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“I do, too,” I confess, my words barely a whisper.
It’s then that he leans in, his movement tentative but filled with purpose.
When his lips meet mine, it’s a soft collision, gentle and questioning at first, as if he’s still asking for my permission.
But as I respond, the kiss deepens and grows more confident. It’s a kiss that speaks of burgeoning feelings, of the blurred lines between make-believe and reality, whispering promises we haven’t yet dared to voice aloud.
When we finally pull apart, we are both breathless.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” Damien promises, his voice steady, but his eyes reveal something else.
“Yeah, see you in the morning,” I echo, my voice steady but my heart racing with anticipation and something else—something warm and terrifyingly wonderful beginning to bloom.
We bid each other good night, and as he walked away, I pressed my back against the wooden door, relishing the cool touch that ground me.
I bring my fingertips to my lips, still tingling from the soft brush of his kiss, and I smile.
The air becomes charged at this moment, resulting in a tangible shift in the atmosphere.
What started as a mere facade transforms into something genuine, something I can almost taste and touch.
As I turn the key and step into the quietness of my living room, I carry with me the promise of tomorrow, the memory of his kiss, and the thrilling uncertainty of what lies ahead.
The story we wrote together takes a new turn tonight, and I find myself eager to see where it leads.
The joy on his parent’s faces haunts me.
The flickering city lights outside my window fuel my wandering thoughts as I go through my nightly routine.
The bustling streets of Los Angeles remind me that my time here may not be everlasting. Thoughts of returning to San Antonio linger in my mind, threatening to disrupt our yet-to-be-established relationship.
How do we bridge the gap between us and find solace in the distance?
What becomes of our friendship when distance forces us apart?
Also, I can already picture the scene vividly in my mind: the sight of disappointment etched on his parent’s faces as they discover the web of lies we’ve spun, the sound of their voices trembling with a mix of betrayal and disappointment.
The air in the room would be thick with tension, carrying the scent of unease and regret.
We would struggle to find words, desperately seeking an excuse to protect ourselves from the truth we had been too scared to disclose.
The weight of the situation would settle heavily upon us, making the once comfortable space between us now suffocatingly awkward - a consequence I had never fully expected.
The effect of the engagement rumor was still hanging over our heads, and with these feelings, we confessed to each other.
Things would not get any better.
Taking measures to limit interaction with him at work and home as much as possible would have to be the best choice.
That way, we can prevent finding ourselves in situations where we experience discomfort, and others might become aware.
Commuting together to work each day would no longer be a favorable idea.
I would wake up much earlier to prepare and leave before him. If I get to the office first, I’ll ensure all the documents are ready for him.
No more ‘date nights,’ if I can call them that!
Was it possible that the proximity we recently shared intensified these feelings? What would happen when I move back to San Antonio?
