Coffees with Luke & Audrey

XVII

“And she hugged me. And I closed my eyes because I wanted to know nothing but her arms.”

— Stephen Chbosky

Audrey tried to protest because – honestly! Finals were in a matter of days and time to study was rapidly dissolving. But whatever complaint she might have had was cut short when he suddenly yanked her to her feet, lifting one hand to his shoulder and gripping the other with his own. He wrapped his free hand around her waist and pulled her body into his, and when he moved, she allowed herself to sway with him.

She was not much of a dancer, had always been too clumsy and shy for that, and what few times at school when she had had no choice, it had never been like this. On one account, the boy she had been paired with was the heartthrob of the school, and unsurprisingly she was not as immune to his looks as she liked to think. Only at the time half the male population in her school thought she was too nerdy or weird and being around thirteen she had been too young and awkward to initiate anything, and hence they had danced with as much distance between them as possible.  

She found she liked dancing like this. Or maybe it had nothing to do with the dancing at all. They could barely hear the low hum of her music drifting from the other room. She doubted they were even dancing in time with the song at all. But her face was turned up into the crook of his neck, her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heat. And his arm was curved against her back, holding her to him, the hand on her waist tracing small patterns over her oversized jumper. She moved closer. He hummed softly, a low satisfied sound.

For five blissful minutes, there was only the wavering voice of some singer she could not recall the name of and the gentle brush of his clothes against hers without the worry of exams or work hanging over their heads. Just silence. And she wondered if that hadn’t been the point all along.