Tales of Em Elisse.

Here it was again. That nagging feeling. That tug at my heart.

Em sat at her window seat, staring out the dewy pane of the AmTrak, thinking about the past 24 hours.

Laughter. Being held so close in those arms, but what was it that kept her back? What kept making her feel this way other than her own defenses and walls, that no matter how many times she lets them down for a crack, they come shooting back up by the slightest mishap.

She could tell she'd been quiet way too long after their talk.

He was sitting right beside her, still gripping her right hand as if he was her only anchor. The feeling of his warm fingers on hers, the faint throb of his increased heart rate, all signs pointed to the inevitable.

Not wanting to hear it, she decides to stay mute. Defiant is her face, and her stomach is grumbling in protest, but there was no way she would give up her stance now.