Published: June 1st 2025, 11:11:30 am
He noticed her boots right away—black, patent leather, with a slight squeak of leather with every step. They hugged her legs as if they had been molded especially for her, emphasizing every curve. His fingers involuntarily clenched into fists, as if trying to hold on to an imaginary touch.
How he wanted to run his hand over the smooth surface, feel the coldness of the patent leather, and then the warmth of her skin through it. To linger on the laces, if there were any, or on the zipper, slowly, gently... But he looked away.
No, not now. Maybe never.
He had not yet earned the right to touch her. He had not even earned the right to think about it. And so he simply looked at her — from a distance, with respectful, agonizing admiration.