She sat in the library, seated alone at a table for four. She was distant from the other library visitors but with a good, wide view of the floor. She paged slowly through the medical book in front of her, lingering on the heart diagrams and their descriptive text. She slowly traced the outlines of the pictures with her finger, softly reciting the names of the components in a library-quiet whisper. The subject more than just facinated her; it excited her.
Her focus on the page began to blur as she slipped into day-dream of that long-ago day in the school yard. That Autumn day when she first learned of her interest and the unnatural influence she could have on others.
She remembered the boy she had a crush on and how she used to watch his football practice. She remembered being giddy with young girl fascination, watching him one late and cold afternoon. His breath puffed in frosty clouds as he zigged and zagged through the obstacle courses. For amusement, she tried breathing with him, watching for the bursts of fog from his helmet and matching them with her own exhales. It excited her a little and she covered her mouth with gloved hands as she let out an embarrassed laugh. A moment passed and she let herself try again. She matched the rhythm of his breaths with her own and quickly felt her heart speed up to match. She wondered if his heart was beating like her and if she could feel what he could feel.
The sound of her heart beating filled her mind as she concentrated on it while keeping her breaths in step with his. Suddenly the beating sound in her head changed; the rhythm was the same but the tone was different. The edges of her vision began to darken, as if looking through a telescope. Her sight became fixed on him. She could feel his heartbeat in the air, like the thud of a distant drum. She pulled the glove from one of her hands and stretched out her finger tips. She could feel his heart upon them. She so wanted to reach out across the field and touch it. She desired it so much that somehow, she did!
For an instant, she felt the weight of his heart in her hand. Startled, she grasped at the phantom heart. Immediately, the boy stumbled to the ground with his hands to his chest. She awoke from her trance, suddenly aware of the scene in front of her. Her romantic crush now steading himself on his knees as his coach and team mates rushed to help. He recovered, catching his breath as he walked off the field, his hand still pressed to his aching chest. She turned and left, walking briskly, her hands concealing the tears and fear that gripped her.
It took her a long while to comprehend what had happened that day. It took her longer before she tried it again. The fear of hurting someone made her cautious. But she couldn't stop thinking about the experience. It wasn't just exciting. It was arousing. It was additicive. Slowly, she learned how to do it without harm. She leared to stay calm and enjoy when the full sensation came to her fingertips. As she matured, so did the ease of her ability and its power. It's sensuality grew. She soon learned to use it as tool for her pleasure.
