Micah
I stand on the sidewalk outside of Zariah’s bedroom, staring up at her window, willing her to come down, but I don’t use the mind-link because part of me doesn’t want her to know I’m here.
The moon hangs high above me, full and silvery, and I have no recollection whatsoever of how I got here.
But I’m here now, and all I can think about is the taste of her lips and the feel of her skin beneath my fingers.
A thin veil of fog hangs around me, so I don’t fear that anyone will see me if they look out their windows. I don’t anticipate anyone coming outside, and I don’t think the patrol will be by anytime soon.
I can stand here until the sun comes up, hoping that she will sense my presence and come bounding out into my arms.
Asking myself what I’m doing yields no answers. I know I should go.
But then, I see her coming in my direction, floating toward me like a feather on the breeze, and then she’s upon me, and my arms open and her mouth is on mine.