Date number eight and she was getting a little bit frustrated. Frustrated, uncertain and hyperaware of the way she looked and acted. He had asked her out for the very first time exactly one month ago and she had a wonderful time. He as well, she was absolutely certain of that. They immediately hit it off and there was definitely some great chemistry between the two of them. Their talks continued until the wee hours of the night. There wasn't a topic that they couldn't discuss passionately. And she loved talking. No doubt about that. Talking to him felt like coming home and finding a confidant she had been looking for since her parents died. However, she wanted this to lead somewhere. She didn't want to talk passionately. She wanted real passion in her life. Touches that were shared were coincidental, yet electrifying. Their first touch was when their knees brushed underneath the table while playing a game of scrabble. His hand had found hers in the popcorn box while watching a meaningless movie on his couch. While waiting for their table at a newly opened restaurant, someone bumped into Elizabeth and pushed her into Henry's arms. It had all led to nothing but blushed cheeks from both of them. Damnit.
Seven dates later, and nothing had changed all of that. Enjoying his company while walking alongside him in the park on this bitter cold day in December, it seemed like she didn't know how to act around him. He felt it. Something was off. She wasn't her usual self; all quiet and introverted. Deeply hidden in her own thoughts. He decided to finally go for it, to be as supportive as possible in case she needed the comfort and he slowly put his left arm around her shoulder. Surprised by his actions, she looked at his gloved hand that was casually resting on her shoulder. She grabbed his wrist with her right hand and removed his arm while turning towards him. Taken aback and suddenly feeling anything but confident about himself, he looked at her and whispered: 'What's wrong?'
Still holding his hand in hers, she raised her head to free her mouth from the woolen scarf that was tightly bundled around her neck and head. Her lips adjusting to the cold were barely able to pronounce the words: 'Why haven't you kissed me yet?'
He looked into her eyes, saw the disappointment and uncertainty and lowered his head in shame. Not knowing what to do, still not being able to look at her, he admitted: 'I have wanted to kiss you from the moment I first laid my eyes on you. But if I did that, I wouldn't be able to stop myself. I want to kiss you and smother you with kisses all the time. You and your gorgeousness are all I can think about. But I don't want what we have to be something purely physical. Believe me, I want to get physical. I do. But first, I wanted to get to know you. As a person. And to be honest, you're the best person I've ever met.' He looked away to his right, hiding his feelings and face from her. She stepped to the left, invading the space he was staring at and smiled at him. She put her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear; 'I think you know me. I've come to know you. I think it's time for that first kiss'. Her lips briefly touched his earlobe and he knew she was right. Bringing her face in front of his, it was finally going to happen and she couldn't be more excited.
He put a long kiss to her forehead before he lowered his eyes to her beautiful blue irises. His lip trembled; it was cold for sure but he had never been this nervous before. Before he could act, she threw her hands around his back, stood on tiptoe and pecked his lips. They both laughed at her bold determination. His smile soon fading from his lips, he went for it. His eyes sought her mouth, lowering down he brushed his lips against hers. She was still smiling like a goofball, totally infatuated by this young man in front of her and what was about to enfold. His tongue licked her upper lip and a shiver was sent down her spine. Her smile faded, he grabbed her waist, pulled her closer to him and opened his mouth slowly, silently bidding her to do the same. Their tongues found one another and played together like best friends do. Like lovers do. She biting his lower lip while his tongue slid along the backside of her upper lip, they knew their first passionate, sexual connection was reaching its ending. She smiled again. Resting his forehead against hers, he took her in his arms and held her close. Knowing in his head and his heart it was the right time, the perfect time for them, he cursed himself for not doing this sooner. He couldn't wait to explore her lips again. And again. And again. And …