Inspired by @cazzwebbo and her New Year Writing Challenge.
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He: Larger than life
gentleman GSOH WLTM outgoing and witty lady for visits to country pub. We can
go in my Merc.
Oh Dear! What a collection of clichés! Overweight, balding,
and laughs at his own jokes! Merc! Probably understaffed in the trouser
department! Well so long as he isn’t in leather trousers or a ponytail like the
last one, he’s worth a try.
She: Attractive professional
lady wishes to meet gentleman for fun, food and fine wines. Loves cinema,
country pubs and animals.
Hmm! Between the lines she wants someone solvent. Cinema? Not
like the one who took me all the subtitled rubbish. Who wants to read at the
flicks? And if it’s all rom coms then she probably lives with her mother and
collects cats. Well as long as she isn’t spray tanned orange like the last one,
she’s worth a try.
They meet.
Under the station clock.
Another cliché.
The last one.
A city wine bar, not a country pub. Sauvignon blanc. Chilean.
Good choice.
An hour becomes two, then three.
Wine almost untouched.
His humour entrances. Not contrived, not smutty. Natural, in
the flow of conversation.
She giggles, laughs, smiles at his innocent charm.
He is deeply sensitive. She can tell in his eyes, in the
timbre of his voice. He has been hurt before, he is wary, but he won’t admit
it.
She recognises something she hasn’t seen before. He is able
to care.
Shall we move on?
No. A little longer is fine.
Her hand brushes his. He doesn’t resist.
He drops his head a little. She lowers her eyes then looks
up, through the lashes. Doe eyed.
The moment.
They both realise. Instinctively.
Her heartbeat quickens. She feels the flush in her cheeks.
He keeps the eye contact, lowers his voice, leans in.
‘You’re beautiful!’
She grasps his hand.
‘You are too!’
He reaches with his free hand, strokes her face. Like fine
porcelain.
She does the same. The faint beginnings of stubble, soft and
textured.
She moves first. Surprises him. He tastes the gentle sweetness
of her lips. Two, three seconds. She pulls back. Their eyes lock. They know.
He returns the act. Strong, but gentle. Her lips part
slightly. Their eyes close. Oblivious to the rest of the room. Time freezes.
They know when to stop. She still holds his hand.
They know. They just know. The best is yet to come.
