I was invited (well, not personally, but still…) to join the Fandango’s Friday Flashback!

Fandango scrolls back, every Friday, and gives a second chance to a post he had published on the same date, years before. I thought it was a great way to remember some of the stuff I did a while back, and I decided to participate…

So here it is!

Written on December 23rd of 2016, here is a romantic piece of fiction that I wrote in my early days as a blogger. I must say, revisiting it put a smile on my face… A nice start for my (short) Holiday vacation.

I hope you’ll enjoy it (again), and I wish you’re safe and well, wherever you are…

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“Meet me for the 9 O’clock presentation.”

She knew he would know which movie to choose, as she sat in the room. She was a little early, and she wondered if he would come. He hadn’t confirmed, nor had he refused the invitation.

He liked keeping his options open. He probably wanted to join her, otherwise he would have declined politely, but not replying gave him the chance to back up at the last minute, for whatever reason he might suddenly have.

When the lights dimmed out, he was nowhere around, and she felt disappointed. She didn’t ask for much, just wanting to sit in the same room for a while, and breathe the same air.

Oh, she could have invited him to her appartment. She would have worn her favorite dress, and welcomed him bare footed, with a glass of good Pinot Noir to set a relax mood… She would have chosen suited music, and dimmed the lights, to create the right ambiance.

They would have exchanged smalltalk, cheering to new year to come, looking at the city from her rooftop flat’s living room. He would have taken her glass, putting both on the low table, and he would have turned to her with that look she already knew…

His eyes spoke more than he did. And she knew he longed as much as she did, for a night of careless passion. Spending time with him made them both ache for each other… And she loved it.

Being there in her home, away from the world, they could have pretended there would be no tomorrow. She would have loved his lips on her neck, the tightness of his embrace, at last… Of course she would have shivered while his fingertips would  have run on her skin, as she unbuttoned his fancy shirt to rub her palms on his chest…

There would have been passion, and there would have been tenderness, but then what? What if, waking up in his arms, there were just two strangers under her black linens? What if, night after night, the passion gave place to routine, and he got used to her, and lost that look when their eyes met?

She was thinking about that, and vaguely watching the previews, when a shadow caught her eye. Someone was taking place, just behind her, in the dark. A large warm hand covering her shoulder confirmed what she already knew…

“Good evening, dear…”

He lightly kissed her cheek, and sat back. And she could feel his burning gaze on the back of her neck.

A chill ran down her spine, and she smiled, knowing she had about two hours to dream about what could have been, if she had invited him over, instead of at the movies…

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