Was it a missed opportunity? Will her eyes, those wonderfully deep and innocent eyes that refused to look away, will those eyes ever re-appear?
Just a few seconds that lasted for hours but the intensity of her stare, the way she blinked without looking away, the way her lips itched at making a smile but held back in case it inferred more than she was prepared to say; all of it conspired to make her simple beauty stand out from all those around.
Maybe she was just distracted, staring into a blurred space ahead unaware of the disturbance her crystal rays were creating. Her gaze less focused than her mind, matters of great import troubling the grey matter enough to blind her to the world. It would explain the length of time she maintained eye contact but no, this couldn’t be true; she blinked.
Not in a way to clear her eyes, not as a nervous reaction or to break away from unwanted attention; no she blinked quickly and deliberately because she needed to. She held on as long as she could knowing it was coming, enjoying the moment so much she didn’t want it to end.
Knowing it might cut short her thrill she did it efficiently, smoothly and then re-focused almost too quickly. For the tiniest instant she looked scared as though the object of her desire might have been stolen, as quickly as it came, this wave of concern was washed away with the knowledge that what she had found remained as attentive as ever.
Just as she felt her neck started to tingle with the beginning of a delicious wave of excitement, a buzz that would interfere with the rest of her day, just as the muscles in chest spasmed, pumping a warm delicious high to her finger tips, through the very centre of her emotions right down to her toes; both members of this secret communication began to realize that it would be external factors that would force it to end.
As an imaginary second hand prepared to burst into life to tell all they had aged another second, so too the etiquette clock prepared to chime. The alarm would warn of an impending transformation; beautiful dreamy gaze would soon become an uncomfortable stare.
Tearing his eyes from hers was a hard, akin to leaving the last chocolate for a stranger whom he would never see enjoy it, but he knew the day would be so much better for the privilege and despite her willingness to continue, ultimately it was the right thing to do to make her happy.