You | Teen Ink

You

June 30, 2020
By Anonymous

My heart is pounding. Faster, faster. What if I… No, he would step back or look away. I mean, what are the chances he's dying to kiss me too? I am suddenly aware, his feet have moved closer to me. A hand, his hand, reaches under my chin and directs it up until I am staring right into his green eyes. God, I could get lost looking in them if he'd let me. I know I must look terrified. Why else would he be smirking? I blink, unable to hold his gaze any longer, and that's when it happens.


  Surprise and pleasure surge through my veins lighting every nerve until I am ablaze. His kiss is desperate and scared. Like a child forced to put down their favorite video game but they have get in just one more level. This is soft, and sweet. A delicate first.


When I gasp, my eyes widen in fear. No! It was too soon. He is backing away. I don't need this much air! My hands find his hair and I pull his lips back down to mine with a starved force. When I am sure, absolutely sure, that he won't leave again, I let my hands explore. His neck, his biceps, his chest. Each breath he takes makes me want more.


This time, I am the child. Trying to make the most of this round, this play, this battle; before I am torn away. His lips nudge mine apart, opening the door for his tongue. It's war when my tongue meets his. We play and I soak in his taste. His flavor. His breath. With a moan I notice his hands have been busy too. One plays with my bra clasp as the other weaves through my soft curls, holding me close. An eternity of this bliss would never be enough. Not for me. 


"No," I whisper as his mouth pulls from mine. Now on our knees, my empty kitchen rises up around us. 


"Wait" he mutters when I straighten up to grasp his face. I feel like a sad puppy being told that I cannot have any more treats. "What are we doing?" He could not have crushed my confidence any harder.


"Kissing? I mean I am no expert but that's what I thought it was." A small laugh breaks through his lips and my confidence is restored. 


"No, I mean… well, we haven't had more than maybe 3 conversations and all the sudden we are thrown into a chem project together. Trust me this isn't what I had in mind when I thought chemistry project." Oh no.


"If this is too much or soon or if you are into someone else or anything I can go away and forget this ever happened. If that's what you want." My heart cracks at the words but when I try to get up he stops me.


"No, that's not what I want at all. In fact, I want you. That's all I have been able to want since I met you. But I feel like I hardly know you Sam. And I hate that." I feel like I have been shot through with an arrow. Cupid's arrow. And I must look it too because his sincere look turns to one of concern. 


"I… you… what?" This makes his devilish smirk return and I know I can't let him have the satisfaction of rendering me speechless. “No, I mean I don’t understand. You went on a date with Jess, you guys seemed happy? What happened?”


“Jess is a lot of things, but not my type.” Sweet and simple. Absolutely not what I wanted him to say.


“Then what is your type?” I feel defensive and in a way, afraid of what he is going to say


“You.”


The author's comments:

This is a small part of a larger peice I am writing. I am just kind of using this as a way to kick off my account. I really love writing and am always open to constructive criticism!


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