54
Watching interaction between children who have never even met before can be eye opening. These two have none of the social hang-ups we develop as we grow. They're comfortable to touch and to talk. Well, in Jimmy's case at least; Sasha's not saying too much yet. They play with an ease we lose. Happy to explore together and content to sit side-by-side, doing their own thing.
Despite Izzy's frequent statements that she must be in the way and should leave, I manage to keep her here long enough for Sasha and Rose to need a nap and Jimmy to be engrossed in the sandbox in the backyard. Happy we can still see Jimmy play, we move into the kitchen together to grab a drink.
Being around Izzy all day has gradually lit enough nerve endings in my body to make my stomach turn gentle, lolloping flips and my fingertips tingle. As I catch her looking at me again, I've no idea if I'm just more aware of her, or if the frequency of her glances in my direction has really increased. Either way, there's no denying I'm beginning to burn for her.
"It's been nice having you both around today," I tell her. We're standing side-by-side at the sink, watching through the window as Jimmy fills and pours with the sand.
"We've enjoyed it too. Sasha's just adorable, I could take her home with me." She smiles, her face alight; happy and relaxed. It takes me back to the carefree days of our younger teens, and if I had my way, she'd look like this all the time.
The house is quiet, the steady tick of the wall clock and birdsong drifting in from outside, the only sounds.
Impulsively, and because I feel like my body may just spark and explode if I don't act, I turn and take a step away from the window, wrapping my fingers around Izzy's hand and pulling her with me, until I hit the counter on the other side. She's smiling as she tilts her head curiously at me, and I'm pretty sure the smile I can't conceal in return, has devilment written all over it.
"I'm trying so hard to keep a respectable distance, but I think I just reached the limit of my abilities," I say, catching hold of her waist with both hands. She laughs lightly as she looks down, her fingers hovering unsurely, close enough to my chest that I can feel the warmth of her hands through the fabric of my t-shirt.
I still, watching her as she clearly fights some kind of internal conflict. Finally she places her hands on me and raises her head. The smile has gone, and all traces of relaxation have been replaced with something that resembles determination. A surge so powerful I feel I want to absorb her into me, pushes through my body and my breath quickens as she shifts forward.
"Tell, me something," she says, her face mere inches away and her eyes burning into mine.
"I'm past telling," I say, moving closer still. "Let me show you."
~S~