𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘕𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵

☾ 𝕾𝖎𝖝 ☽

𝙁𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙭

Her lips are as soft as they were when I first kissed them in middle school. They haven't changed. She hasn't changed. And I love that. I love her.

I don't understand why she believed I loved Adriana all these years; much less desired her kiss. It was Francine who I wanted, and I still do. I want her more than ever. I want her to stay with me forever and continue kissing me like this for the years to come.

It wasn't a simple crush. I had completely fallen, collapsed, sunk all the way down to the bottom of the ocean. She was absolutely stunning. Her blue eyes were almost white, but they weren't, they were an icy blue that shimmered brightly against the rays of sun beaming through the glass doors of the school.

She didn't notice me, though. It was Adriana who did. Adriana was the one who was after me, not her. That saddened me because France was the one I wanted the attention from, not Adriana.

I tried avoiding her at all costs, but she was persistent, and I didn't want to come off as rude when rejecting her. I didn't even feel like rejected her because there wasn't anything going between us in the first place. It seemed idiotic. Idiotic that I was allowing her to continue pursuing me and idiotic that I didn't have the guts to oppress her feelings. So I did an even more idiotic thing by saying I liked her back and planned to kiss her one night—now, here me out. My plan was to go to her house and delicately state that I wasn't into her like that, but I didn't even get to use that plan because it wasn't even Adriana at her house that night who received me. It was Francine. Despite the astonishment I was in, I didn't do anything to stop her from latching her lips onto mine and completely take over me. I wasn't even disappointed at all, on the contrary, I was overjoyed. Overjoyed because instead of rejecting the girl who had been bugging me non-stop in the span of three months, I was kissing the girl who I loved the most in the entire world.

That's exactly how I'm feeling now that I'm kissing her again. Feeling her lips brush against mine like feathers, her tongue delicately caress mine, and her hands squeeze the nape of my neck as I lift her into my arms. She fits perfectly against me. Her curves connect with mine like a puzzle piece, and that makes my heart throb, and my stomach knot in anticipation.

I'm out of breath, but I don't want to pull back for air. Instead, I want to swallow hers that is grazing my lower lip every so often like the vapor steaming off of a loaf of fresh bread out of the oven.

Suddenly, I lose balance. I'm becoming light-headed with the intense wave of emotions that has drowned my entire system and made it stop because of the malfunction in contact with the water. I want to sit down, or preferably, lie down. Lying down sounds nice. I want to lie down with Francine, so I begin carrying myself across the floor in slow steps to prevent causing a disaster in the dark. Once I feel the familiar cool temperature of the wall in the hallway leading to my bedroom, I quicken my speed while feeling the wall next to me. When my hand comes in contact with the knoc furthest day the hall, I twist it and swing the door open wide enough for me to carry Francine in with ease.

Striding toward the bed, I loosen my grip on her thighs and gingerly lower her onto the mattress. 

I withdraw from her briefly to unlatch the button of her jeans and strip her out of them, along with her large t-shirt that weighs on her like a feather. After launching the clothing behind me, I look down at her silky red bra, contrasting her pale skin flawlessly. I kind of don't want to take it off, but I also want to know what she looks without it. Giving her look while grazing my fingers across her stomach and up to the coast of the material of her bra, she swallows rapidly and leisurely rises to her elbows to unclasp the article. The straps loosen around her shoulders and instantly glide down her skin and stop their process of motion as soon as they meet the floor behind me when she carelessly discards her bra.