Fiction: Hot and cold

20 May 2014 /

Lost in conversation, Jane continues walking down the sidewalk even after I’ve stopped and half shout out that we’ve arrived at the door. She smiles and coquettishly laughs off her lack of attention with a simple “oh” and turns around. I smile back, half lost in her presence opening the door as she approaches; we almost catch each other in this movement, me opening the door as she awkwardly tries to get in. And in that instant we brush against each other, giggling nervously as I try to let her know I opened the door for her. Our eyes lock, so close together I almost loose it, and am stabbed by a desire for her, a desire to take her into my arms and kiss her, hug her, loose myself with her… and then we walk up the stairs, to the office. And eat lunch.