It was misting, and my glasses kept fogging over every time we pressed up against each other. I remember that your breath felt warm, and your lips were too exciting to resist.
We stood there in the dark under a flickering halogen streetlamp, your arms around my shoulders and my hands in your pockets. For a thousand dollars I couldn’t tell you what we were saying, but I don’t think that it was important.
But your face, your face I could describe in an instant. The shadows may have blurred you, but your eyes were bright, but small because of the smile on your lips. Your rounded cheeks looked soft and warm, and so I nuzzled my face against yours.
When you opened the back door of your car, I slid inside before you could say anything, but you quickly followed. You pressed up against me, the corduroy fabric all at once soft and stiff. We lay there together for a few brief moments that stretched into hours.
You laughed every time I made some sappy comment, and I wish we could have stayed like that for the entire night.
You, pressed against me. My arms around you. Another moment to savor.
