Tell me how to love you

The mall bustled around them, the usual hum of shoppers filling the air—the distant sound of voices mingling with the soft click of heels against the polished floor. Mark and Emma had just stepped through the door, their footsteps muted in the vastness of the space. It was a typical scene, almost ordinary. People moved in every direction, glancing at store windows or chatting casually. But as they walked further in, something inside Emma shifted. The air around them felt charged, though nothing seemed to have changed. It was as though the world had momentarily slowed down for just her, for just this moment.

They were walking casually when they happened upon the couples. Emma's gaze caught them almost instantly. Two couples stood not far ahead of them, side by side, standing close together, bodies touching. Without any hesitation, Emma's eyes fell on them, drawn by an almost magnetic pull. The first couple, young and carefree, were standing just a little too close, their hands brushing before one of them leaned in. It was a soft movement at first, but then their lips met, slow and gentle, a tender kiss, one that spoke volumes without a single word. The other couple, only a few steps away, mirrored the same quiet affection, their lips brushing softly, shared in a moment that felt intimate and private, even in the middle of a crowded mall.

For a long moment, Emma couldn't look away. Her breath, though steady, seemed to slow as she watched them, her eyes fixed on their closeness, their softness. The kiss wasn't hurried, nor was it filled with frenzy. It was simple, delicate, something that transcended the noise and movement of everything else around them. There was a tenderness in it, a quiet understanding that spoke of connection, of being completely present with someone else in that fleeting, shared moment.

Emma's chest tightened, a soft ache blooming in her heart as she watched them, unable to tear her gaze away. There was a yearning there, subtle but undeniable, growing inside her with each passing second. It wasn't jealousy; it was something more. She wasn't envious of the couples. No, it was something else. Something deep, something buried beneath layers of thoughts and unspoken feelings. Emma wasn't just seeing them kiss—she was imagining herself in their place, imagining the tenderness, the closeness, the kind of kiss that wasn't just a fleeting brush of the lips. It was real, grounded, full of meaning.

She didn't move. Her feet felt heavy, as though the ground beneath her had become too solid to lift her away from the scene she was witnessing. Her thoughts swirled, fragmented. She didn't even realize how much time had passed until Mark, who had been walking beside her, spoke. His voice broke through the quiet tension that had woven itself around her, pulling her back to the present.

"Oh, did you want to go that way?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder toward the stores.

Emma nodded, though it took her a moment to gather herself, to shake off the lingering weight of what she had just witnessed. She smiled, a little too quickly, a little too brightly. She could feel the weight of her heart in her chest, the pulse of it, strong and steady, but also so full of something she wasn't sure how to name.

They continued walking, but Emma's mind was elsewhere. The mall around her faded. The buzz of the crowd turned into a distant hum, and the only thing she could think of was the kiss. The couples were still fresh in her mind. It wasn't just the kiss itself—it was everything it represented. It was the closeness, the feeling of being wanted, of being cherished, of a connection so intimate that nothing else in the world mattered in that single moment. She wanted that. No, more than that—she needed it. She wanted it with him, with Mark.

But she said nothing. She kept her thoughts to herself, locked away behind the quiet mask of her smile. Her fingers tightened around her purse strap, almost too tightly. Her chest felt tight, as if a weight was pressing down on her heart, a weight she hadn't fully noticed until now. It was the weight of unspoken longing, of desires she had kept hidden for so long.

Then, in the space between her thoughts, she felt something shift—something subtle, but undeniable. Her gaze, slow and quiet, shifted over to Mark. He was walking beside her, unaware of the turmoil unfolding within her. He was just…him. Carefree, easy, as he always was. But something in Emma changed then. Her gaze softened, and she found herself studying him. Not as she always did, not with the familiar fondness, but with something deeper, something that made her heart thud just a little louder.

Her steps slowed, ever so slightly, without her even realizing it. Her gaze lingered on his side profile—his jawline, the way his eyes flicked over the shelves, the small curve of his lips as he smiled at something ahead. She felt herself leaning just a little closer, the distance between them shortening imperceptibly. She didn't make it obvious, didn't let him see it. She didn't touch him, but there was a shift in her, in the way her body responded to his presence.

Her chest tightened again, but this time it wasn't from the ache of watching the couples. It was the soft flutter of something else—the undeniable realization that she wanted him. Not just the playful kisses they had shared before, not the shy pecks on the cheek. No, she wanted more. She wanted to feel him, truly feel him, in a way that she hadn't before. She wanted the kiss that she had seen—slow, meaningful, with all the softness that came with it.

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks, though she tried to steady her breath. Her eyes lingered on his lips for a fraction of a second before she quickly shifted her gaze back to his eyes, afraid that the weight of her thoughts would become too obvious. She didn't speak, couldn't bring herself to. She didn't know how to put it into words, the desperate yearning that had wrapped itself around her heart.

Her heart raced as she took a slow, deliberate step closer to him. She didn't touch him, but it was almost as if her body couldn't help itself. Her shoulder brushed against his, just enough for her to feel the warmth of his skin, and she inhaled sharply, as though his proximity was both comforting and unnerving all at once.

She didn't say anything. She didn't need to. Her eyes, her body, they were speaking for her. Her face was a quiet mirror of everything she felt. She wasn't hiding it anymore—she couldn't. The longing, the desire, the need for more, it was clear in the way she looked at him, in the way she drew closer without even thinking about it.

For a long, breathless moment, they walked in silence. Emma's heart beat in her chest, loud and rhythmic, and with each step, she drew nearer to him, hoping he would feel it too. She didn't know what she wanted from him. She didn't know if he even realized the shift in her, the change that had quietly taken root in the space between them.

But there was one thing she knew for certain: everything she had kept hidden, every feeling she had kept buried, was there. She could feel it all, pressing against her chest, waiting for him to see it. To feel it, too.

***

A/N: is she getting on?

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