Friday night, one week ago.
We were sitting in the dark, people were talking around us, but every tiny word seemed to be pronounced miles away from us. Both focused on the movie, both focused on each other's move. I moved my arm, and my head followed, it slowly touched his shoulder. He smiled. I smiled. The movie was fabulous. Romantic and sweet. Just as sweet as his hand when he touched mine, when he took my fingers in his, when he touched my arm as if it was a precious stone.
The movie ended. But our hands were yet still joined.
We stepped out, walked in the dark streets, the rain ready to fall on us. And when we arrived in front of my door, we looked in each other's eyes, in each other's souls. This time, not only our hands were joined, but our lips too.
