|Current mood:|| nostalgic|
|Current music:||Sweet Lady - Tyrese|
& now you're looking like i used too
I said I didn't want to live in the past, but I can't stop myself.
I remember that Homecoming. I remember the thrill of the dances and being in his embrace. His strong arms circulating on my lower backside, my arms cautiously tied around the base of his neck, struggling to not appear too short with my 5'3" stature to his 5'11" height.
I remember pressing the side of my face into his collarbone, deeply inhaling the scent that is purely: him. The [seemingly potent and tacky] Abercrombie&Fitch cologne; the hint of peppermint, and the last factor that can't really be described as anything else but being purely his scent.
I remember the close proximity we were in. The feel of my soft chest pushing up against his thin and hard one. Of how we were dancing practically pressed into each other, with no distance between us. I remember leaning my head onto his chest. At the time, I thought it might've been too bold or silly of a move, but now I regard upon the memory with endearing feelings. I was told we looked "so comfortable with each other while dancing".
I remember the the warmth of his voice tickling my ear as he spoke. Of how his voice sent shivers up and down my spine, and I wondered if I gave him the same feelings as I spoke into his ear as we danced.
And as the closing notes played to the final song of the last time I would ever dance with him,
I remember shutting my eyes and wishing that the moment would never end.