Basorexia - J.MAGUIRE

[2.45] him

After therapy, Ciara found herself in Michelle's kitchen. They had a plan for an evening hang out in front of the tv with various snacks whilst watching rom coms. She sat within the silence and drank a cup of tea, waiting for Michelle to return home from wherever she had gotten to. Chelle wasn't as reliable and punctual as her cousin but she didn't mind the wait - in fact it gave her time to decompress and get a hold of her thoughts.

"Jesus!" James' abrupt exclamation bought her out of her thoughts suddenly, her head snapped towards where he stood with a hand over his heart. "I didn't hear you come in."

"Chelle left the back door open cause it's raining and I didn't want to wait for her to get in," she laughed softly, giving him an apologetic look as he drifted towards the kettle. She watched as he put more water into it and turnt it on, not bothering to get a mug from the cupboard. Instead he turnt and leant on the counter, sighing softly. "Everything okay?" she wondered aloud. Ciara found it rather easy to read him now and she could tell something was going on, she could see it in the way he held his shoulders.

He nodded then forked a hand through his absolutely ruined curls, "Yeah, I just had one of those dreams that like, change your entire view of a situation."

"Oh?"

She watched as he hesitated, fighting an internal battle within himself, "It wasn't something I hadn't already known for a long time but I mean..." he sighed deeply as he trailed off, taking a moment to clear his throat. "Just shed some light."

"What was it about?" she asked with a soft laugh, walking across the kitchen to dispose of her now cold tea in the sink next to where he stood.

He sighed, this time softer than before, and divulged, "Me..." he paused, brief anger at himself flooding through his eyes before he stammered. "You, shit! I- You."

The kettle, near ready to be poured, started to spew steam and the sound filled the silence that enveloped them both. He watched, intense nerves flipping his stomach like a washing machine does clothes, as she set the now empty mug in the sink. She turned, brow greatly furrowed as she whispered, "Me? I don't understand..."

He stammered and took a deep steadying breath, wanting to get this as right as he possibly could. "Look I don't expect you to say anything or do anything and this is not how I wanted to do this. I wanted to do it in a better way, like for dinner or something but then I thought that would make you uncomfortable and I didn't want to do that...But well maybe, on the day that I was going to leave I thought that there was something for a moment and... I just want you to know that I think you're beautiful. And not just in the conventionally attractive way, like you have a beautiful soul kind...of...way..."

Words could not describe the way she felt. Such an incredible compliment, one of pure fiction, had been given to her by someone who was very much real and stood directly in front of her. "J I-"

He cut her mutterings off, unable to find the purely overwhelming desire to indulge the thoughts he had about kissing her. The thoughts that stemmed from every part of his brain and set the surface of his skin on fire. She, stunned, pulled back for just a second. She looked him up and down, momentarily searching his eyes for the usual tellings of emotion. She smiled softly upon figuring out how he felt and this time closed the gap herself, in a much more gentle way than he initially had.

A first kiss can be a funny thing when with the wrong person: it feels awkward, your noses clash together, things just feel clumsy. But this, this was something different entirely. There was no clash of noses, no awkward feeling. That awkward feeling was replaced by one of pure passion and the two felt it in their stomachs as they moved their lips together in perfect synchrony. Her fingertips trailed his jaw as he pulled her even closer by her waist, it was almost urgent and both knew they would crave that feeling over and over even after the sun went down. A kiss with such a feeling would never be forgotten. It felt as if it could last forever and neither would get sick of it for a moment.