Placing my lips on his is not enough...
Running my fingers through his hair...
Inhaling his-
"I'm sorry," He says, ripping his body from my grasp...
I feel empty even though he was never a part of me...
"I didn't mean to-" he begins.
Flustered.
His cheeks are all flushed.
His breathing is laboured.
No longer the teacher who stood at the front of the classroom...
But the man who caused me to lick my swollen lips in an attempt to cool them.
Down.
He looks at me.
As if to telepathically getting me to comprehend what he was trying to tell me.
I remain calm...
a small smile forming on my otherwise angelic face.
He said he didn't mean it..
But the fact remains...
He still did it
YOU ARE READING
Impending Heat
Teen Fiction“That’s maybe why he did it,” taking a red marker pen he circles a number on a print out, “Maybe he wanted the forbidden…fresh…fruit.”
