Language of Your Beating Heart

He just could not sit still today and people were noticing it.
This was the third time in an hour he had walked away from his desk.
The pins and needles along his spine and scalp were making him jittery and he found it was also making him pretty damn irritable. He had snapped at more than one person who asked him what his problem was.
One person he said it was them as he stalked off.
What the hell was his damn problem.
He sighed as he stood in the bathroom staring at himself in the mirror.
Sliding one hand through his hair he froze as a thought hit him.
It was premonition.
It had to be that.
A knowing that was crawling over his skin, making him pay attention.

He flew back to his desk and packed up. He was leaving. Something was happening right now and he knew in his heart it was her.
He almost ran out the door of the building but he kept his pace fast as he headed across the parking lot to his truck. He glanced to where she usually was but he saw no car there and his heart pounded and not a small amount of disappointment filled him.
Damn he hoped he could have at least saw her. He loved looking at her. Loved remembering.

He reached his truck and froze as his eyes fell to the scrap of paper tucked in the door handle.
Looking around again he saw no one and then plucked the note from the door.
He unrolled it and the words jumped out into his heart and mind.

My fears are plenty but I have only ever had one dream -
That I will learn the precise language of your beating heart
and to find the perfect way to mingle these words and letters together
so that they may become stars to shine the most breathtaking
light upon your silent face.

He stood there, reading the note over and over again, his heart pounding in his chest.
It was from her he knew that and he knew that his woman, this wonderful, darkly romantic woman had his heart but he could not give it to her freely. No, he kept it from her. A secret.
It was his fondest desire to kiss her lips once again but the situation was something he could not handle.
He read the note one last time, a small crooked smile appeared at her choice of words, silent face. His smile faded and he stood silent staring at the words she wrote.

He hung his head a moment feeling the pain of loss within.
Then with a deep breath, he folded the note carefully and placed it within his wallet to keep forever more.
Maybe someday the situation would change and then he would teach her the language of his heart himself.