thunder [h.s]

ch.8

[sage's pov]

Do you ever get that feeling when you don't want to do something, but when you finally do you can't stop doing it? For example, when you run on a track. You might not like running, but when you feel the breeze and have energy, it feels so great to keep moving. Your legs can't stop. It's like you're running from all of your problems.

That's how I felt in this moment. I never pictured myself kissing a man I only met a few days ago. A man who was annoyed with me for most of the days we've known each other, at that.
I never imagined the feeling of his soft, full, pink lips connecting with my chapped, now swollen ones. I never thought I'd want that. I found myself unable to stop moving my lips and match his movements. I felt like I couldn't stop. He tasted like mint and cigarettes. I've never known of any lips that were so soft.

It might be surprising, considering I'm twenty years old, that I've only kissed two people. Eric from third grade, and my boyfriend of three months in sixth grade, Tyler. I've forgotten how it felt.

It just hit me, after Harry pushed his tongue through my lips, what was happening. With the realization and confusion, I pulled away. I looked at him, questionably.

"I'm sorry," I apologized.

"Why? You taste like strawberries and chocolate, no need to be sorry. I'm the one who made the move, Love."

"Why'd you do that? I thought you...hated me?" I said. He probably does hate me, now.

"Damn, are you blind? I've wanted to taste your lips since that day we were yelling at each other, for crying out loud."

"Which day? Everyday we've known each other we've argued. It seems like, anyways."

He messed with his hair and looked at my lips again. Or my chin.

He then looked into my eyes. I realized how shiny and emerald green they were. Maybe it's just the light. I could've sworn they were blue...

"Well?"
His voice snapped me out of my staring session.

"What?"

"I asked if you liked it. I didn't think I was that bad that you'd ignore me," he laughed. I shyly smiled.

"I forgot how it felt like. To kiss, that is. I've only kissed like, three people now. I'm sorry if I'm a terrible kisser and if my breath stinks. I wasn't expecting you to do that." I flushed.

"You're adorable."

I looked away.

"Hey," he extended his arm out and cupped my face, "no need to be shy my dear. You are the best at kissing, and I've kissed a lot of girls."

I knew he was intending that to be a compliment, but it only made me feel more embarrassed. I frowned.

"Shit. I didn't mean it like that. I mean--"

"It's okay, I get it."

He sighed.

"I'll be on my way, have a good night."

Before he could respond, I was out of his room.

How could he do this? Play with my emotions like that? I don't even know how I feel towards him, and since he kissed me my brain is clouded and I'm more confused than ever. I can't tell if I really have feelings for him or not.

God, I wish I had more relationships in high school. I'd be so much better at this.

I carefully walked back to my dorm, taking the familiar path back. I'll just sleep on this topic.

When I crawled in bed, I got that feeling in my stomach. The feeling nature gets before there's a storm.

I knew things were going to be different, and my life probably just got to the climax if this were a story. How ironic. It could be the resolution, or maybe the conflict. I don't remember the other elements to literature. I'm a photographer, not an author.

"Goodnight, Moon."

[harry's pov]

Fucking hell. I screwed up. Why did I have to make a move? I feel like I'm being such a pussy. Why am I pondering over the fact that I decided to stupidly kiss this strongly opinionated red-head girl? Why is this such a big deal? I've kissed so many other girls. I've even fucked some of them. Kissing a girl I've known for a week shouldn't impact my thoughts so heavily as it as right now.

"I've been wanting to taste your lips since that day we were yelling at each other." I stupidly repeated in my head. Why did I say that? Who was I when I said that? It doesn't sound like me. That's for sure.

Up close, I realized Sage wasn't even a red-head. It's like even her damn hair was an illusion. Just like her eyes. I still can't tell what color they really are.

Far away, her hair looks red. Up close it's like a strawberry blondish brown that I don't understand.

The girl is just a fucking strawberry.

That's my conclusion.

I went to bed that night dreaming about the strawberry girl.