Killin' it

She tucked a loose curl behind his ear.

He closed his eyes and sighed as her fingers grazed his cheek.

She stilled.

It was a soft sigh.

A delicious one.

A sigh that turned her insides into candy floss.

That was it.

He turned her into sugar.

Caramelized sugar at that.

A sweet, burning sensation that took over her entirely.

Is this what it felt like? This crippling vulnerability they advertised in greeting cards?

She always believed that it was like flying.

Then why was she so in awe of him? Why did she feel the need to look up at him when they spoke?

She looked up at him now. He seemed so content, so blissfully unaware of the thoughts racing through her head, so trusting of her.

Cringing, she turned away from him, ignoring his disgruntled reaction.

It was disturbing her.

She was so used to having little more than nothing and here he was poised to become her everything, no questions asked.

He came to stand in front of her, hands outstretched, reaching for hers.

Slowly and with great caution, she allowed her hands to meet with his.

With their fingers intertwined, he sighed again.

Another delicious sigh.

She shivered as she looked up at him this time, not daring to stare him right in the eyes.

But his were closed again, reveling in the simple joy of being with her.

And suddenly,

she remembered that flying was simply falling with a sense of direction.

.