They hovered on the edge of the kiss, bodies so close she could feel the heat of him, smell the warm, familiar scent of him, taste him on her tongue as his breath caressed her. Eyes half closed she could picture him in the low light, the same look of desire on his features she knew was written on her own.
They hovered on the edge of the kiss, and she was sure nothing could ever be more perfect than this moment of longing, anticipation, even fear.
Then the distance between them disappeared, and she knew just what 'perfect' was.
--end--
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