Dear Heart

10. Wendy. Ollie.

10

Wendy

He was kissing her. Ollie was kissing her.

Kissing her.

The total whiteout of shock rendered her immobile, a flash of complete blankness, each muscle locked into place. Her mind kept telling her, over and over, that Ollie had his lips against hers. But it took a few startled heartbeats before she could connect "kiss" with the feel of Ollie's dry mouth pressed chastely to hers.

And then it slotted neatly into a place that had been waiting for this moment since she was ten-years-old, and it made perfect, beautiful sense.

She pulled back a fraction, breath a gasp between them, turning to white vapor in the cold. "I–" she started.

"I'm sorry," Ollie said, his eyes wide and wild around the edges, tracing across her face with something like panic. "Are you–"

"Do not apologize," she ordered, surprised by how stern she sounded.

He exhaled shakily. "No?"

"No." She dampened her lips, and watched his gaze narrow down to the movement; something clenched low in her stomach in response. A little buzzed on beer, hot inside her own skin, out here in the sharp night air, she felt suddenly bold. "Can we do that again?"

It was still the most incredible surprise, but this time she was ready. His hand slid down to curve around her nape, and he pulled her in again. His face, right before she closed her eyes, was rapturous.

His lips met hers, a faint rustling of dry leaves, the gentlest press of skin, two pieces of paper settling together. He fitted their mouths together, a quiet nudge: I'm here, we're here, this is home, finally.

She could have stood like this for hours.

And she wanted more.

Everything.

The kiss deepened by slow degrees. An easy, willful sort of drowning. Ollie parted his lips, and the tip of his tongue probed delicately at her low lip. She opened for him, first a little, and then a little more, and she felt him gasp against her, a quiet rush of surprise and gladness that sent chills rippling in waves down her spine.

His other hand found the curve of her waist and she went willingly as he pulled her in close, her hands smoothing across the strong, hard wall of his chest, his heart thumping hard and steady against her palm. He was so warm beneath his clothes, and he was shaking, as she tilted her head back and pressed in flush to him, welcomed his tongue into her mouth.

The hand at her nape shifted lower, cupping the back of her neck, his thumb sweeping across the flickering pulse in her throat. He was checking hers just as she was checking his, letting their wild heartbeats assure one another that this was what they wanted, that it was good, and sweet, and right.

He broke away with a ragged sound and pressed his lips to her forehead; they were wet now, slick as satin. "I've wanted to kiss you forever," he said in a choked voice.

"I wish you had." She closed her eyes against the sting of tears. "Or maybe I should have kissed you."

His chuckle was wrecked, and humorless; energy thrummed beneath his skin, vibrating into her.

"Let's go home," she suggested.

~*~

Ollie

"Aw, you're leaving?" LG asked when they said goodbye, but something in their faces made the guy grin. "See ya later."

Or maybe it was Ollie's arm around Wendy's waist. Probably that was it.