"sleep time is over, story time is now!"

following this introduction are two short pieces which i feel might fit into a romantic short story. comments and criticism welcome, as always. oh, and note, the first will be found in the second, but i wrote the first one before the second, yet found it could also fit within the second. not wishing to deprive it of it's individual potency, i chose to present it first, then allow you to see how it fits in with the second composition. enjoy. or disdain. whichever.

1)
thinking about seeing you again - it's exhilarating. when you get off work, i'm just around back, vibing to our number one station, accompanied by the mental percussion of each second bringing you closer to me, and the steps of your feet treading the cool, wet asphalt paving your way to me.
you toss your bag in the bed as you open the cabin door, smiling.
"hey, you"
overcome with a light smile of my own, "hey. you hungry?"
with a light shaking of your head, you close the door. "nah, we'll eat at my place."
we pull out into the night, making our way to what's to be the final destination of the night - stopping at your dining table to detour for pre-couch movie-to-slumber nourishment



2)
“No –”I begin, lightly blocking her hand from disheveling my hair, much to my own dismay, knowing well the bliss borne of her hands upon my receptive flesh. Answering the question her eyes began to beg, I continue, almost smirking as I press the tip of my nose into her inner cheekbone, noses grazing as it passes.
“I want to look my best for you tomorrow night at dinner; I really do. But, because I know you’ve been patient, after dinner, we’ll have some together time which’ll make it worth the wait:

Me, the pressed businessman closing a deal at a top-notch restaurant on my last night on the road; you, the chef looking to impress. You insist I stay for dessert – your specialty. But, with a long drive ahead come morning, I respectfully decline, making my way to the door. You cut me off. With one hand on the breast of my suit jacket, you make your final plea. I catch your eyes for the first time. They don’t let go. I find I’ve agreed to take you up on your offer. Under your spell, I begin to make a move back for my table, but your hand proves and impassible barrier. Gaze never torn from your own, I notice their subtle direction. ‘It’s almost closing. Give me twenty– thirty minutes.’ I believe I manage to eke out a nod.

Thinking about seeing you again - it's exhilarating. when you get off work, i'm just around back, vibing to the radio’s song, accompanied by the mental percussion of each second bringing you closer to me, and the steps of your feet treading the cool, wet asphalt paving your way to me.
you toss your bag in the bed as you open the cabin door, smiling.
‘hey, you.’
overcome with a light smile of my own, ‘Hey. So, where to?’
with a light shaking of your head, you close the door. ‘We'll eat at my place.’
we pull out into the night, making our way to what's to be the final destination of the night - stopping at your dining table to detour for pre-couch movie-to-slumber nourishment”




take care.