43 Forty Three

How could I describe Vincent?

Vincent was like a gentle current. Soft, reassuring, so full of endless warmth. He was comforting. Caring. Slow, sweet and careful. Never too persistent, almost to a fault. Always giving a lot, but somehow never giving enough. He was passionate, so very full of affection, and never afraid to show it. And yet, always in the nick of time, he held back.

Except last night.

Last night, Vincent let himself go for one minute, and one minute only. One minute was enough for a kiss that felt like it lasted forever, yet ended so quickly. One minute that was enough to fill my head with even more questions than I had before it, about how Vincent really felt about me.

He wasn't like the others.

At least, it felt like that.