Silence never tasted so good.

The almost silence, lingering in the shadows of the room. The dimmed light of the city, filtered through the tall laced curtains. Our silhouettes, snuggling on the couch, away from the outside fury of life.

“What from here?” Normal people would say. I just enjoy the beating of your heart in the palm of my hand. We don’t talk, don’t need to. From time to time our gazes meet, challenging the other to break the quietness of the room, then we look the other way, keeping the status quo going.

I can read the questions in Braille on the goosebumped nap of your neck… “What if…? Should we…? Could we live with the consequences? Will we survive not finding out?” I know my interpretation is biaised, longing myself for the answers…

Tilting my head a bit, risking a slight brush of my lips on your neck. You bow your face down, closer to mine, and I feel your breath on my forehead. This is numbing… Knowing that only reason is keeping us from… Keeping us from…

We dance a motionless tango, pushed and pulled yet not moving an eyelid. I wonder if you too wish time would stop now, leaving us dancing like this forever, cheek to cheek, thought to thought.

I don’t care about being right or wrong anymore… Just hold me close to you tonight, so I can remember what it feels like to be happy, tomorrow…

#NovemberNotes2017 – If I Be Wrong * Wolf Larsen

In response to November Notes Writing Challenge by  Sarah Doughty of Heartstring Eulogies, Rosema from A Reading Writer and Máh from Writing is my Pensieve.❤