Darkness slowly encroaching.
A small island of light, illuminating her hands.
An office chair moving back and forth as she talks, animating her conversation with gestures.

Half smiles, one mocking, the next conspiratorial.
Eyes that flash between shyness and flirtation.
Her neck, smooth and perfect.
He rises, and walks to the back of the chair, standing behind her.
Joking but not joking about watching her, about wanting her.
About touching her.

Freeze that moment.
No, not freeze. the word is too cold in this too long winter.
Hold still, and listen to the expectation in the silence.
Sense the breathing, chests gently rising and falling.
Watch skin flush slightly red as they pause.

Feel their knowledge...

Will she turn?
Will she ever turn?