My skin turns to ice as I slip my fingers between his. One last time before we part, just one more time. As my fingers turn to chills as a reaction to the contact, everything inside my hands and my head turns to mush. Nothing is felt. All my nerves are on fire. My fingers are in the wrong places. Two fingers are between two of his. I don't care and he doesn't seem to notice.



He walks, I follow. I have no idea where we're going, just concentrating on the contact. People are all around us. Then why is he the only one I notice? Step after step, after step, we walk just a tad further. Now we're away from the crowd. Just enough for us to hear them, too far away for them to see us. I breathe, feeling his pulse intertwine and become in tune with mine. His fingers of his other hand grab mine as we turn to face each other.



One kiss before we part. One sweet kiss. I feel the intimacy between us. Neither of us can tell whether this was meant to be a soft, short, and sweet goodbye, or a long passionate kiss. Neither of us care. I feel it all the way through me. I'm trapped in time, hoping this never stops. No idea of how long we've been like this. We eventually part, separating our lips, then our hands, one finger at a time.



I'm one step away, have to look back. I already miss him. Can't wait until we touch again. Can't wait until the feeling. The emotional intensity of it all, the feeling of him and I blending together, the hope that it will never end. The contact.