3rd Person
Kirstie woke up to a warm, hairy body next to her's. Regret began to swell into her chest, until she realized this was Avi. Perfect, chiseled, hot Avi. She attempted to roll out of bed: she could at least make her house guest some good breakfast. She felt two large, hot hands slide onto either side of her waist, pulling her in closer.
"Avi," she groaned, "I want to make you breakfast!"
"Well too bad," Avi pulled her closer and kissed her hair. "I wanna spend time with you."
"But I need to make you-"
Avi cut her off with a kiss. Kirstie could do nothing but melt into him, feel his pulse against him. Kissing was supposed to be fervent, every detail creating an opposite indent into the other, not like this. This kissing is melted, not lazy, but blurred together. Every movement against each other isn't forced, or even a movement they choose. It's their reflex, the way kissing was engrained into their DNA. All she could do was enjoy feeling of her thoughts being muddled together, enjoying herself losing all the thoughts she would try to catch, feeling them drift away. Avi pulled away gently and kissed her forehead.
They talked all morning, all afternoon, all evening. Kirstie felt pinpricks behind her eyes when he left. And that sure wasn't the last time she saw him.
A/N
I suck.
Sorry I haven't updated in years.
Long story, but not worth telling.
Anyways, take my first of many updates and be Merry.
Ratchetpentaholic
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