It had been 15 minutes since the movie started, when his hand met mine. His smooth fingers tracing the outline of my hand, lingering at my finger tips. He traced circles and squares and hearts on to my palm. We played this silent game until his fingers found the courage to interlock with mine. I looked up at him, his eyes were on the TV, but I could see a smile in the corner of his lips. Then, he slowly curved his free arm around my waist, securing me into his warmth. I shifted a little, finding the perfect niche between his arms and his chest. No one seemed to notice our change of position.
He let my hand go, and gently swept my hair off my shoulders, placing them behind my ears. He whispered, Are you comfortable? I smiled. He nodded, as he leaned his head closer. I could feel his inhales and exhales on my cheek.
He continued to whisper in my ear. I bit my lip, as his continued to get closer and closer. They moved from my ear, to my jaw, and then stopped. Neither of us were watching the movie anymore. He placed his hand on my face; his thumb stroked my cheek lightly. I looked up at him, as he inched closer. He smiled and slowly tilted my chin upwards.
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