"Us"

And he, one day, said, "I am inexplicably tied."

"Tied to what?" I countered, unsure about the direction of the conversation. I looked at him with a confused expression and he smiled, extended his arm and touched his index finger lightly to my knee.

"To this. Us."

I continued to stare into his eyes, waiting for him to look away uncomfortably, or fidget oddly, or cough unexpectedly, or sneeze gratuitously. But nothing - he held my gaze the entire time until I ran my hand through my hair dazedly and shifted markedly and cleared my throat delicately.

"Us?" I asked quietly as I dared to look at him once more. My heart hammered and there was a numb grind in my ears; as if everything was pressing into me, sucking me into a vacuum of nothingness.

"Yes. There is an us - and it's beautiful."