December 14th prompt "approach"   

Music:  THIS ENDS NOW || composed by Aleksandar Dimitrijevic. 

She stood, rooted to the spot. The urge to flee was near crippling, yet her limbs were immobilised - invisible bonds refusing to give way. Beads of perspiration dotted her brow, one trickled down her temple in a languid journey over her cheek. Breathing was almost painful now. Short sharp breaths escaped her dry lips as she focused on the hand nearing her. 

His approach - slow, steady, or so it seemed.  Every minute detail was extraordinarily emphasised. She noted the texture of his skin. Weathered. Details from his sleeve-tattoo, serpents and rose thorns, leaked out from under the fabric of his shirt, slithering down and wrapping around his knuckles. Nails just crowning the tips of his fingers, amazingly well manicured; the half-moons of his cuticles on clear display. How was it she was able to take in such fine detail? Under such ... pressure. Her heart started to pound louder.

"Easy." His voice, rasping. "You know I -"

"Just do it!" she said in a rushed breath. Her body started to feel like it was in the throes of a fever. Heat was fleshing out from her midriff to all extremities - fear was writhing around her like a yawning maw, threatening to swallow her whole.

He stepped closer, the sound of his footstep booming in her ears. Her attention honed in on his clothes -  the weave of the cloth - its criss-cross patterns, magnified, shifting slightly as he advanced. Her body trembled.

"You are nervous," he said, a small note of mirth lacing his gravelly speech.

Words momentarily failed her, nausea was building - an added fear. She squeezed her eyes shut. She had to deny passage to the bile which threatened to work it's way up from the fiery pit that was her stomach. After what seemed a timeless exercise, she finally uttered a reply. "I'm terrified."

From somewhere behind, she heard laughter. It made her situation all the more dire.

"Quiet!" The voice growled in front of her. The laughter ceased. Almost.

She forced her eyes open again, the hand was just below her chin. Tears sprang, their salty path running parallel to that of the perspiration beads which, having multiplied, streamed also. "Get on with it!" she said in a hoarse, desperate whisper.

The hand moved swiftly to her shoulder, the fingers curled and closed to a loose fist. He drew back and threw something out of the open window to his right.

An enormous gasp escaped her next, her body folded and she sank to the chair behind her.

"See?" he said. "Told you there was nothing to worry about."

After a few deep breaths and friendly applause from the others in the room, she looked up at her boyfriend. "Easy for you to say, you're not afraid of spiders. That was the biggest fucker I have ever seen and they always either run to or fall on me."

He laughed and pulled her up into a hug. "I'll always protect you from those nasty arachnids."