by Andrea Allison
I brushed a lock of Chestnut hair from Kyle's eyes. We gazed at each other, not missing on second of our living portraits. Darkness blanketed our figures. Only the dim glow of two antique lamps illuminated our sight. My heart skipped a beat as Kyle slid closer to me on the couch.
"I have been waiting for this night all week," I whispered.
"I hope it's everything you hoped for." His baritone voice gave me chills with every word he spoke.
My hand trembled as I reached for my glass of Apple Cider. "That and much more," I said, sipping the beverage.
He took the glass from my hands and replaced it with his. I could hold those velvet hands for the rest of my life.
"Chelsea, there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a long while."
I moved closer to him. "Yes, Kyle." I eagerly awaited his reply. He leaned closer. Our lips only inches apart.
"I've never felt this way about anyone before."
I lingered on every word; every movement; every silent breathe. Kiss me please. Then.
"I think it is time for Kyle to go home," my mom interrupted, raising the volume of brightness of the lamps.
Oh my God. I can't believe she couldn't wait another five minutes.