ALL THE WORDS WE COULDN'T SAY

S E V E N T E E N

Had I heard her correctly? Or was this just another fever dream? The fact that I'd gotten the courage to kneel before Persy should've been enough to classify this as a fever dream. But I couldn't help it. It was as if the deep, subconscious part of my brain had taken over my body, bending my limbs to its hidden desire.

Kiss me.

She said kiss me.

Was it a trap?

She registered my silence and told me to get up. I did.

"I wish I was in full control of my body but unfortunately, I'm not. Even after what you did, I think there may be remnants of the feelings I had for you. So I need you to kiss me to make sure that what I feel is just purely biological. Nothing more." her voice was robotic, like a receptionist answering a call. Yet, it was an honest explanation. I admired her more, even though I didn't think I could ever admire her more, for speaking the truth to someone she didn't trust.

"Are you sure?" I asked her, but also asked myself. Yes, of course, I wanted to kiss her. But it wasn't just a kiss. It was a test. An experiment.

"For fuck's sake, Killian! Just do it," she demanded. And once Persy Leos ordered me to do something, I was powerless to refuse. If she were to tell me to jump, my only answer would be 'how high?'.

I stepped forward. Do I reach for her neck like I used to? Or was this supposed to be a lips-only contact sort of thing?

Shit, I had gotten much taller than I expected. My height was never a concern for me, even during the times when I'd be with Persy in Marlow. I remembered how obviously short I was compared to her. But what the fuck did I expect? She was a ballerina. Praying mantis-like limbs and all. For every kiss that we shared, I had to crane my neck up to reach her lips. And yet, I wasn't ashamed. Like my desire for her touch superseded my need to be masculine. Plus, she never made me feel short. She made me feel like the tallest, wealthiest, happiest boy that ever lived. But the last time we kissed, I didn't need to crane my neck up because...

we were in my bed.

Her eyes braced for contact. I was sure mine did too. I tried to fight the panic rising in my stomach as questions bombarded my mind. What would happen after? What if she still had feelings for me? What would happen?

To push out the crackling panic, I quickly cupped her face and brought it towards mine.

While the panic may have dissipated, the crackling didn't stop. It merely intensified.

I was kissing Persy Leos. The pounding realisation should have made me pull away, but if anything, it just made me push closer. I had fucked up. Truly fucked up in Marlow. I had ruined the only genuine friendship I had and for what? Just some approval of a bunch of kids I didn't give a shit about and couldn't even remember the names of now?

And my father.

Fuck him.

Persy's hands flew to my forearms which were still holding each side of her face. For a moment, I thought she wanted to pull them away, but her thumbs began to stroke my skin. Her touch was electric. It was hot and cold and sharp and soft all at the same time. I was pulled back to the time of our first kiss and indulged in the sweet, shocking newness of it. How incomparable it was to anything else.

And her lips...

Sweet cherry and ecstasy. A hint of tobacco. Like diving into a soft, pillowy cloud.

I could feel the lust igniting as our tongues connected. But with it came something even heavier. It was like I had ventured into the pits of her soul and felt only a fraction of the pain she felt. A sort of weird voodoo moment where the shards of her broken heart slashed against my ribs.