Quote by L.A. Witt

“The distance between us was just a few inches of evening air, but his arm seemed to bridge a span of miles and his featherlight touch crumbled walls that had taken years to build. His fingers moved into my hair, and his other arm slid around my waist. My hands wanted to go to him, but in disbelief, I couldn’t move. He took a breath and, for a moment, I thought he was about to speak. Instead, he drew me to him and kissed me. It was a gentle kiss, just his lips against mine as we breathed each other in, but it eased a deep, consuming sense of loss I hadn’t even been fully aware of. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him closer and letting him overwhelm my senses. For all that had been said and all we’d been through, it was this kiss—this deliberate, silent return to the way things should have been—that allowed me to release my breath for the first time in months. In years. I had to break the kiss just to look at him, to remind myself that this was real. Our eyes met, and it was. He was here. My world was back on its axis. There were a thousand things I wanted to say, to ask, to know, but words hadn’t done us a lot of good. All they’d done was keep me from hearing everything he’d tried to tell me all along. Talking could wait until we’d said all the things we needed to say. So I kissed him again.”

Quote by L.A. Witt