Tonight, Tonight, Tonight.
I'm waiting for, waiting for...
What was she waiting for? He was right there beside her and he kept looking at her with that look that seemed to be screaming desire.His looks were something else. When he looked at her she didn't just feel pretty, she knew she was pretty.sometimes he looked at her with such wonder she couldn't help but question what he was actually thinking about. he has this way of grounding you in the situation to the point where the room you're in melts away into the background, sounds dim and people fade and all you are left with is this exchange with him. a one-on-one where clocks follow their own sense of time and she's left feeling lost in the moment.
Tonight, Tonight, Tonight...
she knew she was being a pain, purposely trying to get his attention, to make him watch her instead of his work. she was being selfish but to catch that smile of his, directed at her...she bends over for a book. she saunters around the room. she perches on the desk. finally she takes a seat and touches his arm, she allows her head to touch his shoulder just for a second as she teases him about work. however, the knight's armour is in fine form tonight. but then he rolls his chair back beside her and she can feel her breath catch in her throat as he stops in line with her.
he had asked her to come...well sort of. he had said she could if she wanted but those eyes felt like they were asking her to come. they beckoned her, tugging at her compulsions. she wondered if her eyes were screaming yes even though her mouth was trying to act cool. was he just trying to act cool? or maybe the invitation was out of politeness? another look in those eyes and she knew she was going, the pied piper had played his tune and she felt herself fall into step directly behind.
If words could make it real I'd tell you how I feel
His tune changed to her tune. he was playing her song now. those fingers moved across the strings effortlessly hitting each chord as though he had played it before, as if it were his song too. her breathing quickened as she watched his hands. he played her with each strum, did he know? the guitar might as well have been her body. she felt each chord played, each transition. the hair on her arms rose as she watched with bated breath wondering where he would touch her next, each stroke causing her heart to pound a little harder. his eyes flick up to hers momentarily, just enough to catch her gaze before the connection is shattered and his focus returns to her song. she tries to gather the fragments and put them together into some kind of coherent understanding of what his glances mean. what does he want from her? He looks her way again...eyes lock...
Instead I'm waiting here on my knees
She takes the guitar from his hands, taking his left hand and placing it on the curve of her back. play me, she whispers as she lowers herself onto his lap. his right hand slides up her thigh, strumming out a new song now. her body responding with each new chord that is played. she shivers and he looks away. shattered glances on the floor once more, he's still playing her song. she sings to distract herself from the reality-bending pull from his eyes.
it's getting late.
I'm waiting for, waiting for
he pulls her in for a hug and instead of a quick friendly embrace his arms take her in and pull her against his body as he lifts her from the ground so that her face is parallel to his. there they stand, with her suspended in mid air, cheek to cheek in a moment that passes far too quickly and yet lasts a lifetime. she fights the urge to wrap her legs around him a prompt that might coax him into pressing her up against the wall in what will inevitably be the beginning of more than "friendly" activities. as he places her back on the ground and slowly pulls away, she tries to hold onto the touch allowing herself to peel off of him with the same steady and yet regretful motion as that of melted wax dripping down a candle. she could kiss him right now. she knows she could easily turn her face slightly as she slides past his. she could say something. she could tell him she was going to kiss him just like that first night.....
Tonight, Tonight, Tonight...
But she had set rules. she had said that behaviour had to be appropriate. she had said that she would respect his wishes and his situation and be supportive. she had said she could do that. he had almost let her go. what would he think of her if she did? would he think she was disrespectful, that she obviously didn't listen to his concerns?
I know how it feels to breath with you beside me
I think about it always
touch lingers as fingers interlock and reluctantly fall from one another. he backs away from her and the oxygen leaves the room as she starts towards the door. she looks back to wave, to flash one of her signature smiles. her mouth says goodnight, her eyes say i don't want to leave. he says goodnight. he puts on a half smile that seems to say dont leave me and she fights with her better judgment, knowing that if she steps forward and he doesn't she'll have more than a bruised ego and that's not something she's willing to let him see. so she keeps walking
i'm waiting for, waiting for
she doesn't hear him say come back. she's focusing on making her feet walk forward, one after the other. right. left. right. left. had she heard she would have been in those arms. confirmation in her hand, she would have been with him
Tonight, Tonight, Tonight
i'm waiting for, waiting for the night
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