At last they had met. Their only memories of each other were words that now hung in the air around them. The images that had been nurtured for months were held up against their heavy and unfamiliar bodies. It was overwhelming.
He would have traded the silence for the screeching of a whistle. Anything. To start speaking, too much had passed between them. Too significant were the consequences. Too deeply was he in love with her. He feared– a blush, a stutter, a giving away of himself completely. Please don’t let me speak. Please take my head into your hands and please don’t let me speak.
She felt the silence, she wasn’t disturbed. Too many times she had wished for not a single thing more than to be still, to be still with him. She knew what to do. She stalled for a moment, to savor what could never be recaptured. Her eyes kissed his troubled face. Then she lay her arms on the table.
He pressed the soft undersides of his hands against hers, smiling. “There is so much I want to tell you.”