Pulse Beneath the Steel

The sun is a heavy weight on my shoulders, but the metal behind me is colder than I expected. My heart hammers—thump-thump, thump-thump—a frantic rhythm against my ribs that refuses to sync with the city's mechanical hum.
I see you. Not just your eyes, but the way they pull at the oxygen in my lungs until every breath feels like a luxury I can barely afford. My skin pricks with goosebumps despite the afternoon heat. It’s that specific ache—the one that starts in the solar plexus and radiates outward until my fingertips tingle.
You aren't supposed to be here, but now that you are, the roar of the construction site fades into white noise. All I hear is my own pulse accelerating, a frantic drummer in an empty hall. A rush of endorphins floods my system like a sudden tide, making my head light and my vision blur at the edges. My pupils dilate, drinking in your presence as if you were the only source of light in this grey labyrinth. It’s not just attraction; it’s a biological surrender. I lean back against the yellow iron, closing my eyes for a fraction of a second to savor the electricity between us. You are the heat in this concrete jungle, and I am already melting into you.

Editor: Heartbeat Monitor