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I watch as his head tilts.

My mouth went dry.

He lifted his other hand and places it on my other hip. Both hands now gripping onto me through my dress.

He moves us.

We walk forward.

All the way until we are almost flush against the mirror.

I watch him over my shoulder as I wait to see what he does next.

His hand trails up from my hip and he moves it forward and places it against the mirror beside my head.

It boxes me between his body and the mirror without actually tapping me.

I knew I could move.

That was the problem.

I didn’t want to.

I watched his reflection instead.

For a year, I’d wondered about the man behind the mask.

I’d imagined finding him again.

Wondered what I would say.

What he would do.

I’d never imagined we would be in this position.

His thumb on the hand that was still on my waist moves.

Slow.

My breath caught.

He tilts his head.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

The smart ass remarks just won’t stop coming now.

No answer.

I smiled anyways.

“Asshole.”

His grip tightened.

Just slightly.

And my smile disappeared.