It Smells Like Rain

Chapter Seven: Love & Whatnot

"It Smells Like Rain"

Copyright. All Rights Reserved.

Chapter Seven: Love & Whatnot

Hesitation was never a good thing. Nor was shock. Because both of them could stun you into silence, and could wipe your brain clean of any thoughts. In that moment, both of these things caused my mind to go blank, and I felt like a zombie; hell, I was prepared for drool to come spilling out of my mouth at any second.

Arden's face had, during my silence, turned into one of worry, and something I had never seen on him before: fear. I stared at him. I had never in my life heard those three words from anyone who wasn't family. Besides Jesse of course, but obviously, for us, it did not have the same context, nor the same depth and meaning.

"Say something," Arden pleaded. His hand retracted and he ran it through his hair nervously. 

I opened my mouth finally, but then, I just looked like a fish out of water. I cleared my throat, and shut my mouth. I opened it again, then shut it, and repeated that routine several times before I could finally form a response. A fairly inappropriate response in a situation like this, but still a response, and at least I could manage that.

"I don't know what to say." I rethought that, deciding it sounded worse than I intended it. "I mean...I do know, but I've...I've hardly worked it all out in my head " It sounded stupid, I knew.

Arden's expression proved that true. "I don't know what you mean."

"I mean..." What did I mean? Even I was beginning to lose my train of thought. "I mean that, no one's ever said that to me, and...I don't know what love feels like, besides familial love. I know what I feel for you is more than like...but I haven't deciphered it yet." 

His face became relaxed again, and he scooted closer to me, so that our arms were pressed against each other. He lifted a hand, trailed his fingers along my arm, all the up to my chin, and finally, traced an outline of my lips. His eyes flickered down and then back up again. His other hand trailed up and down my other arm, and goosebumps rose to the surface.

"Do you..." He paused, tilting his head a little to the side. "Do you feel that?"

I knew what he meant. I knew he was asking me if that felt like a touch I got from my brother or Jesse. It didn't; I nodded my head in response to his question, but words had escaped me. 

He leaned in closer, pressed his head against mine. His gray eyes had specks of blue in them, and they stared into mine intently. He turned his head to the side a little, and pressed a kiss to either one of my cheeks, making them burn red hot. "And that?" 

My eyes were half-closed, and I couldn't move. "Yes," I whispered. He smiled, and started to pull his head away. 

To this day, I can't say what had possessed me to do what I did after that.

I reached out with both hands, tangling them in his hair, and pulled him back in. "I think I might love you," I told him, and pressed my lips to his. 

As far as first times go, that was one hell of a kiss. Now, as I hold the old picture in my hand, I can feel a small tear drop off of my cheek onto the worn paper. It isn't a sad tear; quite the opposite. I'm happy with how my life turned out, in a strange, forlorn way, even as I feel a strong, almost despairing wave of nostalgia creep up on me. I smile and place the picture frame back onto the mantle of the fireplace. 

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Jesse ruffled my hair. "Way to go, little girl. Finally got your first kiss."