As I sit, staring at the coffee cooling in the cup, my stomach fills with butterflies. I tentatively try to take a sip of the hot brew. My hands are shaking so badly that none of the liquid reaches my mouth. I set the cup back down quickly, spilling a few drops onto my skin. It burns, but I relish the distraction.
After I sop up the mess I made with my nervousness, I just sit and stare into my cup again. My mind wanders and I don’t even notice when he approaches.
After several minutes, he touches me on the shoulder. I start and bump the table, spilling more coffee. Embarassed, I jump up to flee to the nearest exit, but he stops me with a touch of his hand.
He pulls me close to him in an embrace. Some of my former tension eases upon hearing the beating of his heart. I regain enough sense to slip my arms around him and hug back. A sigh of relief escapes his lips.
Without even one word being spoken, he takes my hand and leads me outside.