His words hung in the air between us,
and when I turned to look at him,
I realized he wasn't just talking about the city.
The way he was looking at me intensely, deeply,
as if seeing me for the first time made my breath catch.
His eyes held a warmth, a tenderness that was different from the composed,
professional demeanor I was used to.
It was as if, in this quiet moment,
he was letting down his guard, showing me a side of him that few people ever saw.
Our eyes locked, and I felt the world around us begin to fade,
the city lights and the distant sounds of the night becoming
nothing more than a backdrop to this moment.
The beer in my hand felt cool against my skin,
but inside, a different kind of warmth was spreading,
fueled by the connection between us and the
unspoken tension that had been building all evening.
Mr. Cyprus drew in closer,
as if pulled by an unseen power,
his eyes briefly flitting to my lips before returning to meet mine.
His gaze held a hint of doubt and reluctance,
as though he was offering me one final opportunity to back off and maintain the status quo.
However, I stayed put. I was unable to.
My breath was coming a little faster as the excitement mounted,
and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks and my pulse hammering in my chest.
Mr. Cyprus lowered his head slowly,
almost hesitantly, his gaze never leaving mine.
Gradually, the distance between us vanished, and eventually,
I could sense the warmth of his breath on my skin.
With a faint, anxious smile on my face,
I felt the moment's weight descend upon me like a thick, delectable warmth.
And then I started to close my eyes,
giving in to the moment as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
As our faces grew closer,
the atmosphere surrounding us appeared to hold its breath,
the night air heavy with expectation.
At last, his lips touched mine,
hesitantly at first, like he was feeling things out.
I was surprised by the intensity of emotion in the soft,
almost bashful kiss.
It seemed as though we were both learning something new,
something that we were unaware existed until now.
The kiss deepened, becoming more certain as the hesitation melted away.
His hand found its way to the side of my face,
his fingers gently brushing against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.
The warmth of his touch,
the softness of his lips, the way he held me as if I was something precious
it all combined into a heady mix that made my heart race and my knees feel weak.
It wasn't just a kiss it was a connection,
a culmination of all the unspoken feelings that had been simmering between us,
finally coming to the surface.
It felt like the first kiss,
in the way that it was filled with possibility and promise,
and in that moment, nothing else mattered.
"AHHHHHHH!" I screamed as I jolted awake,
feeling the sudden tug of gravity before I hit the floor with a thud.
Disoriented, I blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of where I was.
My heart was pounding, and for a moment,
I couldn't distinguish between reality and the vivid dream I had just been pulled from.
"What? What??" I muttered, my voice shaky as I looked around my bedroom.
My bed was a crumpled mess of sheets,
the soft morning light filtering through the curtains.
I rubbed my head, wincing as I felt the dull ache in my forehead from the fall.
"Wait… am I… was I just dreaming?"
The realization hit me like a ton of bricks.
The kiss, the park, the way Mr. Cyprus had looked at me, it had all felt so real,
so impossibly real.
But now, sitting on the floor of my room,
the reality of it began to crumble away,
replaced by the cold truth. It had all been a dream.
"No… no, it was real,"
I whispered to myself,
the words catching in my throat as I started to sob. "Our kiss was so real…"
Tears welled up in my eyes as I hugged my knees to my chest,
the disappointment crushing.
I could still feel the warmth of his lips, the tenderness of his touch,
but it was all just an illusion?
I buried my face in my hands, letting the tears fall as I tried to make sense of it all.
"How could it have been just a dream?" I sobbed again,
the reality of it sinking in. "It felt so real…"
The sound of the alarm clock snapped me out of my despair.
I glanced at it through teary eyes and saw the time: nearly 8:00 in the morning.
My heart stopped for a second before the panic set in.
"Oh no… I'm going to be late!"
I gasped, scrambling to my feet.
There was no time to dwell on the dream,
no time to wonder how I had gotten home.
I was dangerously close to being late for work,
and the last thing I needed was to walk into the office looking like a mess.
I rushed around my room,
throwing on clothes,
barely giving myself time to brush my hair.
My mind was still reeling from the dream,
but I forced myself to push it aside,
focusing on the immediate task of getting ready.
I splashed water on my face, hoping to wake myself up and erase any lingering traces of tears,
then grabbed my bag and dashed out the door.
The commute to the office was a blur.
I navigated through the crowded streets,
dodging people and cars as I tried to make up for lost time.
My heart was racing, not just from the rush but from the lingering emotions of the dream.
I couldn't shake the feeling of how real it had all felt,
the way Mr. Cyprus had looked at me, the kiss that had seemed to change everything.
Finally, I arrived at the company building,
panting and slightly disheveled, but not late.
I checked my watch—8:57. Barely made it.
I took a deep breath,
trying to compose myself as I walked through the lobby,
my heels clicking against the polished floor.
My reflection in the glass doors showed someone who looked calm and collected,
but inside, my emotions were still in turmoil.
I couldn't stop thinking about the dream,
about the possibility that it might have meant something, even if it wasn't real.
As I stepped into the elevator,
still reeling from the remnants of my dream, I saw him.
Mr. Cyprus, walking briskly toward the elevator.
My heart beat faster, and before I even realized what I was doing,
I instinctively pressed the button to close the doors,
my fingers moving faster than my thoughts.
My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, my mind racing.
Why am I reacting like this? It was just a dream… right?
The elevator doors began to slide shut,
but just as they were about to close completely,
a polished black shoe slipped between them, triggering the sensor.
The doors bounced back open, and there he was,
standing in front of me with a slightly raised eyebrow.
"Why did you suddenly close the door, Miss Violet?"
he asked, his tone light but with a hint of curiosity as he stepped into the elevator.
I felt my face heat up even more, the embarrassment doubling as
my thoughts scrambled to form a coherent response.
"Ahh… Good morning, Cyrus—uh, no, Leo—sir!" I stammered,
my words jumbling together in a rush. Realizing my mistake,
I slapped my forehead lightly with my hand, mortified. "I'm sorry, Mr. Cyprus."
He chuckled softly, a sound that made my already racing heart flutter.
"No need to apologize, Melody,"
he said, his tone gentle as he glanced at me with an amused smile.
"You seem a little flustered this morning."
His words only made me more aware of how red my cheeks must be,
and I cursed myself internally for letting a dream affect me this much.
"I…I... I just didn't see you coming," I lied, trying to keep my voice steady.
"I was in a rush."
He nodded, seemingly accepting my explanation,
though the slight quirk of his lips suggested he wasn't entirely convinced.
As the elevator doors finally closed,
sealing us inside, the small space felt suddenly much smaller with him standing so close.
For a few moments, the only sound was the soft hum of the elevator as it ascended.
I could feel his presence beside me,
every breath I took seeming louder in my own ears.
My mind was still spinning from the dream, the alcohol effect and the
awkwardness of the situation,
and I couldn't shake the feeling that he might somehow
know what had happened in my subconscious.
Desperate to break the tension, I cleared my throat and tried to strike up some small talk.
"Did you… have a good night, sir?"
He turned to look at me, his expression thoughtful.
"It was… interesting," he replied, his eyes lingering on mine for just a moment longer than usual.
There was something in his gaze that made my stomach flip,
as if he was remembering something.
I quickly looked away, focusing on the glowing numbers above the door that indicated the floor.
"That's good to hear,"
I said, my voice barely above a whisper,
trying to keep things professional despite the storm of emotions swirling inside me.
The elevator dinged as we reached our floor,
and I felt a wave of relief wash over me.
As the doors slid open, I stepped out quickly,
eager to put some distance between us and regain my composure.
"Have a good day, Miss Violet," Mr. Cyprus said behind me, his voice calm and measured.
"You too, sir," I replied, not daring to look back as I hurried toward my desk.
My heart was still pounding,
and I couldn't help but wonder if he had noticed just how flustered I was.
As I sat down, trying to focus on the tasks ahead, one thought kept nagging at me
was it really just a dream,
or was there something more to the way he looked at me,
something that neither of us was ready to admit?