consummate

Locked eyes. Heavy breathing. Silence. Locked eyes, heavy breathing and silence. It was silence pregnant with amorous intents.

They had met just a few hours earlier and had hit it off, her being impressed with his straight talking manner coupled with his dashing good looks peppered on his lean body and him being flipped over his senses by her dazzling good looks and her wonderful, alluring playlist of syllables. It was a match that lit itself.

After the slightly customary chatter, it dawned on both of them that the next step would be to consummate their lust. It was what everybody did and it seemed reasonable to follow suit.

It then occurred to them that they needn’t actually go through with it. Over their talk, they had discovered many a common interest. They both liked to eat out, take long walks, observe the sweet nothings of a silent and dark night and read. They mused over whether consummating their mutual attraction could in fact be done in an alternate form.

That was when they decided to read together.

(Why not?)

Their lust was not for the other’s body, but for the other’s mind. Amorous intents? More like vicious amorous feelings for the other’s presence.

Throwing aside all pretence, they read.

They read!

Alive eyes. Heavy breathing. Silence. Alive eyes, heavy breathing and silence. It was silence pregnant with voracious reading.