A Second's Notice

It's four in the morning and I’m still awake, the moonlight bathing the room in a subset of blue-grey tones, the peachy glow of my skin becoming dulled. With my head resting on my palm,  I begin to play with the golden strands of her messy hair that performed dutifully in shielding her face from the moonlight. With nothing but the muffled racket of old man winter making a fuss outside, I unknowingly hum a nameless tune to myself.

“Kim... Hyo... yeon.” I whisper to myself quietly, secretly anticipating her face when she wakes up. With that thought I begin to wish that the sun would hurry and rise from hiding, just so I could see her eyelashes flutter and catch the glint in her eyes as she looks up at me groggily. However, seeing her fast asleep like this completely drowns me in utter serenity, filling me with peace—the very act of just laying down with her here makes me wonder just how many seconds, minutes, hours I’ve been staring at the clock, at the big and little hands tic and toc, waiting patiently until it was tomorrow, until it was the next moment. The here, the now, me and her, under the dwindling light of the night and ready for the quick arrival of tomorrow’s sun, was all encased in what was a few hours yet felt like a fleeting moment. Morning could wait and the sun could continue to dance just a bit more with the moon.

The hand that had previously been mindlessly twirling her hair now began to gently move the stray strands away to reveal her forehead. A breathy chuckle escapes through my nose. Her forehead. The one place I haven’t kissed this whole night but right now is the place I want to kiss the most. But... wouldn’t placing a kiss on her forehead be a bit too... intimate?

Right, intimate.

Intimacy. Spending a night with someone under the covers and exploring every nook and cranny, all their sensitive spots, kissing every patch of skin... since when has that lost all sorts of the meaning intimacy?

I can’t believe I’m doing this.

A kiss on the forehead suddenly becomes entrenched with so much scandal when you’ve dived into something so complex with nothing but your bare body and your desires, ignoring all consequences.

Consequences like... falling in love.

In love?

I sigh deeply, the thoughts roaming in my head causing me to forget to be mindful of the sleeping girl beside me. Unbeknownst to me, she began to rustle under my touch, a sleepy, low croak rumbling from the base of as she scratched at her cheek, completely unaware that I had been here, watching her sleep for... who knows how long.

“Ppani...”

I really can’t do this. No scratch that, how does anyone do this? Why did I agree to this?

I stared at her intently, my gaze probably a bit more telling than I would have liked it to be.

She’s doing it again. That-that thing. God, I can’t even describe it but my insides are melting from how much of a baby it makes her look.

I lightly pinch at her cheek.

“You’re so unfair.” I whisper into the cool air.

"Ouch..." She winces, but as soon as her muscles relax her lips begin to part, the bottom lip portruding out just a bit more than the upper and before I can rub at her cheek to soothe the 'pain' a familiar sound meets my ears. She's fast asleep, her breathing evening out, mocking the uneven beating of my heart.

She’s pulling at such a familiar string and the pull feels so strong, so magnetizing. But isn’t it just a bit cruel, to keep pulling at me like this? Pulling me along without even trying.

With my gaze fixated on her sleeping face, I carefully lay down with my face right in front of hers, our noses grazing ever so slightly just enough so that I could feel her breath tickle the top of my lip. This is definitely closer than she would like it—cuddling was never her thing. How ironic though, when she was yearning for me to come closer just hours ago when the night was a bit younger, the timing riper, the flames of passion burning brighter.

An experiment, a new flavour to try out, a passing season. Thats all we are. We're not frozen in time.

We're a fleeting moment.

I hesitantly place a soft, careful kiss on her lips as if they were made of fragile porcelain. Biting my lips, my eyes begin to water.

And... A-And tomorrow, in the morning you’ll disappear like usual.

I blink and shut my eyes hard, my eyelashes brushing against hers, and slowly reopen them, the fresh batch of tears now carried away with the motion.

And like usual, I'll wait for the next day when I can see you.

Until time will stop again.

No, crying tonight Tiffany.

But hey at least, there'll be breakfast beside my bed when I wake up.

Sleep.

Just not you.

Sleep 

Not you.

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