We sat across eachother on separate leather seats; the glimmer of deep red from the half full, half empty wine glasses kissing the corner of my eyes; reflections of the fire hitting the crystals and gold. Darkness in here was like a warm hug and his eyes were so inviting.
I smiled to myself, leaning forward to pick up my wine glass. I took a sip, looked up, and spoke, "you know, everything has its time and place."
He was cautious, but still generous enough to show me he wanted me. He leaned his elbows on his knees and diverted his gaze, smiling to himself, "you know, you're persistent."
"You give me reason to be."
He got up, placing his glass on the table again before sitting next to me. He leaned back, and so did I. I offered him a sip from my wine glass and he grinned, letting me; I watched as the glass touched his lips. I wanted to tell him he was so beautiful in that moment, but I didn't. I put the glass down on the table and leaned back, resting my head on his shoulder. I placed my hand on his thigh and he took it into his.
For the first time in forever, there we sat. A decade of communications, miscommunications and craziness led to this: telling eachother everything, with no words at all.
It was the best conversation I had in my life.