A question.

She lowered her eyes in confusion. There was a moment of awkward silence. Then she looked at me again, tilting her head in the way only a woman can. The reflection of the bridge was blocked by impossibly long and dark lashes.

She said softly, “Are you trying to make a pass at me, Whisper?”

For a split second that seemed to last for an eternity, I was still. I was unsure of how I was going to respond to her. Then, I knew. I knew it as I knew that, come morning, the sun would rise over the horizon and outshine the stars. I knew I was going to kiss her. I knew I wasn’t going to even try to stop myself.

I took her into my arms and her soft hair fell over my hands. She gave no resistance. I bent my head down to hers, lightly brushed her lips with my own. Then, I took her mouth swiftly and deepened the kiss. I felt the undertow pull me down again as I drank the nectar of her lips. I was drowning in her sweetness…