Drunk on a daydream

He stood so close and yet so far off that she could barely hear him when he speaks. His words fly towards her like a gentle breeze, blocked only by air. She glanced at him now and them, her focus on his smooth skin and his grey blue eyes. People passed between them but she didn't seem to noticed.

As he droned on about his ill-mannered co-worker, she caressed the thought of his ruby lips on hers. She pouted her lips together as if in anticipation but then even them out. His voice kept on, barely stopping to breathe.

More people brushed passed between them and the inches between them stretched farther and farther as he continued to take a step back each time. The train swayed back and forth as if luring her into his arms. Her focus stayed on his face, a smile on her dry lips.

Soon his words was too far away, she can barely distinguished whether he what he was saying. A sudden drop in altitude sent her crawling on the train floor. He helped her up, walked passed her and out the train, his arm around a tall woman. Her lips turned downward, disappointment written all over her face.

She stared at his back as the train door closed, cutting her daydream in half. If only he was talking to her.

Fiction Friday: Drunk on _________. Fill in the blank, then write a quick description of your character in that state.