He threw a glance at me. "You still have flour on your face." He mumbled.
"Where?" I asked, sitting up. My hand went to my face, searching.
Nathan walked towards me, his hands reaching out to hold my face, his thumb brushing my left cheek.
I heard my sharp intake of breath.
His eyes dropped to my lips, then back to my eyes.
Kiss me, I thought.
It was as if he heard me.
His head dipped down, crashing his lips to mine.
YOU ARE READING
Chocolate Ice Cream
Short StoryTara Flynn believes that the only way to heal a broken heart is by locking herself in her room, and eating tons of chocolate ice cream. Nathaniel Adam disagrees.
