I tried to count the months since I'd seen him as I stepped outside into the cool grass and deep of evening. Unable to process how long it had been, all the while not really caring the moment my eyes settled on him.
His hands bulged in the pockets of his jeans, fisted inside the denim, dark head down, wavy hair longer than I'd ever seen it hanging over his face. His broad shoulders rounded inward, black t-shirt wrinkled over his wide chest, the scuffed toes of his leather boots damp from dew.
I had no control over myself, the way my breath caught as our power linked. How his magic, reluctant in the instant I saw him, surged in answer to mine and wrapped me up in the heat of his power. It was so hard not to run to him, to throw my arms around him. Now that I understood the connection we shared, it was all the more painful. I knew I'd carry this aching longing the rest of my days.