His last message had been waiting for an answer for several days, when the new one lit up her screen.

Are you playing hard to get, dear?

She smiled. If only she could afford to play with men that way. She giggled at the very thought of being a femme fatale, making gentlemen run behind her, only choosing to grant them some of her precious time, when she really felt like it.

”Silly” she thought to herself, turning her cell phone over and over again in her hands, wondering what and when she would give a suite to their loose dialog. She got up and walked to the coffee table to charge her phone up. When her baterie was full again, she’d find something witty to send him, or she’d fall asleep trying.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

She went to the kitchen to fix herself a cup of coffee, after considering a glass of red wine. But she had a feeling they might chat for a while, tonight, and she got too enclined to swoon over his stories when she was tipsy. And she didn’t want to give the wrong impression.

They weren’t lovers, nor anything of the kind. She didn’t even recall a time, when they would have flirted openly. But there seemed to be something between them, that she just could put her finger on. It wasn’t quite friendship, for friendship required to know your friends.

She didn’t know him. Nor did he know her. They didn’t know where the other lived, what they did for a living, they had never met, and never exchanged a spoken word… Oh sometimes, she wondered what his voice sounded like, but she liked the mystery.

Come to think of it, that’s exactly what they shared.

Mystery…

And mystery was a thousand times better than anything else she had known.

She took a couple of sips, and tilted her head back. She wondered how he imagined her. If he tried to imagine her, or if she was playing this game by herself. Asking him would mean breaking the magic, and she would never dare to.

As long as they played by their unwritten rules, their story could go on, and she could enjoy the stomach butterfly flutters as he told his tales. She didn’t mind if they were genuine, or made up, just for her.

Her cell phone vibrated on the coffee table. She put down her mug and reached for the phone.

Should I arrange to go check on you in person?

She smiled. She knew he couldn’t but she liked the idea.

That won’t be necessary, I’m here… But thanks for asking!

She snuggled up in her favorite blanket, and waited for his next message.

And the next, and the next…