order to ensure she never runs out.
I stand up and walk to the bed. Her eyes follow me closely until I’m directly in front of her. “Stand up.”
She stands slowly.
I weave both hands through the locks of her hair until I’m holding the back of her head. I stare at her until my heart can’t take anymore, then I press my lips to hers. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve kissed her over the past day. Every time I kiss her, the feeling I get is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. The closest I’ve ever come to feeling this way is the day I was pretending to be in love with the girl in the closet. But even that day, the day I thought would surpass every day after it, doesn’t come close to this.
Her mouth is warm and inviting and everything it always is when I kiss her, but it’s also so much more. The fact that I have this reaction to her after one day scares the living shit out of me.
One day.
I’ve been doing this with her for one day and I have no idea what’s happening. I don’t know if it’s a full moon or if I have a tumor wrapped around my heart or if she really is a witch. Whatever it is still doesn’t explain how this kind of thing can exist between two people this ridiculously fast . . . and actually last.
I feel like deep down my heart knows she’s too good to be true. My mind and my whole body know she’s too good to be true, so I kiss her harder, hoping to convince myself that this is real. It’s not some fairy tale. It’s not an hour of make-believe.
This is reality, but even in our imperfect reality, people don’t fall for each other like this. They don’t develop feelings like this for someone they barely know.
The only thing my entire thought process is proving to me right now is how much I need to grab her tight and hang on, because wherever she goes, I want to go, too. And right now, she’s going backward, down onto the bed. I’m easing myself on top of her in the same way I just told her this would happen. And we’re kissing, just like I said we would, only this time it may just be a little more frantic and needy and holy shit.
Her skin.
It really is the softest skin I’ve ever touched.
I move my hand from her waist and inch my fingers underneath the hem of her shirt, then slowly begin to work my way to her stomach.
She pushes my hand away.
“Daniel.”
She immediately lifts up and I immediately lift off her. She’s breathing so heavily I catch myself holding my own breath, scared I’m hogging too much of her air.
She looks both regretful and embarrassed that she suddenly asked me to stop. I lift my hand and stroke her cheek reassuringly.
My eyes scroll over her features, taking in her nervous demeanor. She’s afraid of what might happen between us. I can see on her face and in the way she’s looking at me that she’s just as scared as I am. Whatever this is between us, neither one of us was searching for it. Neither one of us knew it even existed. Neither one of us is even remotely prepared for it, but I know we both want it. She wants this to work with me as much as I want it to work with her and seeing the look in her eyes right now makes me believe that it will. I’ve never believed in anything like I believe in the possibility of the two of us.
I can tell by the way she’s looking at me that if I tried to kiss her again, she’d let me. It’s almost as if she’s torn between the girl she used to be and the girl she is now and she’s afraid if I try to kiss her again, she’ll cave.
And I’m afraid if I don’t get up and walk away, I’ll let her.
We don’t even have to speak. She doesn’t even have to ask me to leave, because I know that’s what I need to do. I nod, silently answering the question I don’t want her to have to ask. I begin to ease off her bed and a silent thank you flashes in her eyes. I stand up, back away from her and climb out her window without a word. I walk a few feet until I reach the edge of her house, then I
I stand up and walk to the bed. Her eyes follow me closely until I’m directly in front of her. “Stand up.”
She stands slowly.
I weave both hands through the locks of her hair until I’m holding the back of her head. I stare at her until my heart can’t take anymore, then I press my lips to hers. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve kissed her over the past day. Every time I kiss her, the feeling I get is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. The closest I’ve ever come to feeling this way is the day I was pretending to be in love with the girl in the closet. But even that day, the day I thought would surpass every day after it, doesn’t come close to this.
Her mouth is warm and inviting and everything it always is when I kiss her, but it’s also so much more. The fact that I have this reaction to her after one day scares the living shit out of me.
One day.
I’ve been doing this with her for one day and I have no idea what’s happening. I don’t know if it’s a full moon or if I have a tumor wrapped around my heart or if she really is a witch. Whatever it is still doesn’t explain how this kind of thing can exist between two people this ridiculously fast . . . and actually last.
I feel like deep down my heart knows she’s too good to be true. My mind and my whole body know she’s too good to be true, so I kiss her harder, hoping to convince myself that this is real. It’s not some fairy tale. It’s not an hour of make-believe.
This is reality, but even in our imperfect reality, people don’t fall for each other like this. They don’t develop feelings like this for someone they barely know.
The only thing my entire thought process is proving to me right now is how much I need to grab her tight and hang on, because wherever she goes, I want to go, too. And right now, she’s going backward, down onto the bed. I’m easing myself on top of her in the same way I just told her this would happen. And we’re kissing, just like I said we would, only this time it may just be a little more frantic and needy and holy shit.
Her skin.
It really is the softest skin I’ve ever touched.
I move my hand from her waist and inch my fingers underneath the hem of her shirt, then slowly begin to work my way to her stomach.
She pushes my hand away.
“Daniel.”
She immediately lifts up and I immediately lift off her. She’s breathing so heavily I catch myself holding my own breath, scared I’m hogging too much of her air.
She looks both regretful and embarrassed that she suddenly asked me to stop. I lift my hand and stroke her cheek reassuringly.
My eyes scroll over her features, taking in her nervous demeanor. She’s afraid of what might happen between us. I can see on her face and in the way she’s looking at me that she’s just as scared as I am. Whatever this is between us, neither one of us was searching for it. Neither one of us knew it even existed. Neither one of us is even remotely prepared for it, but I know we both want it. She wants this to work with me as much as I want it to work with her and seeing the look in her eyes right now makes me believe that it will. I’ve never believed in anything like I believe in the possibility of the two of us.
I can tell by the way she’s looking at me that if I tried to kiss her again, she’d let me. It’s almost as if she’s torn between the girl she used to be and the girl she is now and she’s afraid if I try to kiss her again, she’ll cave.
And I’m afraid if I don’t get up and walk away, I’ll let her.
We don’t even have to speak. She doesn’t even have to ask me to leave, because I know that’s what I need to do. I nod, silently answering the question I don’t want her to have to ask. I begin to ease off her bed and a silent thank you flashes in her eyes. I stand up, back away from her and climb out her window without a word. I walk a few feet until I reach the edge of her house, then I
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