I blink.

I blink and the water droplets race down the sides of my face, falling to the paper. They hit the ink from my pen and it spreads out to the sides like specimen between plates of glass under a microscope. The messy haze is much like my current state of mind. Fogged and unclear. A thousand shades of grey instead of black or white.

I shouldn't love him - I tell myself I don't. I ignore the tightness in my chest, the ball that rolls inside the pit of my stomach, the undeniable urge to run next door and share this with him. I ignore it all because I shouldn't love him.

I reread the words once, twice, three times.

When I set the pen down, I realize my hands are shaking. Going back into the bathroom, I dry myself off and grab the minuscule hair dryer to dry my hair before changing into a tank top and a pair of loose cotton pants. I pile the hair on the top of my head and wrap a bandana vintage style to keep my fringe out of my face.

The room is air conditioned and cool but it's a welcome change from the oppressive Memphis heat.

I lie on top of the covers and close my eyes. The image of Finn slips itself into my mind. A thin wall the only thing that separates us even though it feels like we are worlds apart.

I want to believe it's as easy as it was today. That things between us didn't need to feel strained but nothing was that simple, was it?

The knock on my door is so quiet, I barely hear it. The second time, it's louder so I rise to my feet and open it.

"Never open the door without looking first, Laney," Finn scolds. "Stranger danger and all that."

He's showered too because he's changed into a pair of shorts and a red shirt. I'd always loved red on him and I wonder if he's done this on purpose. 

He smells like cucumbers and mint and aftershave.

"What are you doing here?"

He puts his hand in his pocket and pulls out a torn piece of paper.

It's an ad with today's date and 'Movie in the Park' written across the top.

"I couldn't sleep," he says, "so I thought maybe you wanted to go see a movie."

I should say no. I should try to write some more but instead I say, "Yeah, sure. Just let me grab a sweater."

"Cool," he replies. "The park isn't far from here but we can drive if you want."

"No," I say. "I'd like to walk. I've had enough in the car for one day."

"Alright," he says, "We need to stop and grab something first though."

I root through my luggage and select a cardigan, even though I'm convinced I don't need it and follow Finn to his car. He grabs a plush blanket from the trunk and after a quick stop at a convenience store for chips, chocolate and soda we're on our way.

The park isn't too busy but we select a spot near the back. Finn shakes out the throw and sets it on the ground and we deposit our goods and ourselves down on the blanket.

He's already torn the candy bar open and is breaking the chocolate into squares. He pops one into this mouth and smiles before offering it to me.  

I take a piece and place it in my mouth, waiting for the cocoa to begin to dissolve.

"What do you think is playing?" I ask.

"I saw a sign when we came in," he replies. "Something with Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers."

I'm trying to play it cool but can't help the smile that crosses my face. "What? Really?"

"Mmm hmm," he says. "Real old school and classic. Kind of fits in with the rest of our day, don't you think?"

I clasp my hands together. "It's perfect."

His eyebrows pinch together. "You never told me you had a thing for old films. I'm kind of surprised."

"I never told you because it's cheesy and I didn't want you laugh."

He looks hurt. "I'd never laugh at you. Look, I realize the faith you currently have in me is questionable at best, but I'd never make fun of you for liking something."

I shrug and pretend the fact that he's hurt doesn't hurt me. "Sorry," I say. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"It'll take a lot more than that to offend a guy like me." He nods to where I sit. "You look like you're trying to balance a book on the top of your head, pretty girl. Relax a little, yeah? You're all stiff and ramrod straight. We're just two old friends watching a flick. You don't need to be sitting like a soldier ready to take orders."

He's right. I know he's right because this rigid stance, this defensive posture has taken over my body for years. I inhale sharply and roll my shoulders forward trying to appear like I even know how to let go.

Finn's lips flicker in amusement at my efforts. When did I become such a freak? When did a task as simple as relaxing require an exertion of effort?

Ridiculous.

The screen in front of us flickers before music starts. Finn slides behind me, his voice tickles my ear. It's softer than I've heard in a while. The same voice he used to whisper to me in the dark. The same voice that told me he'd love me until forever and longer than that.

"Trust me," he says. "Just for right now."

My brain is screaming at me, begging me to move. My heart pleads with me to stay.

Fred Astaire is talking to Ginger Rogers and I sigh, easily losing myself in the film. In it's simplicity. The two begin to dance and as I watch, I'm transported to a place where things weren't so complex.

Ginger didn't question Fred like I question Finn.

I realize that without realizing I've begun to relax. My back is melting into Finn's front and I'm leaning on him for support. I should probably sit up but I don't and as his fingers start to make small circles up the length of my arm I don't want to.

"Tell me what it is you like most about the old movies."

"There's no gimmicks," I say. "No special effects, no computer generated things. Everything is raw and real."

"What about the romance?"

"That doesn't hurt. Neither does the dancing," I admit. "I mean c'mon, look at them," I point to the screen where Fred is twirling Ginger, sweeping her across the dance floor in some grandiose gesture. "That looks like fun."

My back is suddenly cold. Finn has moved. He stands and offers and outstretched hand that I simply look at.

"What?"

"Well," he says. "I can't promise I'll be half as good as Fred's third cousin twice removed with two left feet but I can try. Dance with me?"

"Dance with you?"

"Yes," he says. "Be my Ginger."

"I can't dance," I reason.

"Neither can I," Finn says. "Not even close but it won't stop me from trying."

I reluctantly place my hand in his and let him pull me upward.

When we're at eye level, Finn smiles. His arm wraps around my waist and pulls me close to him. He begins to sway, the music on screen has stopped and it's him I hear instead. He's singing a classic Elvis song about being unable to help falling in love and I melt inside.

He's palm to palm with me and he pushes me out, spinning me under his arm before reeling me back to him.

I laugh.

"That sounds like music to me," Finn says. "The way you laugh. You should do it more often."

"I'll try," I say. I rest my head on his shoulder. His singing stops but he still hums the pretty tune. He still sways.

"Finn?"

"What?"

"What did your letters say?"

"That I miss you," he says without hesitation. "That I love you. That I'd love you till forever and that I was counting the days until I saw you again. That if that happened in a month, a week, a day, an hour, that it wouldn't be soon enough."

"I missed you too," I finally allow myself to say it. To say something out loud. It feels like a fifty pound weight has been removed from my chest.

"I can't tell you how many times I looked at the sky and wondered if you were looking at the same stars as me. Wondered what you were thinking," Finn says. "I know I'm asking a lot from you with the whole songwriting thing Laney but that's what you're meant to do. I know it. I can feel it. Don't deny yourself anyone or anything you're passionate about."

I look up at him. His eyes are cobalt, his expression as raw and real as the film on the screen. His words, genuine. I swallow the lump in my throat. "I won't."

It's just after midnight when Finn drops me off at my room. "Tonight was the best time I've had in a while," he says.

"Me too."

"I want to kiss you but you're not ready."He's so wrong. I'm so ready. I look at my shoes then brave a glance back up at him and he continues to speak. "When you're ready, you tell me okay? I'll wait forever to kiss you again."

"Goodnight Finn," I say.

"Night."

He waits for me to slip inside my hotel room before I see his shadow pass the window to go to his own. The same thin wall separates us; only now I feel like I could power through it with nothing more than a few words.

I don't take my shoes off, instead, I head to my ink blotchy composition and set pen to paper for a second time in one night.

You never left my waking thoughts,  

You haunted all my dreams,  

My heart and soul, they always fought,  

To keep from bursting at the seams,

You said until forever,  

You swore you loved me so,  

Those ties, they finally severed,  

Why'd you let me go,

Now you're back to terrorize,  

To shatter me once more,  

For all those times I'd fantasized,  

You'd walk right through that door,

A dance shared in the moonlight,  

My heart exposed for you to see,  

Your arms close in and hold me tight,  

I'm begging, please just kiss me.

This time, I can't contain myself. I grab the sheet of paper and bolt from my room to his. My fist pounds on the door almost as if I'm holding a winning lotto ticket instead of the start of a song.

Finn is shirtless when he answers, his expression tired but shocked.

"Kiss me," I say, waving the paper before shoving my palm and the crumpled loose leaf to his chest. "Everything about the thought of being with you inspires me. Everything about the reality terrifies me but I'm ready to try. Kiss me, Finn, please."

Finn's features darken then he makes his move.