I blushed (yes we can blush) and...
Suddenly a gunshot rang out in the woods. We both ducked instinctively; his arms flung out as he moved to the ground, and I flet his hand swipe through my chest. I was definitely bummed. I hoped--I longed--for him to really touch me, but instead it was just like the others: they could pass right through. Not only that, but some idiot with a gun disturbed what seemed like a promising moment.
"What the...?" I heard him mutter, and he looked around frantically. He pulled out his own gun.
"Why do you have a--" I began.
"Sorry, beautiful, but it looks like someone's after me. We'll have to run." And he reached to grab my hand, but realized he couldn't. He stared wide-eyed at me and I blushed again, but more out of embarrassment. Being dead was certainly a stab to one's love life.