A drabble for Dia's Birthday:

[skywaterblue]

His hand pressed against her back in a crowded room. They stand in back, against a wall; no one can see his fingers slipping up her jacket. Under her blouse. Tracing her spine.

They've been together for months; he's never touched her in public. Not like this. Her lips part, taking in air, hair sticking to her lipgloss. Just then, the President finishes speaking. His hand abruptly leaves her skin to applaud.

Donna pulls the hair from her lips, looking at Josh. She raises her eyebrow. He cocks his head.

Well, maybe there are still more things left to learn.