He pulled her to him with as much longing as he dared—afraid to consume her slight frame in his strength.
She clasped him to her. Keenly aware of the tension in their arms. “Am I holding on too tightly? Am I holding on too long?”
A slim slackening—only to allow for a breath—had them instantly terrified that the other were receding.
She thought, “If I could just stay in this moment the tiniest whisper longer...”
In his racing thoughts, Time did not exist.
Each clung to the other. Clung. And breathed.
Until, at last, she thought, “If I linger, I am lost.”
She exhaled and permitted her muscles to ease with the rhythm of her breath.
They disengaged in slow motion—the reluctance palpable between them.
She raised her eyes to his and held his gaze for a heart beat. She smiled.
He smiled.
She turned and walked away.
