Title: Misstep
Author: snowyplains
Rating: K+
Note: It's been a while since I've written anything, so I'm easing myself back into writemode with this one. (If I love George is reading this: many sorries for it not being N/S)
Once, he almost kissed her.
He was on his way out of the locker room when she stopped him, reaching for his arm. The momentum from his lurch forward caused her hand to slide from its original position from his upper arm down to his hand. The sensation was novel enough to make him stop in his tracks and turn to face her.
"Um...coffee?" she asked.
He looked at their linked hands (neither had let go), his gaze traveling up her arm and he suddenly became hyper-observant. Her hair was slightly tangled, she smelled faintly of vanilla and her breathing had become a bit erratic. He also noticed how she was standing almost with her back to the lockers, so if he took a half step forward, she'd have to back up against them...
He may have leaned in, he wasn't sure. But either way, he caught himself before he could and he backed away. He coughed to hide the awkward pause. "Sounds good."
She nodded, letting go of his hand (he wondered if it was just his imagination that she had let her hand linger for a second longer than what was necessary) and returned to her locker to get her jacket and scarf. He avoided her gaze until they were well out of the locker room.
He thought about that night periodically.
How she had chosen the corner booth, and instead of sitting across from him, had opted to squeeze in next to him.
How her proximity had made him regret that he had not just kissed her several minutes before.
How he became convinced she was torturing him that night, pressing up against him, occasionally brushing her leg against his, leaning in to whisper amused commentary on the other patrons in his ear.
And especially how, sitting that close to her, he could have made up for his earlier indecision by just laying one on her...and how he didn't.
Neither of them brought up what happened (or didn't) that night again.
She had not initiated any physical contact since then. Nor did she request a coffee date until two weeks later, and then, only in the car, when it was unlikely she'd have to stop his escape. Otherwise, she carried on as if nothing had happened, kidding around with him but never touching.
It drove him crazy.
