Shots In The Dark

Kairos

Kairos: The perfect delicate, crucial moment. The fleeting rightness of time and place that creates the perfect atmosphere for actions word or movement.

Hazel sunk her cold feet into the warm sand and lifted her head towards the sound of the waves hitting the shore and watched as the sea pulled them back.

"The tides are bigger at night," interrupted her reverie and if it wasn't so familiar, she would've been startled.

"Tell me, Ansel, do you always sneak up on girls when they're alone at the beach?" She looked up at his dimly lit yet tall figure and flicked her salty hair out of her eyes. "At night." She raised her eyebrows to emphasize her point.

"Don't approach girls when they're alone at night," he pressed his finger to his forehead and furrowed his eyebrows in a mocking manner. "Mental note made."

Hazel threw some sand at him and watched as he stepped back to dodge it, eyes crinkled in laughter. He sank next to her handed her an ice cream cone, which she took despite already feeling chilly.

"So," his voice broke the comfortable silence. "I have this friend, and he's having a bit of a dilemma right now."

"You got the wrong ice cream flavor," she noted, sinking her teeth into the vanilla ice cream anyway. 

"Everyone knows vanilla's a classic," Hazel could see him flash a sideways glance and there was something remarkable about the way the planes and hollows of his sculpted face looked in the faint moonlight.

She turned her head before he could catch her staring.

He cleared his throat. "Anyways, he's having girl problems and I decided who better to help him than you know, a girl."

"And you came to me because I'm the only girl who can stand you because of your smelly breath," her sentence ended in giggles and it only worsened when he pushed her playfully.

"My breath does not reek," he argued.

"Yeah it does," she teased.

He turned to her and blew on her face. She waved her hand through the air and scrunched jokingly, but it was hard to play it cool when their noses were almost touching.

"Why do you always come to me for girl advice anyway?" she tried changing the subject.

"I don't always - " he started.

"Bianca, Chelsea, Selane," she rattled off.

"Okay," he stopped her. I do come to you often. But this isn't for me remember? I'm helping a bud out."

"Yeah right," she snorted unattractively. "Do you like Selane again?"

Ansel choked. "That was third grade-"

"Selane and Ansel, sitting in a tree - " Hazel sang.

Her singing was cut off as Ansel slapped a hand over her mouth but he retracted it as he felt her wet tongue glide over his palm.

"Gross," he muttered and wiped his hand on his shorts. "So my friend likes this girl - "

"Are we still going with this friend thing?" she rolled her eyes.

"Yes. He likes this girl and he's not really sure how to tell her," he rushed as if afraid of being interrupted again.

"Has 'he' dropped hints?" her tone was more serious but she made sure to emphasize the air quotes. The truth was it hurt that Ansel liked someone else, not that it hadn't happened before, but she wasn't going to let it show. 

"Lots," he said thoughtfully and leaned back into the sand. Hazel felt her thumb graze his and inched it closer so that it was laying atop his. "But he's not sure if she's caught on."

"Then just a confession will do," she leaned her head to the side and felt it bump against his shoulder.

"Those are scary," he whispered.

"I know." He breath stirred her own frizzy locks.

"What should he say?" Hazel could hear the worry in his voice.

She shrugged. "Something. Anything."

It was quite after that and the sound of the waves were overrun by her thundering heart.

He turned his head to the side. "What if he kisses her?" His lips were right next to her forehead.

"Then make it good." She looked up to meet his eyes that were already looking down at her.

"How?" He was so close now she could make out every individual lash.

"Kiss her like it's the only thing you've wanted to do since the moment you met her."

She could sense him leaning in, and her eyes fluttered shut because moments like this were so surreal that she wouldn't believe it anyways if she saw it happening.

He stopped right after grazing her lips and she felt her breath hitch.

Hazel, rather impatiently, says "that's not how you do it," and presses her lips to his. 

He was responsive and nicked and sucked at her lips. His hand came up to cup her face and he began to kiss her feverishly. Just when she thought all the oxygen in her lungs had escaped , he kissed her long and hard until the only thoughts she had were the repetitive syllables of his name. 

He detached himself from the kiss but barely moved away as their breaths mingled. 

"Vanilla was a good choice," he smiled and his licked his lips. His voice dropped a couple of octaves and he leaned in close. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time," he said in between pecks and weaved his hands deeper into her hair.

"Then you should have made the first move," she smiled and kissed the side of his mouth. 

He pulled back and stopped abruptly. "I did," he insisted. 

"This," she leaned in to mirror his previous action of grazing their lips "doesn't count."

Ansel closed his eyes as a shiver went down his spine; whether from the cold or Hazel's actions, she doesn't know. He leaned in closer to suck on her lips and then sponged kisses from her eyes, nose, and then back to her lips. 

Hazel let out a small giggle and felt Ansel smirk against her skin.

"When was the last time you did that?"

"Obviously with Selane in third grade."

She hit his shoulder and buried her head into his shoulder as they both shook with laughter. When it died down, he reached a hand up to stroke her hair and brought her head up to plant a kiss on her forehead.

"We should head back," she said.

He moved her head to look at her better. "I don't want this to end," his hand slid to grip her waist, as if holding on to her meant holding on to the memory. 

"It doesn't have to," she brought a hand up and fisted it into his shirt. "Will you-"

"-go out with me?" He grinned and if her hand wasn't over his erratic heart she would have mistaken him for being calm.

She pushed him with the same hand and stood up. "That does not count as asking me out first," she said, already slipping on her flip-flops and heading to the car.

She heard his fast footsteps and the feeling of him lifting her off her feet and holding her bridal style.

"Yeah it does," she felt a little bump as he rearranged her in his arms.

"No it doesn't," he shot back and looped her arms around his neck.

Their bickering continued until they reached the car and for moments after, because some things about best friends never change.