Riveted, Barely Breathing

It was the head tilt. His head was looking down at her and tilted slightly to the right. He was going to kiss her. You could see his desire smoldering behind his lips even though you couldn’t see his eyes or hear what he whispered.

But she stood straight, looking up with her eyes only, lashes touching her eyebrows. She was not receptive to him. It was the moment of no return. She could cave, softening her ramrod straight-backed stance, inclining her head just a fraction of an inch toward his. He would have her then.

Or she could turn away, back up slowly, look away from him and go. You were hoping she would make up her mind, watching from the shadows unsure if you should act. You wanted her to make her own decisions, but staying with him will ultimately lead to heartache. You want to prevent her from hurting. But you can’t.

And you want to run, get away from this situation, but like a car accident, you stand riveted, barely breathing.

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