Staying Single #JustWriteIt #SuperCharged

III: Work On That Tongue, Okay?

Hello there (if anybody is here, that is) - here is part 2. If you're reading please comment. It's like I'm writing for ghosts. Thanks. Also, LoveEpicLove this goes out to you for reading and commenting and motivating me to write. XOXO

The room was spinning. My heart had stopped. In the early years of High School when I'd been a dud with half a brain, I had always dreamed of a situation like this, but here, now – when I was in it, the only thing I could feel was anger. How dare he – that pompous son of a bitch put such a proposition in front of me? How could Jalal stand there, without saying anything? This was the Debate Club, I deserved to be here. I wouldn't let an egoistic fiend take it away from me.

"Jalal, this isn't fair." I said angrily. Jalal turned towards me, 'I'm sorry but I love the man' written all over his face. I clenched my teeth. This wasn't fair. Why was Jalal this stupid? Zakir wasn't even gay.

"Fine," I said, taking a deep breath before standing up with an air of commendable finality, "I quit."

At this, Zakir's eyes shot up. There wasn't mockery in them now – Only anger. I raised my eyes to his, the air between us crackling in a clash of ego and arrogance. The room was silent, even Vapid-Team-Member was paying close attention to the proceedings.

Jalal cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Leila," he began, as I pursed my lips at him, "I saw you debate today, you were really good. I want to put you on the team. I am sure R-cube C will only benefit from your participation at an Inter-university level."

I beamed. Yay, he liked me! Take that you asshole! Finally, Jalal was on my side.

"But," he continued, my face falling immediately, "a bet is a bet. And a word once given must be kept. Naturally that means you will have to leave this club, and I am sorry about that for as I said before you could be a valuable asset to it. So, what Zakir is suggesting, according to me is a rather amiable way of getting over things."

I stared at Jalal, despondent, "But –"

"It's just a kiss, Leila." shrugged Jalal. "I'm sure you've kissed many people before. When he is offering this amicable concession, accept it. It isn't like he's a horrendously ugly Uncle anyway?" I puked, at Jalal's facial adoration then, looked at Zakir who winked, and mouthed 'scared' – the words 'I'm sure you've kissed many people before' reverberating through my mind.

'Asshole' I mouthed back and said, "Okay let's get done with this." As Zakir got to his feet, and walked towards me like Tarquin must have walked towards Lucrece, my insides screamed in revolt. Well ofcourse he was hot, and reputation said he was talented. But this wasn't about kissing him, this was about me giving in, me accepting defeat.

This was about the fact that I'd never really, actually kissed a guy before. This was about me wanting to save that moment like a possibly romantic version of Aubrey Hepburn for someone special. This was about the sanctity of my first kiss, about the chastity of pride.

"Okay then," he murmured softly stepping up before me, "so much for the mountain goat." I head his soft chuckle, so this was what it was about. He'd heard me, and now he wanted – like every vain male, to avenge what I'd said. He was before me, his eyes piercing my soul.

I lowered my eyes immediately, a strange blush rising up my cheeks. I nearly began to cry in humiliation as he cupped my face in his hands so very gently, pulling me to my toes so that I could reach him. I searched my entire soul for familiar feelings of revulsion, of disgust and dislike. I sermonised my intestines to send up some bile. Instead, I just felt a terrible fluttering anticipation in the bottom of my heart.

I fumed and chaffed, but my traitorous skin, tingled as he caressed my cheek oh so lightly. I was feeling now a strange expectancy, almost like I wanted this to happen. I looked up, into his eyes, and saw the Chestnut was almost black now. Was that desire? I began to wonder to myself. "You smell like coffee," he was saying as he looked down at my lips, his own just hair's breath away from mine. I could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke each word. I could feel the arrogant victory of his smile as he lowered his head saying, "And I like coffee, especially the type that doesn't kick."

The moment his lips touched mine, I froze. They were soft, and warm moving slowly over mine. My eyes fluttered shut, and for a moment all I wanted to do was give in. I wanted to open my mouth and let him inside, I wanted to let him kiss me hard against some wall, I wanted to take this 'debate' to a more secluded and private space, where we could raise our own temperatures.

Zakir bit my lower lip gently. Pain and pleasure in a dizzying mixture coursed through my veins at a break-neck speed. I felt my toes tingle, the tips of my fingers itch from the need to reach up and feel him. Shocked and thrilled, quite unbalanced now, I parted my lips. Instantly he increased the tempo, gaining access inside. I moaned, and lifted my hand to his shoulder loving the hard muscle I found there, while his strong, muscular hand shifted down to my lower back. I felt him smile against my lips. He tasted of Victory, sprinkled with Arrogance. Then, the words came back to me now.

I like coffee: Especially the type that doesn't kick.

All at once my eyes flew open, and my right knee rose in defence to meet him where he lived – where all men lived. His hands fell down at once, while I with the greatest amount of effort I schooled myself, and controlled my breathing. He looked angry, colour rose to my cheeks. I felt rather strange about kicking him right there. I was wearing only a skirt and I had distinctly felt what he had, and how much he had down there against my knee. Suddenly, I wasn't very happy about kicking him anymore, but I knew if I hadn't I would have surely given in.

The room was buzzing, the ladies in it especially were quite shocked. I straightened my skirt and put on a smooth professional smile. Turning away from Zakir's angry eyes, I found instead a shocked Jalal standing beside an awestruck Zal. "Well Jalal," I said, trying not to sound as out-of-breath as I did, "Now that I've kissed our little romantic egomaniac for you, I gather I'm in the team?"

Jalal nodded speechlessly, while I smiled at everybody, "Well people, quite some excitement for a day don't you think? Alas its almost six o' clock, and life must move on from debates and kisses . . . Let's say 'Class Dismissed' now, shan't we?"

I laughed at the faces of the people watching. Some, looked speechless, while some looked shocked – a few even looked affronted! I had won, I thought, loving the sound of victory from my lips. I turned to turned to leave, but a most suddenly a most wicked idea flashed through my head. I walked to the door, swinging my hips just a little extra – I knew he'd be watching. Then, I paused just before stepping out, turned and said, "Oh and Zakir?"

I watched as he looked up, his lips set into a frown. I remembered momentarily how those lips had felt on me. Recovering my intent however, I smiled as sweetly as I could and said, "Work on that tongue, okay – you didn't use it quite right."

And with that – I Leila Mallik – who smelled like coffee and had cavewoman hair, went on my way.

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