Between Two Heartbeats, a Universe Breathes

The city outside my window is nothing but a smudge of neon and rain, where the concrete edges dissolve into dreams I can’t quite name.
I stand here in this half-light, feeling your gaze trace lines upon me that aren't visible to any other eye—lines made of silence and old promises.
My fingers curl around my hair not out of habit, but because the air between us has become thick with something unsaid; a tension so delicate it feels like skin brushing against silk in total darkness.
I can see myself reflected in your eyes: rainbow-hued iris dancing under soft lamps, cheeks flushed with the ghost of a laugh we shared ten minutes ago.
You haven't touched me yet, but I feel you everywhere—in the warmth radiating from my collarbone to where the fabric of my dress dips low and invites.
We are standing on that fragile threshold where 'almost' becomes 'always.' The world beyond this room is sharp and demanding, but here, in our shared exhale, everything blurs into a soft-focus eternity.
I want you to reach out and smudge the boundary between us until I no longer know where my heartbeat ends and yours begins.

Editor: The Unfinished