Demure Affection

A Story by Lexi

The clock read 1:00 AM when he called her. He asked, pleaded, for her permission to sneak out and see her. To park his car on the beaten path near her home, sneak her out of her home and into his car. Desperate for conversation, for the presence of someone besides his conscience.
“I need to see you,” he needfully whispered. His voice was full of longing, pure desire. All he wanted was her.
“I want to be with you, but you’re so far. Didn’t it take over half an hour last time? You won’t be here until at least 2 and…”
“I’ll drive as fast as I can. I can be there in twenty minutes, tops. I need you.” His pleads were weaker now, sounding more like a child’s innocent inclination rather than a grown man’s request.
“I can’t get out of the house, my parents will surely hear-“
“I can get you out. I promise. I swear. Just, please let me.”
Whispers. It all died down to a whisper, died down to a miserable silence.
“What are you so afraid of?”
More silence. Painful, hopeless, tender silence. Silence that can only be shared by people too shy to admit their love. Demure affection.
“The power you have over me.”
Terrified, culpable, smitten. She hangs up, regretting her inadequate remarks. Fell into a contrite sleep within minutes.
And he stared at the unchanging screen until the sun came up. Confused, inconsolable, isolated.