Without ever touching his skin

Building up like waves, crashing over my grave, without ever touching his skin.... Guilty as sin ..Taylor swift

***

I've lived a thousand lives, journeyed through pages and pixels, fallen deeply within the realms of fiction, yet never did I imagine I'd find myself in a fantasy made flesh.

The tall, lush savannah grasslands sweep the land like a verdant carpet, our car a solitary ship amidst this enchanting sea of gold. Above us, the clear, dark sky is a mosaic of twinkling diamonds, a celestial masterpiece that watches over us.

And there's him, his gaze ever upon me.

I've come to realize something profound. With him, his eyes have always sought mine. Amidst the crowds, across the distances, even when he stands on the other side of the road—those warm, brown orbs find me, just as mine invariably seek his.

"This is…" Words failed me.

Nothing had prepared me for this. Nothing had prepared me for him. In my quest to find myself, to heal the broken fragments of my heart, I never dreamed that such an encounter would emerge, dreamlike and unbidden.

A soft click drew me from my reverie, and I turned to find my gaze ensnared by a cascade of golden fairy lights, weaving a delicate dance within the car's interior.

The trunk yawned open, revealing a haven amidst the encroaching darkness. Plush blankets and soft pillows lay strewn in an intimate embrace.

"You like it?" Michael's voice, a blend of hope and uncertainty, cut through the night's silence.

He stood there, a portrait of effortless grace against the night's dark canvas, hands tucked into his pockets as if to conceal the flutter of his own nerves.

"What is this?" My voice barely rose above a whisper, a breathless murmur that mingled with the gentle rustle of the savannah.

"This is for us," he replied, his movements measured as he reached for a bottle of wine. "I thought, since our day was upended by my friends' raucous antics, we deserved a proper conclusion. Remember what I promised you?" His words lingered in the air, a soft melody of recollections—A season just for us. A smile slowly touched my lips.

"And there's more," he continued, a spark igniting in his eyes.

"Pizza, a radio for us to enjoy some tunes, and a guitar to serenade the fireflies." His words drew a chuckle from me, as he held the guitar above his head with the boyish smile.

Gosh, he was cute.

"So what's first?" he asked, his smile utterly endearing.

"How about the wine first, then you can show me just how much your voice can draw someone in, to what extent," I suggested, my voice laced with a teasing, flirty undertone.

And so we did, put the night into the motion and as the wine burnt through my throat, my eyes fixated on his bobbing adam's apple with every swallow, bringing vision in my mind, that not so descent.

Time slipped by, and soon he cradled his guitar, settling into the car's back seat amidst a nest of blankets and pillows, the warmth of his body a tangible presence.

"Any song in mind?" His eyebrow arched in playful inquiry.

"Surprise me, make me feel alive," I challenged, my gaze locked steadfastly on his.

"One condition," he declared, his voice a deeper timbre that sent a shiver through me. "You are not to break eye contact with me."

"Why?" I asked, a quiver in my voice.

"Because eyes are the windows to the soul, and music," he paused, a soft strum accompanying his words, "is the medicine for the soul. And I need you to feel me."

Danger whispered at the edge of my senses, yet I found myself asking, "And if I don't?"

"Then you owe me a kiss," he stated, the words hanging heavy with unspoken promises.

"And if I do?" My question was a breathless whisper.

"Then you can do whatever you please with me," he grinned, a dangerous edge to his smile that promised a night of reckless abandon.

The first string of the guitar rang through the nights, and soon his fingers, skillfully played the string and the first lyrics left his mouth…

I took an arrow to the heart

I never kissed a mouth that tastes like yours

Strawberries and somethin' more

Ooh yeah, I want it all"

His eyes bored into mine, holding me captive as the lyrics from the famous Ed Shereen wrapped around his tongue to mine,

Lipstick on my guitar (ooh)

Fill up the engine, we can drive real far

Go dancin' underneath the stars

Ooh yeah, I want it all

Mm, you got me feelin' like

I wanna be that guy,

I wanna kiss your eyes

I wanna drink that smile,

I wanna feel like I'm

Like my soul's on fire,

I wanna stay up all day and all night

Yeah, you got me singin' like

The bright smile that bloomed on my face was involuntary, a natural response to the magic he wove with his voice. But this condition, this unyielding gaze, was a sweet torment.

Into the car

On the backseat in the moonlit dark

Wrap me up between your legs and arms

Ooh, I can't get enough

You know you could tear me apart (ooh)

Put me back together and take my heart

It was in his gaze—the magic, I mean. With every lyric and every guitar's strum, his eyes never wavered from mine, nor did mine from his. We were ensnared in this fantasy, tender and deliberate, a slow dance of glances that sparked a fire within me.

My mind, emboldened by his look, began to wander into uncharted territories, envisioning moments we had yet to share, touches we had yet to explore. His lips on my neck, hands twisting, and my sheets ablaze as his name escaped my lips…

The music came to a sudden halt. It was then I realized, somewhere between reality and fantasy, my eyes had drifted closed, lost in realms of wonder.

My eyelids fluttered open, lifting the veil of darkness that had shrouded my senses. There, inches from my own, were his eyes—a tempest of desire swirling within their deep brown irises.

They held me captive, reflecting a fervor that mirrored the chaos of my own heart. It was a gaze that spoke volumes.

"You lose," he declared, his voice a gruff rumble, deep and resonant with a primal desire that seemed to vibrate through the very air.