So close. You are so close.
It is dark, but there is enough light for me to see your face. So close. You are so close.
We are quiet except for the sound of our breathing. You are looking down. I reach a hand to your face, to your skin. I linger at the angle of your jaw, tracing it slowly. I run my hand along your jawline and stop at your chin. I press my thumb on the slight depression there, feeling wonder. I’ve always wanted to touch your jawline. I feel your stubble, the shock of ginger. I trace the unshaven hair, thinking how beautiful its color is and how it suits you perfectly.
You smile without meeting my eyes. I smile back.
I dreamt of Ed Sheeran. This is what happened.