Make it last

We've been walking about for the past hour, or so, and decide to take a little break and find a side street to sit down. It takes us a while to find a spot, but when we do, it's ideal - the driveway between the Radio City complex.

There's a lot of silent moments between us. Good ones. After 10 minutes, I notice S is fixated on the illuminated light boxes which act as art-cum-seating in the area.

"What are you looking at?" I ask, quizzically.

"They remind me of a fire." S grins and looks away, shyly.

There's another moment of silence which leads into something else. A G-rated moment becomes PG-13. Nothing else is heard or noticed around us. People walk around us and we don't care; we're clearly too busy with each other.

Then out of the blue, we hear something that is a mood breaker.

"Make it last. Make. It. Last." A (possibly drunk) woman leaving the Radio City towers says this loud enough to ruin our concentration. F and I pull away from one another and begin to giggle.

"Ok, that ruined the moment," says S.

"I thought I could block anything out, but I couldn't block that."

Not long after her words of dissent, we look at each other and carry on where we left off for another period of undetermined length. When it's time to come up for air, we decide to make it last somewhere else until 3 a.m.