Finally reaching a large house on the beach that is surprisingly isolated from nearby buildings, he opens the door with a flourish. I stand in the entryway, a little dazzled by the high ceilings and the stark whiteness of the open space before me. Everything is white: walls, floor, furniture. Even the kitchen cabinets and counters are white.
I glance at him and he is clearly proud of his home, so I give him a big grin even though I find the lack of color somehow overwhelming. The structure of the room is beautiful and bright. I would prefer artwork, some colorful pillows or even some greenery to give it a more homey feel, but as long as he’s comfortable my opinion doesn’t really matter.
He beckons me into the living room at the front of the house. Favoring my left foot which is now throbbing from the cut, I join him on a soft white rug covering the hard tile floor. He opens his arms to me and I rest against him in a hug that also allows me to use his strength to help support my weight. I sigh as I lean into his bare chest.
After several minutes he gently touches my chin with the fingertips on his right hand, tilting my head up. His lips softly touch mine in a chaste kiss that should not have sent desire coursing through me, yet I feel the yearning build all the way down to my toes. My breathing is shallow as he pulls just inches away, his crystal blue eyes locked on mine.
I am unable to turn away from his gaze.
He leans closer. I expect him to kiss me again. I ache for him to kiss me again, deeper this time. But he bends lower, his lips brushing my ear, his breath sending shivers down my spine. In little more than a whisper he asks me if I would like to go upstairs. At first I’m confused. Is he asking what I think he’s asking? Part of me is definitely screaming YES! But I know I’m not ready to be intimate, even though clearly I am attracted to him. Deep down I’m old fashioned. I’m not someone who jumps into bed on the first date. And did this even count as a date?
His faint chuckle tickles my ear and causes my heart to flutter. What is he doing to me? I’m starting to feel faint with longing. Why is he laughing?
This post is in response to the daily writing prompt Flourish and is part of something longer I am working on.