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•CATCH•
Monday, October 18th, 2010 . . . 9:07 P.M.
The bar was pretty busy for a Monday night—and because of that, once Genevieve pushed past the set of old wooden doors, she glanced over her shoulder at Mark to ensure he followed. He trailed close behind, only a short step or two behind her. The two were closer than usual, however Genevieve didn't mind considering the crowd.
Their gazes locked for a moment and Genevieve's lips twitched up in small grin, mimicking Mark's, and without overthinking, or psyching herself out, she reached for his hand in an effort to keep him close amidst the crowd—but truth be told, that wasn't the only reason.
Honestly, she enjoyed the close proximity—her mind wandered back to earlier in the scrub room. She didn't want to let go, something about the warmth of his hand in hers felt natural, like it was meant to be in more ways than one, as if they were made just for her—an oddity she'd never experienced before with any of her past relationships. The feeling was comforting, reassuring in a way, and her mind raced at the fact.
It didn't take much for her to realize that her well-guarded walls were crumbling, all too quickly—and it was all thanks to a set of perfect hands, a charming smirk and a pair of enchanting ocean eyes . . . she refrained herself from glancing towards his lips—they definitely were a factor as well, however, they deserved their own category.
