Unspoken

She felt his eyes on her before she even looked up. That fierce kind of claiming look that made goose bumps rise on her arms. She had only known him for a few hours but she wanted more. She cursed time itself for taking so long to join them together.

And no, they weren’t together. No matter what that look said or no matter what she was feeling. It was just a steady tension underlying the room- the want and desire overpowering the TV and radio. No touches, no whispered words, just stolen glances and smiles when the other wasn’t looking.

What a silly way to live, she thought. Here she was with someone she just met already afraid for her own heart. How was that even possible? That he had so quickly wormed his way into her thoughts like that. With his tattoos and ginger hair. It seemed like he had such an unfair advantage over her.

But in those moments when she chanced to look up and meet his gaze, one that pierced into her and was not ended abruptly with a quick smile and shift of eyes, she allowed herself hope. Hope that maybe she too had already wormed her way into his thoughts and maybe he was feeling just as powerless and overwhelmed.

Of course it didn’t make a difference. Neither took that final step in voicing the unspoken want. And soon she was back in her own room, and he in his, both alone with their thoughts. Both trying to forget that feeling because they were sure it was only them that felt it.