C33 Thirty-three

Our glasses clink, I take a sip, stare at him for a while and drop the flute to the table. He empties his glass in one gulp, refills it and tilts it in my direction before finishing half its content at once. I snatch his glass, set it to the table and switch to a straddling position. Hooking a finger under his jaw, I bite my lip, unable to identify the intense emotion in his eyes