Waiting to meet you at the station my stomach keeps fluttering. I keep thinking of that slow smile you have, how it reaches your eyes first, then spreads. I think of the last time we were together, the last kiss we had at a very different station, how it sent that strong thick current of electricity through my centre all the way to between my trembling legs.
My eyes dart between the crowds, and the arrivals board. Not many people know they exist, let alone look at them, but I have been here for half an hour already. I started by pacing, then treated myself to a Starbucks -- some excuse about needing the energy. I've run my hands over my hair enough to calm me, but stopped because I can't make it too greasy -- you'll be running your hands through it soon enough. Now though, now I just stand still, waiting, feeling the crowds move around me, not caring whose path I might be in. Usually I'd watch the people, but every muscle in my body is waiting for a platform number -- your train's due in only 4 minutes, it must come soon.
Suddenly the board refreshes, and the number pops up -- I've positioned myself right in the middle of the station, where I can get to all platforms quickly without having to run or jostle through crowds. I check it twice, before walking, not running, quickly and with a little swing to my step, towards your platform. I'm thankful of my boots being comfortable, and of the little boost they give me, not only in height so I can reach your lips more easily, but in confidence. I shouldn't be nervous but I am.
Sliding through the crowds, I know the station well enough that I know exactly where I'll wait as soon as I see the platform sign. I shift my bag further onto my shoulder, and pull my iPhone out of my jeans pocket. I stand and lean against a timetable sign, planning to look nonchalant as you appear from the platform -- toying with not even looking up, just waiting for you. But that's just facade, and I realise it has no place with you. We're just as excited as each other, and it's ok -- more than ok. So I put my iPhone away, and return to what I want to do -- staring intently at the still empty platform.
When your train pulls in my body straightens, like a gundog ready for the shots to be fired. My heart hammers in my ears louder than the muffled announcers voice over the tannoy. I start wondering which carriage you're in, should I have asked, how long will it take you to pick up your bags, be ready. Will you be as excited as I am? Doubts run through my head ... until I see you, head above everyone else, emerge from a carriage half way down.
The very sight of you makes my muscles relax, and I walk towards the platform, threading through the throng coming off the train towards the gates -- not so close as to get mown over, but close enough. I know the moment you see me, because your face lights up, and your eyes even from 50 feet make me melt. My leg jitters impatiently as you get ever closer. Your ticket's in your hand, your bags on your back, you're getting ever closer -- ticket through the gate... and you come up short. The ticket ejects back at you -- you've put it in the wrong way perhaps -- your eyes have been on me. I can't help but giggle and more of my tension releases.
Then you're through and I dart past a group of kids and into your arms, forgetting the world but for hooking my arms around you and pressing my lips to yours. And there it is. That kiss. It's everything I remember, familiar somehow and yet fresh. I feel your lips curve at the same time mine do, open my eyes to see you looking straight into mine, and my world feels right.
I have to break the kiss just to laugh with happiness, it's too much for a smile to contain. Your hand cups my face softly as I laugh, and I lean gently into it -- your head tilts with mine and you lean down for another kiss. My hands slip from your neck round your back, and I pull you close, tearing myself away from the kiss only to bury my face in your chest and breathe deeply. I need that moment to stop the giddy feeling.
"Shall we?" I pull reluctantly away, aware there's probably a small and scattered audience watching, but keep one arm around you and steer you towards the exit. As we walk I have to keep tearing my eyes off your face so I know where we're going, but it's hard every time. I plant kisses on your arm, and pull you as close as possible without tripping us both up. Walking down the steps is impossible linked as we are, so my hand finds yours instead, and I feel like a school girl, like I could start swinging our arms together and skipping -- if it weren't quite so silly to do.
Once we're on the pedestrian part of the Southbank, I pull you towards the edge overlooking the river, and turn my back to it. I let your hand drop, and mine go to your neck, to pull you in for another kiss. Your hands slide round my waist, and I feel incredibly feminine and almost delicate in them. Even though I probably need not, I go up on tiptoe, and though you probably expect me to kiss your socks off, I don't. I stop, about an inch from you, and just look into your eyes for a moment. They smile at me so softly, and then just as a question is about to appear in them, I ever so lightly kiss your bottom lip, smile, then your top... I'm half teasing, half unable to keep kissing as the smiles take control of my lips.
I see a change in your eyes as the teasing becomes slightly too much, and you kiss me fully, melding our lips together again and again... your arms wrap round my waist and pull me close, and my hands grasp your shoulders. My legs feel like they're about to give, but you've got me, between the railings and you, I won't fall. You wouldn't let me, so I give myself over to the kiss. Let it seep into my bones and warm me.
And then I feel a pressure -- pushing lightly against my lower stomach, it makes my smile reappear -- but this time it's a different smile. I lean back slightly with my upper body only, not losing contact, and cock an eyebrow at you. "Pleased to see me?"
"Oh yes." you murmur, and run your thumb over my lips, down my neck. I shiver, as you knew I would, and any part of me that wasn't tingling starts.