• There she stood, waiting. A cold mug pressed lightly to her lips as she sipped, distracted from sleep that late November night. The sky was overcast, not a star or moon to be seen. A chill ran through the air while her light breath fogged the windows. A door closed, and she turned her head to meet his gaze. Her back was to him, but over her shoulder, her eyes beckoned him closer. The others in the room ignored this, their exchange of thoughts, though not a word was spoken.

    There he was, moving silently through the small crowd, it was like any other night for them, but all he wished for was her. Eye's meeting at the close distance, he could hear his name muttered, almost mutely, from her down turned face. He moved as if to kiss her, but lower, at the base of her neck. She tipped her head and drank once more from the cup, soft foam lingering on her upper lip. Blushing, she thought herself graceless. Laughing, he saw her as humble. Her hat was tipped back now, and his tongue was tracing her mouth, catching the lingering flavor of her drink. She too skimmed her lips, and they met half way, closing the distance until their mouths met. It was much too short for their liking, but ever so pure, that did not matter. Like dipping their feet into cool, azure waters of Nirvana, not yet in place for a plunge into heaven's depths, but still satisfying enough for the time being. She could not drown just yet, and he would not let her, not until they were alone. He could wait until then.