We parted our mouths, lips slightly parted and noses as close together as our bodies. His warm breath sent an electrifying current across my flushed skin, eager for his touch.
- Do you really have to go? I asked, restless fingers twisting her scarf. The scarf she had made for him last Christmas.
I felt the palm of her hand pass superficially from the crown of my head, to wrap one of her delicate fingers around a lock of hair and place it behind my ear; His fingertips slid up my cheek, turning the skin beneath them pink.
-I must do it... - he replied, without getting angry, his eyes looking straight into mine -, if I want to see you next year.
He gently held my face, and approached me to plant another delicate kiss, which I reciprocated and extended. It was still awkward with contact, but it didn't bother me; it was that kind of permanent charm that made me melt into his arms like hot chocolate.
- Is it okay that you continue to be with me? - I finally said, hesitantly, breaking the hug in which we had wrapped ourselves as soon as we saw each other.
-There will be no problem, as long as the agent knows where I am.
And, as was the custom, without letting her hand leave my elbow, she extracted a medium-quality phone from her bag, and checked the voice mail with avid green eyes. I hid my lips and looked away; guilt gnawed at me.
When Zachary told me that he had returned to the city after 8 months of absence, the fever of the emotion of seeing him again had risen so much that when we finally saw each other face to face, I threw myself into his arms with no other desire than to kiss him and remember the warmth that emanated.
But the happy moment had already passed. Standing face to face, wrapped in our winter clothes, under the waning light of the park lantern where in the spring we confessed our feelings for each other, I had to put the same feelings to the test. Now.
-What's happening? He noticed the wrinkle on my forehead. He didn't like it when the wrinkle formed on my forehead.
Take a breath.
