Happiness is...

Walking into a room, seeing the person you were hoping (but not expecting) to run into, them looking up and noticing you right away. That little thrill of squee that lasts through the moment of eye contact as you smile... and fades into a general sense of well being, a warmth that moves through you... contentment.

Talking to friends, occasionally glancing around to see what he's up to, once or twice catching a smile.

Wandering over to talk to the person he's talking to, him getting up to leave and walking in my direction, stopping in front of me and just standing there for a moment. No words, no contact, nothing. Just standing, almost touching but not, just a bit of a smile, then he walks away and I laugh.

Watching him watch as I pace the edges of the crowd, looking for an excuse to stop near him... finally giving in and pulling up the chair beside, then taking an excuse to move to the floor at his feet.

A hand on my hair, petting, tracing the shape of an ear, brushing the hair out of the way to bare my neck, fingertips moving over the side of my throat and along the collar bone. Closing my eyes and leaning against his knee with a happy sigh.

Walking, talking, glancing around and noticing directions that could be taken if it were allowed to find someplace to play.

Later, when everyone opts for food, showing up to find an empty seat beside him. Uncertain, sitting at a table nearby instead, then standing and wandering between tables talking to people, pausing near him often... taking the opportunity to break a tense moment by touching and drawing him into the conversation.

Sitting beside him, angled so that my leg is touching his, warm contact... I know that sounds silly but its... dunno, just a thing, in its own way just as intimate as holding hands... one of those little things that just kills me.

Shifting so that I've got one leg crossed, knee resting on his thigh. His hand falling beneath the table onto my leg, a caress, then quickly back again as he smiles.

Looking over at him as he's looking at me, even if he says nothing when I ask 'what'... which leaves me alone with the turning gears in my own head