Leaving Me Behind
Meeting Sebastian Noé Balle
"With an urge to kill the intensity of his stare I blurt out, “Um, hey. We meet . . . once more. Um, what was your name again?”
He inches to stand, towering above me. The light becomes weaker as it hides behind his wide frame. Eyes so deep into mine, I can nearly feel their weight.
“I never told you my name,” he says in a low, hoarse voice. He grins next, and I want to die. The small, wicked twitch still adorns his lips as I gape at him, mortified. The look in his eyes makes me think of his head moving between my legs and I consider dialing the fire department to put out the flames covering my face. He easily takes the last step to stand beside me. Almost popping the bubble of restless vibe that is my personal space. He extends his hand, takes my dazed one in his, and covers it with his other. Holding my palm between his, he dips his chin to captivate my eyes.
Misty silence lining with a soft sound of easy waves and the sporadic hum of the light blinking over the porch surrounds us before he breaks the stillness.
“It’s Sebastian Noé Balle,” he answers my question. Low voice with an edge of husk covered by a mouth-watering Spanish lilt that reverberates all the way through me. “My friends call me Seb. My family calls me Tian.” His hold of my hand becomes more palpable. “You can call me whatever you want as long as you’ll let me touch you again.” "