Quiet Hour

He spoke first
A quiet flirtation wrapped in a smile,
A spark he tossed my way
as if he didn't know it would catch fire
the moment it touched me.
But then came the lingering touches, his fingers brushing mine
like he was testing a truth he wasn't ready to say aloud.
His hand resting at my back, as if he needed the contact
more than he meant to admit.
Every time he leaned close, the world narrowed to breath and heartbeat
to the warmth of him beside me.
The quiet promise in the way he didn't pull back fast enough
And I felt it, that deep electric pull
The kind of chemistry that doesn't ask, doesn't wait
Just blooms wild between two people who never meant to collide
But did anyways, beautifully, disastrously
And yet - she's coming to down soon
The girlfriend he still calls his
But the truth hung between us like a held breath
We're both caught in the tension, the wanting, the waiting,
The knowing this connection was never meant to happen, 
yet refuses to fade.
It feels reckless to stand this close to someone who isn't fully free
To feel his touch, linger like a promise he can't make
But some chemistry doesn't care about timing, or circumstances
Or the rules we try to follow, some connections arrive like a storm you can't outrun, demanding to be felt, even when everything says you shouldn't.
And with her on her way, the question hangs between us heavy and electric
So here we stand - hearts unsteady,
Caught between loyalty and longing
Between the life he knows and the one he could have.