There’s a certain type of high you get from being alone somewhere that usually holds a lot of people. Like being the only person standing in the middle of Times Square, or sitting in the seats of a Broadway theatre, or sitting on a bench in Grand Central Station. It’s this humming energy that you can almost feel — that this place is normally loud and bustling and busy, but in this moment it’s just you, alone in this quiet space.
Some people think it’s eerie; I think it borders on magical.
It was late; nearly midnight, in a place no one should have been at midnight.
Nothing was different. But everything changed.
We broke in and wandered around in the dark, kissing and touching and laughing and doing all the things we couldn’t do when this space was full of people.
We climbed the stairs to the balcony, our lips met, and in moments our clothes were on the floor. I can still remember the taste of your tongue and the curves of your shoulders, and the sound your five o’clock shadow made as it brushed against my cheek and the way you could kiss me breathless —
There was a crash from below us.
Someone was in the room.
If it hadn’t been so dark, we would have been in plain sight. Without anywhere to escape, we shrunk into the shadows. You backed me against the wall and pressed against me, hiding me from view. My arms were wrapped around your waist, pulling you into hiding with me; your lips were against my ear.
A beam of light danced over the room, brushing over windows and seats and stairs, passing just above our heads as you pressed me further against the wall, barely daring to breathe. Our skin was touching, head to toe, and I could feel our hearts pounding like they were trying to burst through our chests.
As we waited for the light to pass, you breathed almost silently, “I love you.”
I couldn’t react. Couldn’t move or say anything, just stood pressed against you and didn’t dare to answer.
But I’m sure, with our faces touching, that you felt me smile.
It was the first time you’d said it to me, and it changed everything.