Distance

"What do you think love feels like?" Music was playing softly in the background, a gentle aroma of a candle engulfed the air. A comfort being in each other's company and each other's space.

"What do you think it feels like?", she teased. He looked at her, a delicately loose shirt that faintly revealed within, partly concealed until held close. She leaned further in, her scent enticing, voice seducing- "maybe it's just a hint, a suggestion", she said, an excuse to touch.

"You know, you're quite the flirt."

"...You think so?", she replied.

It was just the right amount of innocence, playful, and ethereal. Yet a gesture to approach, and a secret desire to misbehave. She is like a drug, he thought. He didn't need her in any way, but the more he saw her, the more he wanted her. Wanting you was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I had no control over it, trying not to want you, was like trying not to sleep. The longer I try, the harder it gets. Is that what love is? He didn't want to swim that deep, but he needed to learn. He needed to become a better swimmer. Figuring out how to swim to the surface, no matter how deep it went.

So when she was upset, and didn't respond, it hurt. But he knew he had to wait, he had to give her her space, only hoping that after enough time has passed, he may be able to rekindle something in her. She was the hardest addiction he ever had to live with, and he only saw it as they separated. It was only the first day. This is going to be hard, he thought.