✧ ˚ ·ᵀʰᵉ ʷᵃʳᵐ ᶜᵃʳᵉˢˢ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡⁱᵖˢ.

ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʀᴍ ᴄᴀʀᴇꜱꜱ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴘꜱ.

          My breath hitches as I study my reflection. The person staring back absently seems familiar yet so unknown, a stranger conducting my own skin. My eyes feel heavy and my stomach feels like it's twisted into knots. Why am I so nervous?   I skim over the western hat as it lay by the sink, tapping my finger hastily. We had hung out countless times before. It doesn't make sense–the usual hangout between him and I wouldn't affect me. But this time was different. Why? Why now? Both my thoughts and emotions swirl together uncontrollably like a tempest. I groan, dragging my hands downward across my face. In an alien, puzzling way, it was thrilling–a fresh feeling, an unexplored territory. It was as if my soul was reaching, yearning out for something.

          A sudden cold crept up my spine and into my mouth and behind my teeth. Shivering. What is that something?

          My face grows hot and I gulp the air. Gripping firmly on the sink's edge, I blink, thinking and bite my lower lip. My nails dig into my palms severely, as an image appears in my mind: that same, close being with a brightening laugh weaving his fingers through mine. Together, cheeks flushed.

         The sudden vibration of my phone causes me to jolt. I shake my head, a faint crimson meeting my face. I'm just going over to his house. Nothing more.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

         Departing from the driver's seat and onto the concrete, the pleasant, tender breeze envelops around my body almost instantly like a gentle embrace. The sun's beams dance on my skin, emitting a golden glow beneath my feet. The hum of the wind mingles through the trees, with the distant buzz of city life. Sighing, I can't help but peer at the familiar silhouette of a building. "Yer gonn' kill me today." I whisper, the ends of my lips faintly curving.

        The wood under foot slightly chimes with each step, as I bring a finger to linger in front of the doorbell only to halt. I can't move my hand. I lower my head and swallow a sigh. I hate this. I hate how I'm so nervous. Grunting, I advance my hand to the brim of my hat; my fingertips caressing the fabric afore returning to the doorbell and forcing my thumb against it. It rang with a buzz, and after a few moments, the sound of hurried and hesitant footsteps echo behind the door. The shuffling became awfully fainter as time passed, and–commencing from silence–the door opens.

        I grin, a petite smile tugging at my lips. "Hey, Max." He brightens, his eyes twinkling with gratitude. "Hey, Nug." His eyes unites with mine, whilst we watch each other in a comfortable quietness. On spur of the moment, as if he just suddenly realizes what we are doing, jerks and coughs, mumbling if I want to come inside. I laugh, approving with a simple nod, a red hue painting my face.

       "So.. What do you wanna do?"

        Max would ask, blood pooling in his forehead as he lie backward on the couch, his head atop the floor. I observe him, as he fidgets with the edging of his sweater. My eyes widen. Didn't something like this already happen? I brush it off and reply, "I'm not sure." Max glances at me for a second, seemingly thinking, and focuses back onto the flooring and bites his lip. I hum, touring the room with my eyes, often landing on the many shelves with one or two frames of Max and his family to the dust-covered cabinets. The cozy, vague scent of wax hangs under my nose, with a mix of coffee from the presence of the coffee maker in the kitchen. "We can play games, like, video games." Max blurts and reaches under the couch, revealing a magic marker. He pops off the lid and starts sketching on his nails, smiling.  "I think have a couple of them in my console."