|Blogs > julietofverona > poem at the heart of the world|
We spent the drive in a companionable silence. As we pulled into the driveway, I noted with relief that Josh wasn’t back. It was after midnight. Chances were he wouldn’t be home until tomorrow.
Ben slid the gearshift into park and hesitated over the keys.
“Come in,” I urged, making the decision for him.
He followed me to the door, watching silently as I fumbled with the keys. At last the key slid home. I wondered if he noticed my hands trembling. I flicked on the soft light of the lamp on the end table just inside the door.
The connection between us tonight was unnerving. Strangely I felt as though some force had intervened and wired us together and flicked a switch so that this crackling energy flowed from him to me and back again. I could sense his nervousness, his unease as he swept a glance around the apartment finding evidence of Josh in my living space. I felt it too, and yet…I didn’t want him to go.
“I shouldn’t be here,” he murmured, breaking the silence. I turned and gazed up at him. Artificial light from the street light filtered through the half-closed blinds, casting shadows on his face, rendering his expression unreadable.
“I know,” I whispered, ashamed. I dropped my gaze, nervously wiping my damp hands on my jeans. “But I wish you would stay.”
He stepped toward me then, his thoughts suddenly readable in the lamplight. His eyes were bottomless and I felt myself tumble into them.
He reached out with his right hand, spanning the inches between us. His fingers slid through my hair to brush against the back of my neck. He pulled me toward him and paused, a whisper away. I could feel the moist heat of his breath on my bottom lip as his eyes searched mine. Dark and luminous, they asked me a thousand questions and begged my forgiveness all at the same time. Closing my eyes, I tipped my chin in answer, giving in to the urge I’d felt so strongly just hours before. And softly, sweetly, his lips touched mine.
His fingers tightened on the back of my neck as the kiss deepened. Gentleness gave way to desire as my mouth opened beneath his. Our tongues touched lightly, hesitantly, and then we consumed each other.
We jumped apart when the phone rang. His breath was as ragged as mine and though we’d broken the kiss, I couldn’t unlock my eyes from his. His eyes were dark, fathomless, the gaze impossible to break. The phone rang a third time…a fourth…and then the machine picked up.
“Juliet, it’s me…” Josh’s voice rang out, severing the connection. I turned, suddenly lost in my own home, searching for the phone. “Pick up,” he implored through the answering machine. And as my hand closed over the handset, I heard the soft click of the door closing behind Ben as he left.