Katharine and László are sitting together in the car, seemingly alone in the world, far away from anyone else.
Katharine trails her fingers along the glass window, as the wind howls outside.
“Let me tell you about winds.” László says.
As he continues to talk, with his right arm resting behind her head, she occasionally turns towards him, without making eye contact. She smiles, and turns back to look out of the window.
She raises her hand towards her forehead, resting it gently beside her golden hair. Still smiling, she turns her head towards him again.
László gently raises his arm at the elbow, and delicately trails his fingers along the side of her golden hair, ever so carefully sweeping it back above her ear. Slowly she lowers her hand, and her smile fades.
Katharine’s breathing becomes deeper. László has never touched her before, and her heart is beating faster and faster by the second.
She raises her arm, and once more she trails her finger along the window as he strokes her hair; his fingers barley touching her.
(Inspired by The English Patient, 1996)
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