The touch. Part I

At the party our pinkies touched. That's how it all started. The innocent little accident where our two little digits came in contact sent an electric shock through my system. My hand was on the railing and we were having a conversation about the weather or something trivial that I can't remember now. The moment your hand came down next to mine on the wood rail is etched in my memory as surely as taking a chisel to stone. I instantly felt the warmth of your touch even though it was only perhaps a millimeter of our mutual skin that came together. We both pretended like we didn't notice the contact. Our hands stayed stationary for the duration of the conversation. Only when the revelry moved inside did we finally break our little contact.

I mingled with other friends and tried, in vein, to play it cool. The spark that had been lit wouldn't go away. I found myself looking at you without trying to be obvious about it. It was like a kid at his first school dance. The longer the party went on, the more I felt myself stealing glances your way. I began to believe that the connection I felt was all imaginary until, during one of my stolen moments, I saw you looking right at me. Your eyes were penetrating and vibrant. I felt my cheeks turn red in a millisecond and instantly looked away as if it never happened. So much for playing it cool. I made every effort to ignore you. The harder I tried, the more you filled my head. I laughed and joked with my friends but everything seemed stale, contrived, and forced...because it was. I couldn't stand it any longer. I had to find you and make up some reason to talk to you again. My head panned the room as I pretended to listen to my friends drunken banter. A small twinge of panic crept into my veins when I didn't see you. I excused myself from my current conversation under the pretence of having to go to the bathroom. I walked only a few steps when I saw you coming toward me. Your eyes drilled into my soul and I felt naked. It was as if you had some magic power to burrow into my deepest thoughts. Somehow I gained a semblance of control and smiled. The left corner of your mouth turned up into a devious smirk that made me feel as if you actually could read my thoughts.

I wanted you.