You’ve got this habit. This tiny movement that you do. And it’s driving me wild.
You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, biting it for a few seconds and then letting it slide away. It leaves your lip reddened, wet, and I really want to know what it tastes like between my teeth.
I used to think that you did it unconsciously, when you were thinking. I’d catch you out of the corner of my eye while you were focused on something else, your fingers drumming out a beat on your leg and your teeth showing slightly as you bit down. You didn’t seem to notice my gaze, and I’d hastily tear it away before I lingered too long, made my feelings any more noticeable.
Right now I’m opposite you, my head back, listening to the music. You’re bent over your guitar, fingers lightly moving across the strings as you follow the chords. You’ve caught your lip in your teeth as you pick out a particularly fast passage, and I just caught you flicking your glance up to me, then quickly away. You know. You can see exactly what your habit does to me.
The song ends. You look up, catch my gaze and hold it, with something mischievous hovering in your eyes.
And then, slowly, deliberately, you bite your bottom lip.