Elevator

The elevator hissed to a smooth stop.   He stepped out onto his floor, paused a split second and then turned to thrust his arm through the closing doors.  They lurched back indignantly and she quickly looked up from her phone, startled, her eyebrows questioning arcs.  He leaned into her space and said softly, “if circumstances were different I’d be so in love with you.”

Her face went soft.  Her eyes showed not the least surprise, only pleasure deepened in their hazel depths and her hand reached to gently touch his face, running her thumb along his cheekbone.  “I’m very happy in my circumstances and I’m in love with you anyway,” she said.

Then her hand slid from his face down the center of his chest, planted squarely in his pounding heart and gave him a nudge backwards, out of the elevator.  She held his gaze in hers as the doors sliced between them.

 

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