- shhh. it's ok, it's ok.

Adrenaline just like flowed over my hair to shoulders, then dropped on the floor. I took this one safe, a bit louder breath. There is finger on one of my eyelashes, the down one and fingers on my right cheek. With strong, sure pressure on my skin, then muscles, then bones. And blood. A lot of blood pumping like crazy in my veins, but in another craziness, not this creepy one, in the shadow of fear, but craziness of... his crazy impact. My vains can't afford it.

The secret of this touch - I feel like I don't need to stand on my own legs, because he's holding my so tighly, pushing me into his safe space, this space, when he can do everything to protect me. But this impact, fingerprints on my face, this is so close, beyond close, and intimate. This is so soft, like a moring haze. Like he is stydying all of my human beings' features. It's an epic pleasure to be held like that.

- it's me.

He's taking away his big hand, while saying that. There is my gaze following his palm, like begging for one more touch.

It's me. It is him, not him, that I shall be thinking of. Not my boyfriend, not him. Him, this one, who saved me again, this one with the touch I was analyzing for days. It's him. I know it's him, I've dreamt it would be him, while sitting with pencils in my hands. I've been daydreaming about it days before it happened... maybe without pencils.. It's him.

Not this one, who shall it be in the master of world moral plan. But Him.

- it's ok. you're safe.

I know I am. Standing like this, I would give all for it, so why wouldn't I be safe, if I have nothing important to lose?

I feel his breath on my nose and under it. Like he is donating his air to me. And pushing it into my nose right on. His breath smells like chocolate, very intense one, maybe Belgian? I wish I could go to Belgium. With...

There is his lips like centimeter away from me. I can feel the air crushing because of its movement or his breathing.

I feel his gaze on me, then he turns his head, then his gaze is back. I can feel it. With his eylash on my temple and space between us dancing on my skin.

I can feel his facial hair on my jaw. It's incdredibly gentle.

I can feel his leg nearby my own leg.

I can feel his foot under my boots. That's the touch I'm not sorry about. More places we're connected.

I can feel the hand in my hair now. The last finger is touching my tendon, it's truely calming, but he's hand seems to be so heavy there. He's holding me thight.

The other finger just went down a bit. That's funny, I felt it through my hair, but it supposed to be caring or what? What are you doing?

Do you want my attention as much as I want yours or is it just a trick?

Rush's over, I can think with my own mind now.

You want me to stay home, okay. But why did you quit touching me with fragile moves, Klaus? What is it about? What this moment was about, duh? Seriously?

This look.

He saved me.

- thank you.

I'm throwing my look to his eyebrows, to see what he's thinking of, because I can't read nothing in his eyes, but determination. To do what, Kl... he's disappearing.

And he's gone, now. I'm drinking with the smile on my face. What was I thinking? I shouldn't have ever...

There is a touch on my hair. No more Belgian taste in air, just Him. Him I should be thinking of, touch of who I should enjoyed. But I don't, not as much.

So, this is my very first thing written absolutely in English. Please, pretty please with sugar on top, let me know, when you see any mistakes. I just like building these messy sentences