Weeks slide by, days merging into night, Sundays slip quietly into Mondays, before she sees him again. She was using Clayton Webb. He knew it, too, and she knew that it was wrong. But he was her thread, her connection to Harm. She snapped it because she realized, one function too late, that she couldn't break a good man's heart to satisfy her own. Instead, she has decided that she must content herself with glimpses and run ins, with occasional hellos and how are yous.
It's mostly her fault. She ended it because, at the time, she was tired of the dancing. Her limbs ached with fatigue and her head was heavy with cotton. The exhaustion had formed itself into words and crawled out of her mouth before she knew it had taken shape. Once they were out, once they danced between them like butterflies, she was forced to defend them. To back them up and give them credence like she believed them.
At first, she thought she had done the right thing. That she had taken the only step they could take when they were dancing on the edge of forever. She stepped back from the precipice. It let her gain a few inches; it let her regain her footing on the loose gravel beneath them.
She didn't know what would happen. She never realized that her body craved him like it used to crave alcohol. So now she contents herself with the glances, the glimpses, and the occasional run ins.
This time he has ventured into her territory. They are at a party for Bud and Harriet. A small celebration for the new baby and to celebrate the fact that they were all there to celebrate the baby.
They spend most of the night circling the room, circling each other. She feels dangerous. She feels like a predator, prowling the room in slinking steps, narrowing in on her prey. Tonight, she will pounce. The lips that ended the possibilities will bring them back to the slippery edge.
Her body is a compass pointing unerringly to him. She waits as he sidles around the room again. He's nervous. She can see it in his body's movements. She can see it in his eyes and she's the cause of it. Her smile feels like its coming from her belly. She angles her body into his path.
He stops short. "Hi."
"Hello."
The word is long and drawn out. The smile widens into a grin when he gulps.