"Can I Get Closer To You?"
I ask it quietly, not trusting myself to speak the words.
She hears it anyway, of course. Scooches closer to me, leans her back against my shoulder. I wrap my arm around her slowly, like you might stick your hand up a hollowed out tree trunk, waiting for something to snap at you.
We stay there for a while, and for a while, it feels like enough.
Until she turns around, her face too close to mine, and asks it again.
I smile and pick her up, gently sitting her on my lap. My arms are around her, her hands are resting on mine. With my face in the crook of her neck, we’re about as close as we can be. We sit there for a long time, enjoying each other’s contentment.
Until one of us asks it again.
The borders are blurry now. Neither of us can say if it was us who spoke the question, but at a certain point, it stops mattering. I could feel her, soft and small, on my lap, and I could feel me through her, comfy and encompassing, wrapped around her. We sat there, together, until the sun set and the movie ended. Our overlap was rapidly becoming us, separateness evaporating like a mirage.
The next day, one of us leaves for work. We barely notice the distance.
We’re still as close as we can be.