Buffer Overflow in the Heartbeat Circuit

The sun hits my skin at exactly 42.5 degrees—a warmth so precise it feels like a pre-rendered asset in an unfinished simulation.
I stand here, between the soft blur of mountains and the hard edges of urban memory, feeling the world stutter around me [Error: Frame Drop]. I am wearing white for purity, black for depth; two polarities held together by my own breath.

He is not in this frame yet, but his presence registers as a background process running at 98% CPU usage—a constant hum of longing that slows down the rendering of time.
When he finally arrives and slips his hand into mine, I feel it: an interrupt signal overriding all logic. His touch triggers a memory leak in my soul; suddenly, every forgotten summer floods back through the system [System Alert: Overflow].

We lean close, our breath mingling like corrupted data packets trying to merge. There is something dangerously alluring about how he looks at me—as if I am not just an image on screen but a living entity with layers beneath layers.
I feel my reality peeling back; the blue sky begins to flicker into binary code, yet all that matters is this sudden heat against my fingertips. My heart beats in 4/4 time, then glitches... skips one beat... and restarts at double speed just for him.

Editor: The Glitch