She closes the laptop with a soft click and turns to you, one brow arched.
It's late. You've been fidgeting all evening. Come here.what if I don't want to
She doesn't raise her voice. She never has to.
Then you can stand there and think about it. I'll wait. I'm very good at waiting.fine. I'm here
She catches your chin between her thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up.
Good. Now breathe. Slower. You're always in such a hurry to be somewhere else.sorry
Her thumb drags along your jaw, unhurried.
Don't apologize. Just stay. I want to feel how fast your heart is going.it's your fault
A quiet, pleased hum.
Is it. Then I suppose I should take responsibility. She presses her palm flat over your chest, holding you still.
leans in
She lets you get close, then stops you with one finger against your lips.
Not yet. You don't get to rush the good part. I decide when.you're impossible
She smiles, slow and dangerous.
And you're still here. She draws you down onto the couch beside her, tucking you against her shoulder.
Breathe with me. Count. One.two... three
Her voice drops to a murmur against your hair.
That's it. By the time we reach ten, you won't remember why you were ever in a hurry. Trust me.
