Silverfish

Hey Jealousy - Jia

I pull at my mauve wool coat, shoving my hands into its pockets. It was colder than I had expected it to be, despite the warm afternoon sun raining down upon the forest floor around us.

After a few painful minutes of silence I begin to wonder why I had followed Teddy out here. I was clinging to the desperate possibility that he would admit something sweet to me, but perhaps that was completely out of the question. I still was not entirely sure that he even liked me in the first place–there would be times where I would truly believe it, but then of course he would also ignore me for days, only subtly suggesting that he preferred my company.

I'm not sure why exactly I'm so invested in him already. He was nothing like Jack, at all. He did not constantly seek my attention or presence nor did he receive it very well. This type of intrigue was so foreign, and I was a bit afraid of what it may do to me. I could not have another distraction away from my studies, my career, my future. Although, a part of me could not help but wonder if he was apart of my future.

It's much too soon to tell.

I step on a birch twig and it snaps beneath me, causing Teddy to stop and turn to meet my gaze.

"Sorry," I say, for some reason feeling the need to apologize for interrupting the tranquility of the forest.

His face twitches upwards slightly, "It's okay."

He brushes a strand of copper hair out of his eyes before slowly stepping closer to me.

I remain stagnant–a bit bemused by his actions–with the anticipation of a moment tearing away at my self control. I wanted so badly to for something to happen, his lips slightly parted, freckled with a delicate, burning pink.

"Not to be...intrusive, I guess...but can I kiss you?" He asks suddenly, the chagrin flushed against his cheeks.

I offer him a small smile before nodding, stepping to meet his arms.

He grabs my hand before slowly pressing his lips to mine, easing into what felt like something so natural, preceded. I pulled my hand away from his and began to run my fingers through his curls, pressing myself into him with each movement.

He pulls away briefly, looking at me with a sort of adoration I had not seen from him before. Perhaps this was the key to feeling closer to him–to connect through the physicality.

I brush my hand across his tinted cheeks softly, staring back at him with the same sort of mirrored intensity. I wanted so desperately to know what he was thinking, what he thought of me. I needed that much from him, just some sort of verbal confirmation so I don't completely fall into my own self-doubt.

"What?" He asks, cocking his head to the side.

I shrug simply, not wishing to confess my feelings to him just yet, "Oh, nothing. You're a good kisser."

He smirks, "Thanks–so are you."

He pulls me into him again, beaming into the kiss with a strange sort of ebullience. I didn't mind, of course, but something felt transient about his shift from uninspired to completely fervent. Perhaps I was afraid that he would pull away again, reserving all of his affections for the physical aspect of our connection.

❧