We finally met. You opened the door. The shoulder i used to crawl into looked fragile, maybe that’s because you haven’t got enough sleep. I asked what time did you go to sleep last night — you said you didn’t know. “Maybe it was somewhere around dawn”, you said. Typical, dear. Typical.
It was almost the time to say goodbye.
“I have meeting at 8.30. My car isn’t properly parked. I need to go.”
In fact, I didn’t want to go. I want to cancel all meetings. Skip work. Be the worst editor of the day. Whatever.
Then, without knowing who started the first move — we hugged. I said I miss you. You hugged me, your cheeks came closer. I couldn’t help but drew my lips to you. I kissed your cheek. We were facing each other, we kissed. For a while. A reunion.
You tasted me, partly. I froze. You have no idea how much i miss you. I want you.
“Don’t you want to taste mine?”, you asked.
I said I didn’t have time. My meeting is waiting, I can’t miss it. I said maybe next time. You said it was okay. You walked me to the car. I swept my lipstick stain from your right cheek. I left.
And now, I’m sitting in my office chair. The meeting hasn’t start. Your touch linger, resonate all around my spine. I want to sit down with you, I want to drive around. We can go somewhere to have lunch, or dinner — talk, laugh, singing the song from the radio. And maybe we can cuddle afterwards. Or not.