Holding a stranger’s hand wasn’t so bad as long as I didn’t walk through the city streets alone. Especially if that Stranger was as handsome as the one I had found.
“What do you like about me?” he’d ask.
“Your smile.” I’d answer.
We shared a meal and I could see the women unable to keep their gazes off his eyes. Everywhere we went he stood out. He belonged on the cover of a magazine. Not among these tangible beings . And definitely not with me. But he was the “Lucky One” to be in my presence.
He dropped me off at the front of my building late into the morning as a new day nearly woke. My lips permanently attached to his. My hand tracing an outline on his black slacks. A heavy suit covered his milky white skin and tattoos but I could feel the muscles through it. I went to bed fantasizing about what he’d feel like next to me. Both baring our souls.
“One night. ” I thought.
Just not this night.