Together: Sequel To Alone

Chapter 7 |Kissing Together|

C h a p t e r 7

A/N: Quick note. Please either read the note at the beginning of the last chapter or at the end of this one. Thank you

As I finished with my explanations, which took all of an hour, Tobias stared at me blankly, his eyes devoid of emotion. He slowly rises to his feet, making the couch that we tested on shift. Several scenarios run through my mind. Number one: he's going to sweep me off the sofa and press my body to his and kiss me until my lips are numb and my common sense is basically nonexistent. Number two: He's going to angrily storm out the door and declare that he's finished with my stupidity.

He turns slowly towards me, his deep blue eyes meeting mine, and moves to bend down. But he stops before he gets near me, standing back to his full height and turning towards the door. He forces out a sharp breath, whipping back around to face me. His mouth opens like he is going to say something, but no noise disrupts she tranquil, and slightly awkward, silence.

Once more he turns himself towards the door, not hesitating this time to strut outside. Without a backwards glance, he closes the door, not slams it shut like someone mad with rage, but just pulls it closed. I almost wish he slammed it. That is one thing he's alway been good at, hiding his emotions. He could be ready to go on a murderous rampage, and I doubt I would be able to tell. But had he slammed the door, I would've know that he was angry. But he could simply be passive about the whole ordeal, about my lies and deception.

I should feel angry. Maybe I should feel sad or frustrated. I should feel something. But I don't. I sigh and rise from the couch, making my way across the lush carpet into the kitchen. My fingers trace across the white tile, my nails slipping into the indentions between the squares.

The mug clinks against the counter as it set it down, reaching after for a pot of coffee. The rich brown liquid drips into my cup, swirling and sloshing with each new drop added. Cream and sugar are pored in and mixed with a tea spoon before I resign myself to the counter. I rest my elbows on the cold surface, resting my head gingerly in my palms. Just before I can take a sip of my drink, a door opens. I'm so sure that it's either Caleb or Al, that I don't even bother to glance backwards.

But then a warm hand is wrapped around my elbow, effectively spinning me to face the man that stands behind me, so close behind me in fact, that all I can see of him are his dark blue eyes. His eyes, and the crinkles around them that are formed by laughter. Those lines are small though, small enough that I wouldn't be able to see them had I leaned away.

In hindsight, I should have leaned away. I should have shouted and reacted like someone who wasn't so ridiculously love struck, even after many years, that common sense wasn't exactly common. But I was, in fact, a love struck idiot, so I found myself glued in the same spot as the idiot who had so effectively captured my attention, as well as my heart, pressed his lips to mine.

The thing that bothered me most about the kiss wasn't the fact that it had been five years since the last one, well, since the last one I wanted. Because I wanted this. I wanted the air to be clear between us. I wanted us. It wasn't the fact that my hand was in my coffee behind me. It was, actually, the fact that there were sparks. No, actually sparks is an understatement. There were fireworks, not those crappy fountain ones, no. These were the big, fantastic, bottle rockets. These made me push myself off the counter and closer to him. These are what I felt before. These are what I want to feel for the rest of my life.

We were one person, our lips moving rapidly against each other. Though the kiss wasn't gentle, there was a softness to it that made me want to melt. I was aware of his large, calloused hands moving delicately across the fabric of my shirt. I was aware of the harsh breaths that shot from his mouth when he pulled away, far enough that I could see the ravenous glint in his eyes. I can't stress enough how much I love his eyes. Because they are so unique in the way that they shine. They're so brilliant, a rich blue speckled with grey. They're captivating, so captivating, that I can't look away from this beautiful person before me. I can't, that is, until an awkward cough from the doorway makes us jump apart.