"One thing at a time," he whispered.

     One thing at a time. Maybe that's how his mind worked, but not mine. I take on a billion things, let in a billion thoughts, and try to let my mind sort things out on its own. There were myriads of thoughts dancing through my head, and I was about to open my mouth to tell him so. But when I looked up at him, I forgot what I was going to say and everything that was rattling in my brain suddenly disappeared.

     His eyes were the perfect shade of emerald and once I got lost in them, I couldn’t seem to find my way back. Our gazes locked on each other. Neither of us said a word. In fact, I’m not even sure either of us were breathing in that moment. He blinked once, and his eyes moved quickly, as if he was reluctant to stop staring into mine. He started to draw closer, though, and I glanced down to his lips.

“Let me kiss you,” he mouths. So I do.

     His lips are warm and soft, and they feel like home pressed against mine. After a few seconds, I thought the moment would end. It didn’t. And soon our kiss felt like fire, as if his lips were aflame and my lips were aflame and the space between was just embers waiting to explode. Finally he drew away, our lips separating. But he took his thumb and grazed it against my bottom lip; it burned in the best way.

     I watched him for the longest time after that. He sat there silently and I did the same. He ran his fingers through his hair. I looked down at his chest, which was rising and falling quickly, and only then did I realize that mine was doing the same. Neither of us said anything more. We didn’t have to. My mind was too preoccupied with him to be thinking of anything else, so I didn’t. I continued there, for a long while, to think of him, and his eyes, and his lips, and the flames we created, and the synching of our heartbeats, and everything in between.

     He killed my thoughts merely with his presence; maybe that's why I let him build a home in my heart.