9:04 A.M. His hand lightly caresses her back, feeling the material of her shirt and her flowing hair move like water around his hand. The feeling is a strange mixture of rough and smooth, bringing a smile to his face as he wonders what sensations are passing through her body. She doesn't move as to not alert anyone else to what she is enjoying, but he can see her coy smile every time she looks over her shoulder at him, her bangs falling shyly over one eye and her smile brightening the room more than the sun slanting through the shades.
9:57 A.M. He feels her warm body pressed against his, her arms softly sliding around him and his around her, pressing her close, with the scent of her hair filling his nostrils. She glances at him with a smile in each of her beautiful eyes, as she pulls away slightly. He says he will see her later at the cafe, but as he turns to walk away, his hand lingers on her arm, sliding down from shoulder to bicep, down her soft forearm and feels her soft fingers slide across his palm. His smile is the last thing she sees as she turns and walks down the hall, that soft smile still lighting up her face.
12:02 P.M. He sees her at a table in the cafe and smiles, knowing that his day wouldn't have been nearly as well if she wasn't there. He stands at the counter and orders his drink, double hazelnut eye-opener, and a tall hot chocolate for her. His bubbly attitude is infectious, as the barista smiles and makes small talk as she brews the drinks. He knows she does this with everyone, but usually not with a smile. He thanks the barista for the drinks and carefully carries them to her table. Charming enough to put a certain Prince to shame, he asks if anyone is sitting here, and by her smile he knows he chose the right thing to say. He gives her the steaming cup and talks with her. The conversation is lit with smiles and laughing, all the while her hands are clasped in his.
12:30 P.M. He walks hand in hand with her outside, the chill breeze running the narrow line that is between their bodies. Her hand warms his, and her smile warms everything else. He wonders what it would be like if he suddenly stopped, glanced in those eyes, and kissed her softly.
12:39 P.M. They sit on a bench outside the building, his arm around her, lightly caressing her side. Their conversation never stopped the entire time they walked. The only pause was moments of laughter. Her hand rests lightly on his leg as his hand slides across her back and through her long hair, the silk smooth feeling of it rushing through his fingers. The glances each one steals at the other hightens the thought he had earlier. He knows it would be a simple act, a quick turn of her head, with his hand lightly cupping her chin, and a soft pressure upon upturned lips.
2:56 P.M. His moment passed with no move made. He consoles himself with the fact that no move is the safe move, but a part of his mind slaps him, metaphorically, and yells that safe isn't fun. He is cognisant enough to realize that the voice is right. His arms slide around her waist, chin resting in her hair, as her hands glide around his with grace that cant be taught. She breaks away and heads through the door, her eyes glance back ever so briefly as he walks away.
3:10 P.M. He drives down the thruway, music and menthol filling every pour of his body. She is still in his mind, but the effects are beginning to dampen. He smiles a bit wryly knowing that that wont last and everything that she is will only come pouring back in, overflowing him with her smile. The thought of that is something he looks forward to as the road flows under his car on the way home.
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