He spotted her first and caught her eye, nodding recognition. She smiled wearily, made her way to him, she looked up at him for the first time.
“Hello,” she smiled as she leaned into him.
He smiled shyly back at her, greeting her, offering to take the trolley.
He had warned her before meeting that he didn’t think he would be able to look at her directly. He was right, he couldn’t. He was nervous, scared, had had trouble getting to the meeting point, had been terrified he would be late, was carrying the fear with him. He cast sidelong glances at her while she looked directly into his face, trying to read him.
She talked to him as they walked. He made her laugh. She asked him questions, practical matters, about subways and airports and transport in general, and he said it, unprompted, in response to a question: “Yes Ma’am.”
It took her by surprise.
Then he murmured softly, “That was easy…”
She looked at him, “Was it?”
He smiled shyly and met her gaze. “Yes Ma’am, it was.”
It wasn’t until they were on the subway that she touched him deliberately, her hand going to the back of his neck, squeezing gently, massaging his skin, she heard his breathing deepen, he leaned forward to give her better access to him, and he stayed in that position, head bowed, stop after stop as she stroked his neck, petted his hair. She heard him make a soft sound as he sank into her touch and she knew he was going to be just about perfect.
Continued here: First meeting part II