Those evenings...

My phone's screen lights up and it's a text message from him.

"Hey, can we grab some coffee later?"
"God! He knows what makes me tick." I think.

It's been only two weeks and I already think that time is up, time for me to let my guard down. Maybe it's because he is fun and out going. Well, we met at a friend's party, danced and drunk our sorrows away. Or maybe it is in his eyes, what makes me weak and want to give in so easily? No, not yet, I convince myself and shake off that thought.

"I have my dance class at four today. Can't make it." I quickly tap on the 'send' icon denying my mind a chance to have a second thought.

Time passes by so fast. I have not seen him in three days. He's fine, he probably just gave up on me. No, that's unlike him. Wait, is two weeks and three days enough to 'understand' someone? Should I call? Or maybe texting would be appropriate.
Just as I reach for my phone, there's a knock at the door.

"Come on in."
It's him. I usher him to a couch at the far end of my bedsitter. Who am I kidding? It's the only couch in my space.

"Would you like some juice?"
"No, thank you, I am good."

After a moment of silence, keeping in mind that it was downright wrong for me not to insist, I curl myself beside him.

"How have you been?" He starts.
"Quite fine. Just battling between school work and dance classes."
"Oh well, don't be so hard on yourself. You should hang out sometime."
"I sure will try fitting that into my schedule." I say amidst a chuckle.

He has fragile hands, nails well kept, and a complexion one would kill for. I'm drooling and he notices.

Clears throat, "What are you thinking about?
I sigh, then reply with the most vulnerable voice. "You."

It starts to rain. I fear for what would happen next.