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Senses.. (2)

He felt his facial muscles adjusting as his forced smile was slowly turning into a perfect 'O' of astonishment, just as his eyes registered her beautiful shocked face.

Was it really possible that it was her? Or were his eyes playing the same cruel trick they have been repeating for the past five years?

'It must be her' he thought, as the voices around him faded into the background, his heartbeat drowning every other noise and his feet involuntarily taking him towards her. He could see her physically hunching her shoulders and lowering her head, as if preparing herself to go into the foetal position. All he wanted to do was hold her small body in his arms, stroke her hair and tell her that it was all going to be ok.
It was finally going to be ok, because now it was their time to be together.
He stood by her desk, self consciously adjusting his posture as he remembered how she always pushed his broad shoulders to straighten his back, and how she gently massaged the tight muscles in his neck with her delicate cold fingers when he complained that she hurt him.
She looked up at him, a million questions running through her beautiful sad eyes, but he didn't answer, he didn't want to; all he wanted was to freeze this perfect moment, where it was her and him, he wanted to close his eyes, and imagine that everything was perfect again.
'Everything will be perfect,' he thought as his eyes frantically searched her slim finger for any signs that she was no longer his. Even with the absence of any rings he would never be sure, he had to know, he had to ask, but how could he? He can't ruin this moment by speaking, the moment where anything is possible, where the whole world is in the palm of his hand.
His world is right in front of him and yet he didn't know what to do.