Last (40)

Kiss of Death

13. Kiss of Death

It was rambunctious dream and it seemed it wasn’t just a dream; it was like going to happen. Not déjà vu. It was like you’ll go to say to yourself: this is going to happen and I can’t go wrong with this!

In that dream I wake up, exactly seven in the morning and smelling the fried eggs. Then suddenly I was in Ed’s house, and then we talked but I don’t know what we are talking about. In the middle of our conversation, he kissed me. My lips met his, I tasted his mouth. But that scene vanished, and we’re standing in the dark street. I guess it was The Meeting with Chip and his Hyenas. Then I cried, I didn’t know why I cry. There was blood, there was moaning and grunting and laughing.

I wake up sweating. It was a dream, I told myself. The digital clock on my table informed me that it’s seven in the morning. I smelled the fried egg.

“My dream,” I whispered to myself, and my heart started to beat heavily. Panting. Sweating.

I went to the kitchen and saw my mom smiling at me.

“Did you have a good sleep?”

“No, it was a nightmare.”

“I see, but don’t worry nightmare doesn’t happen in reality.” She smiled. I guess not.

“By the way, did you receive any letters from Ed?”

“No,” she stutters, “I did not.”

“When someone stutters, they probably lie,” I told her and smiled grabbing three pieces of sliced bread with peanut butter.

Silence.

I wonder why we always end our conversation with a long silence. Mom will never be a good communicator so as dad who always read newspaper and fix the unfixed things. I hurriedly finished my food and took a bath to visit Ed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked me when I visited him, “did Chip threaten you again? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Ed,” I said and chuckled. “Sorry about the house, it’s kind of messed up. I forgot to clean it. I can cook you some breakfast or maybe lunch. I---“

“You don’t need to worry. I’m full.”

“Okay,” he said and sighed putting his hands into the pockets of his worn-out jeans.

“About Chip’s threat, are you still going to…will you go there right? Er, are you not afraid?”

“This is the only way. I’ll finish this thing.”

“We will finish this thing.”

He smiled at me. I did not. I feared him. What Sam said and my dreams said it all: Edward will be in danger. I know Chip can do harm to him, he’s on drugs. Even though he’s sober he can create harm to him so as his friends. I can rust them no more. Even their looks were innocent, even if they’re friendly and outgoing, and even if they’re good deep inside still they are bad. Big bad wolves and I was the young Red Riding Hood.

“Meg are you alright?”

“Oh,” I gasped, “I’m just thinking of something.”

I’m just thinking about you…

“We’ll meet them okay? Whatever happens I’ll keep you safe and you’ll be safe if this thing will be over.”

“I’m afraid.”

He gazed at me. Our eyes met. I was not looking at Ed anymore; instead I was feeling what I felt. The emotion that led me to somewhere that made me feels that there’s a butterfly on my stomach and my heart throbs. The feeling was unbearable that shook my body trying to let it out. Edward’s eye was gorgeous; everything about him is undeniably gorgeous. His ways and his wits.

We moved closer and close, our heads were like magnetized by the same polarity. I could tell that my heart beats together with his even though I couldn’t see it. The gravity made us stood with slow cautious movements of the muscles of our neck. I closed my eyes waiting for the thing that I waited for so long. He kissed me, and I kissed him. Our lips met. There was the surge of love from the place of somewhere. There were fireworks, colorful fireworks behind my eyelids. I wanted to close my eyes forever.

“Meg,” he whispered in the middle of our moment.

“Ed, I---“

I was cut by his kiss not by his words. I moved my hands at the back of his neck and his hands on my waist. We were frenzied and I could tell that the kiss of him was his first, it has flaws. An imperfect kiss. But then, it was the perfect day of my life and his life. He chuckled and his face was red.

“First time,” he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“So where were we?”

“Here,” I whispered and kissed him again.

Chest to chest, I felt his warmth.

“I love you, Meg,” he said, seeing his red lips, “I loved you since I met you, I loved you before you birthday, I loved you before I’ve said this words to you.”

My mouth struggled to reply back. There was the fear that hinders me to say but then I felt free.

“I love you,” I told him.

“I love you,” I repeated.

He kissed me and I could see the feast and celebration from his heart that was shown on his beautiful face.