Delayed, Nathan Kingsly [read aloud txt] 📗

no longer exists. The tenderness of the moment has me turning away.

My eyes catch a woman looking up into the clear sky, watching a flight take off. She’s somewhere in her forties. She’s clutching the front of her magenta shirt above her breasts. I’d think she’s in trouble, but her reflection shows peace. Her posture relaxed, a small smile curving her lips.

I don’t want to look away, but someone walks in front of me, cutting off my view. She’s younger, yoga pants, shirt hanging off one smooth shoulder, hair in a messy bun atop her head which changes color as the light from outside touches it from brown to red. My heart beats faster. My hand clenches around my drink. Could it be? Her eyes, surrounded by thick lashes, touching her cheeks in a blink before focusing on her phone again, I need to see the familiar blue. I’m not prepared when she looks up. My breath hitches, stuck in my lungs. Those ocean blue irises sweep over me, and our eyes meet for the briefest second. My chest tightens as if her smaller hands, which I can still feel on my skin, are beneath squeezing my heart.

She passes without losing a step. Now the air seizes for a different reason. Does she not recognize me? If she keeps going, this may be the last chance I get. My heart beats faster, and before I can think, I’m up on my feet.

“Emma?”

It’s in slow motion that she twists to look around her, and the details of her features change when her eyes meet mine. The busy welcome area of the biggest airport bleeds into the background when her features brighten into a smile. As soon as she takes her first step, I close the distance.

We don’t touch, but there is so little distance between us, I can feel the warmth of her skin and can practically taste it on my tongue.

We speak at the same time, and we laugh, releasing some of the tension coursing in the air between us.

"Go first," I say.

She smiles, and it tugs on my insides. "What are you doing here?"

I gesture backward with my thumb, though they're long gone. "Dropped my sister and her boyfriend off."

"Oh?" She looks around me. "They ..."

"No, they've been gone. I needed a place to think, and I was already here." Shrugging, I soak up her features. Darting from one feature to another, memorizing them as if new.

She shifts on her feet and looks down at them, and it's only then that I see the suitcase leash gripped in her hand.

"Shit, am I keeping you?" Please say no. I'd give anything if you were to stay right here.

She looks up and shakes her head no, but then as it slows, she nods. "Yes, I'm on my way to host a party. That's the job, after all. I should go …” She seems to be searching for something in my features, but I don’t know for what.

“Alright.” I breathe out, and my gut tightens. I’ve wanted this for months, and now that it’s here, she’s leaving again.

She shakes her head from her thoughts then nods. “Alright then, well, it was good to see you.” Her smile is too bright, and when it wobbles on her face, she twists and walks away.

No, we can’t leave it like this! Not again! With her going, and me feeling just as lost. As I’m about to call out, she does a one-eighty degree turn. She leaves her bag to stand alone as she stalks towards me. Her expression is a storm, and hope starts to rise within me, as the sea would in her wake.

“Are you really going to let me walk away?” She’s toe to toe with me, and her eyes are on fire, and I never knew a color like hers could be ablaze. “It’s been months, and I haven’t heard a word. Not. One. I thought you might need time after, you know ...” Her cheeks are hot iron red.

“You left ...” I supplied.

“Yes, but I thought at least I’d get a text, an email, a letter at the very least, but nothing.” She looks straight ahead into my chest and shoves me. When I don’t budge, a sound of distress strangles from her throat, and she does it again with both hands.

Capturing her third attempt, her eyes jerk up to mine. Tears brimming, angry, talking nonsense, and yet she is so beautiful. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I release her hands, and she watches with weariness as I bring one of my own to her face. My thumb traces across her cheek, her skin as soft as I remember it. Her eyes flutter shut, her long lashes dusting against her cheeks before they open to find mine again.

Leaning in, her lips part, her breath warm as it starts to speed up, her pupils dilate as she shifts between my eyes and lips. She smells as she always does, sweet as honey.

My own breath sticks in my throat as I lean in further, but there is enough in my lungs to ask her, “What’s your full name?”

“What?” She jerks. Her brows crash down at the same time her mouth twists. “Right now? You’re asking me that now?”

Looking at her mouth, “Answer me, Emma.” Fuck, I want her. I want to steal the sense from her body and make her weak enough she can no longer stand to escape, but I first need this one thing. My eyes shift back up.

She’s shaking her head, her eyes screwed shut, tears sliding down her cheeks.

“Tell me,” I say in a firm tone, which has her eyes popping back open. “The next time I … ” I move my hand so that it’s gripping her chin, and I swipe the pad of my thumb against her plump bottom lip. It comes away from her bottom teeth, and her breath whooshes from her lungs. “... take this mouth, I will know the name of