Crinkles

It’s not all about the heat of the moment– there is more to the connection than quick, firery kisses and rough, tight, squeezing hugs that seem to want to push the eyes out of your skull. The real love and the real understanding is when he looked into her eyes, cupped her neck with one hand and held her hand with the other.

James was giving his whole attention and she could feel the affection simply washing over her. It wasn’t the steaming desire and lust that she had sensed with other guys from her past but his emotion towards her was a need, not just perspectived want.

She could see the words forming on his lips, the peace and understanding brimming in his eyes and he just watched her. She watched back, drinking back the soft scent of his cologne and shampoo. Both his hands were warm, the one brushing her neck as well as the other twined around her icy fingers but she did not shiver because of the cold.

He moved his hand from her neck and swept back a stray tendril of hair that was curled over her cheekbone to back behind her ear. This was customary as he always claimed that he loved to see both of her eyes on his at once. His mouth set in a somber line but hers cracked into a familar smile. His heart leapt: it had been so good.

She lent in and kissed him lingering there for a moment after with her eyes closed breathing softly.

It had been a good 55 years. Things wouldn’t ever change.