... Her eyes charted a triangle on his face. His gaze was the ship following the charts. Lost in the Bermudas? She froze her stare at his mouth. Very slowly, inexorably, and absentmindedly, he was sinking, leaning in… like falling into a maelstrom of trance. Time expanded from a puddle to an ocean. The Earth stopped turning. Her eyes were closing, a hundred times slower than the setting sun. Ever so slightly, almost undetectably, her face moved to meet him, for the smallest distance possible. Like half a step, inviting completion. He stopped right before touch… where proximity was impossibly close, blurring the line. The air between their lips felt like contact; a magnet… giving haptic feedback of tingling sensation. Her eyelids lifted again, as if pulled up by the anchors of eyelashes, tethered to his irises. She was stuck in a moment of anticipation. Her lips twitched open, holding her breath. Her eyes focused, wondering, asking thousands of questions per second… saying nothing… waiting to find out what happens after “to be continued…”. She hated cliffhangers. The cruelty of waiting for the sequel.
He interrupted that confusion; spoke in low voice:
“Stop. Imagine... there’s an invisible wall, incredibly thin, but also unbreachable. Will you be window shopping Me? This is better than the actual thing. Because all you want is right on that threshold. And you can choose. Right now. You can choose to extend that moment. Hold it for awhile. Keep it longer. Before it manifests and senses consume it. Stay with me on the other side of the window. Be the want, the desire before satisfaction dulls hunger. Be the thirst before the glass is full. Feel the water pour. Hear it spill. Anticipate the cold moisture with the edges of your tongue and the inside of your cheeks. Swallow the sip of saliva that your senses milked from your thoughts. Now… bottoms up”
