The car jolted as it slowed quickly to avoid the couple who were dawdling across the intersection, oblivious to the electric tram that had snuck up the tracks upon which the my walked.
He wasn't prepared for the sudden change in motion and grabbed instinctively for the pole in front, his hand landing squarely upon the warmth of hers, as she had beaten him to it, to steady her own feet. He paused a moment unable to let go as the momentum of the now accelerating car held them together, as if the driver was complicit, cupid whispering in his ear.
He didn't know her, but had seen her once, several weeks earlier and each time he boarded on his way to or from work, he hoped. Childish fantasies he would tell himself, the hopes of the inexperienced who still believed in destiny and the kindness of chance encounters. He was old enough to know better, but the mind wanders as it does and cares surprisingly little for logic, when it doesn't have to speak aloud.
His hand released his grip, a grip he had attempted to make as gentle as he could, as if it would be a signal of his interest. She looked up at him and his own eyes gave his thoughts away, a blush deepening on his skin and she seemed to relish in his discomfort.
She held his eyes and as much as he wanted to look away, he knew he must not. She was confident, despite her frame and there was a steel in her gaze that told that she was more experienced than first appearance would indicate.
He liked that - it is what had caught his attention in the first place. The way she carried herself, the way she moved through the crowd as if floating aimlessly, yet completely aware of the position of every obstacle in her path and her relationship with it. See less integration into her environment, no wasted energy expenditure.
The corner of her lip ever so slightly curled and her eyes closed evet so gently as she turned and looked away out of the window at the couple on the side of the road, still looks of surprise on their faces at the tram running next to them. His eyes had followed hers.
Moments, milliseconds, had passed, yet he felt like he had already spoken, already won her heart, her hand and they had lived a life, their children moved away, with children of their own. The reality of time in the mind is that it is not bound by a clock face, it lives its own speed.
His mind wandered as he moved his focus back to her face and again, he was slower, she had again beaten him to it, the upturned lip a little more obvious. The shine in her eyes were far more, cat with a ball of yarn, than human.
This time, he looked down toward her shoes. Navy blue heels - he wondered how she was able to navigate the aisle as she does in them. He was suddenly aware he was staring and moved back to her eyes, eyes that now seemed to have taken in the color of her heels.
She hadn't stopped looking at him as he had glanced down and she wondered to herself whether he remembered her from those weeks earlier. She had seen him look, but was unsure if it was a look of passing interest, or something more. Little girl desires, she knew better than to care what a man thought of her, yet there she was, caring.
She kept his eyes this time though, not wanting to let go, not wanting to have to wait more weeks with him in her thoughts each time she got onto the tram, every time she even saw a tram.
She had thought about what she would say when the opportunity arose and she imagined handing him her card, or writing her number onto his palm, but nothing seemed right for the tram. What a terrible place to fall in love.
He could see her thinking and he knew that the trip wouldn't last for much longer. Of he was going to act it would have to be soon, but he had no idea what to say or do, he had played it through a thousand times, yet nothing felt like him, or all seemed forced, unnatural and clumsy, even in his head.
The tram pulled to a stop and they liked at each other, neither wanting to move, but she knew it was her stop and she reluctantly pulled herself into the aisle, drew a smile she hoped looked unforced and stepped lightly away and into the exiting crowd. His eyes following, until he felt a pull at his sleeve.
The elderly woman smiled at him, leaned in and said in a voice soft enough that he shouldn't have heard her speak,
"Go. Don't think."
Taraz
[ Gen1: Hive ]