Wine over matter

You pull up a chair directly across from me at the rather large table. I’m glad to see your face. You seem genuinely pleased to see me and for some odd reason that increases my pleasure. I’m glad you came, you say warmly, you never come out anymore. Don’t stare at them. Ever since that night, I’ve found clever ways to carefully avoid those piercing blues which never fail to hold me accountable with every blink. They remind me of something precious… something ancient. Staring at them now, I feel weak in my knees, a lump in my throat. What is this, butterflies? I take a sip of my wine and curse my resolve. It doesn’t have a chance tonight.

It wasn’t love at first sight for me. You worked your way into my crevices deliberately, each and every day. I’m glad you did. Your reasons annoyed me at first. I’m too dated for such lucent gambling. But, you were persistent and slowly I warmed up to the idea of you. I started noticing the color of your ties and curvature of your smile. Do you know that your eyes dance when you smile. But, mostly you won me over with your compassion. Like the time when you carried those boxes 3 flights up for a neighbor, without being asked. You throw yourself into the mix without waiting for an invitation. You see a need and roll up your sleeves. I dig that about you. How is it that you make everything seem so effortless? Nothing seems to rattle you. Confidence is dead sexy. You seek the hard stuff like a magnet. If I had to guess, I’d bet you never met a challenge you didn’t enjoy.

More people have joined at the table as the conversation picks up. Old faces mingled with new ones without reservation as the wine poured freely.
wine = conversation starter
wine = inhibition dropper
wine = honesty monger
Can I get you another? You cut into my conversation. You seem intent on the moment, on your question… keen on my answer. I shake my head reluctant to indulge and you stiffen visibly. Do you remember why? Do you remember that night when we sat next to each other, hands almost touching, getting dangerously close to… yeah.

Yeah, I’d like that, the words slip out of my mouth interrupting my brain. I can tell by your face that you weren’t expecting it. Your eyes betray you again. Damn, those eyes. They’ve beaten me soundly. You pause for a second, as if to confirm or perhaps you are waiting for my words to reverberate into the inner cavity of you ear. Good, you say rising from your chair, a brilliant smile breaking out of your face, I really want you to stay for another. Me too.

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