You are not a gadget, he said to me as his hand hovered over mine.
I feel like one. Sometimes.
The café was noisy, as usual. But his eyes on my face were intent, which was not usual. He didn't look away.
We'd seen a lot of each other lately, but I'd not thought anything of it. All the other men I'd drunk coffee with had drifted away, so why should this one be any different. Except, his hand lowered on to mine and stayed there.
Were we in a romantic movie? I felt any moment that someone would yell cut and we'd sit back and then start again. Over and over until it was right.
But there was no yelling, it wasn't a movie, it was the noisy café, and he was grasping my other hand too.
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