I watch you for a moment before you notice me.
I see you lean back into your seat, one hand raised to the back of your head, your fingers caressing your dark brown hair. It is longer than I recalled but only slightly, and it suits you perfectly.
I consider your warm grey button-down shirt, the collar loosened, the sleeves folded up to just cover your elbows and a little tight around your biceps; yes, I noticed..
I explore the expression on your face as your eyes pass over the magazine you hold in one hand. There is interest yet there is dissatisfaction. There is peace. A hint of a smile appears and lingers as your eyes trace faster across the page for a moment, before resuming their pace.
I contemplate the satchel on the seat to your left covered in part by a thin black coat that ceased to serve its purpose when you boarded in a place far colder than here.
I gaze on as you move a second hand to your magazine to turn the page, your stare remaining attentive, your arms coming to rest on the dark trousers that cover your slightly parted thighs.
I gaze for too long; I feel a weight hit the back of my leg. A small child is loudly scolded for carelessness behind me and your eyes are drawn to the distraction, but instead find me.
As the smile smoulders slowly across your face I inhale deeply and begin on my path across the lounge.
The magazine is flipped shut by one hand, the other is reaching for the bag and jacket beside you.
My heels seem silent against the tiled floor, disguised my pulse as it echoes throughout my body in anticipation.