The smell of coffee and breakfast sandwich they had at the café. Not the greatest food, but what can you expect from the only place open at that hour. He breathes it in, her breath, smelling it, tasting it, wanting every piece he can get. A gust of wind blows, the leaves dance along the station’s pavement and rips the café smells away. Damn wind, taking her away from me. Is everything conspiring against me? His hand on the curve of her hip, pulls her in for another kiss.
“Mmm,” she smiles, her lips pressed to his, pulls back an inch, “I’ll be back before you know it.”
“You’ll be gone longer than we’ve been together.” He sighs.
She tilts her head, “Oh come on. Just because we’ve only been—officially—dating for a day doesn’t mean we haven’t been together.”
“Yeah, I know, I know.” But that label, being part of “a couple” comes with all kinds of perks he wasn’t expecting. Sure, the kisses and hugs are great. Being able to hold her hand, run his hand through her hair—as he’s doing right now—that’s all wonderful. But it’s the stuff you can’t see that means so much. That feeling when he sees her, when they catch each other’s eyes, the jolt in his gut. It happens even when his phone buzzes.
The train cla-clack cla-clacks its way into the station, brakes squeal, metal groans. Its frigid draft tussles their hair and loose clothing. The digital display announcing the time, date, and temperature says it’s below freezing, but they can’t feel it. All they feel is each other. Wrapped in a cocoon of impossible-to-fill desire. But she has to fly, take the train to the airport for the big interview. If she gets the job…Well, they’ll figure that out when it happens.