Miss Tara

Chapter three

"So, basically what you have to do is stir the mixture instead of clockwise for exactly fifteen seconds -"

"Uhu, that's great, darling -"

"And then you simply take a snippet from the plant- just a small bit -"

"Yeah, um - love, mind helping me out here?"

"And then it - woah, boy!"

"You weren't listening!"

"No, you weren't listening -"

She fumbles to save the conversation because Fabian is standing stark naked in the dormitory, only wearing white socks, looking slightly comical with that darn cap puffed coyly askew. At the moment she is not able to do anything but panic at the tingle in her lower abdomen. Fabian is staring at her intensely, his smile curving upwards as it lights his features with amusement

"Fancy some, love?"

"I don't really... I-I mean - I don't really know... Oh, God. Why am I telling you this!"

He is watching her, wearing this slightly goofy grin, which is unbearably endearing.

"So this is new?"

"Yes -"

"You don't usually go home with strange boys after dark?"

"No, I don't go home with.... Anyone."

She fights back the blush and looks down at her feet, her proper mary-janes are dirty. She had cleaned them this morning, thinking it would be the last day in this year. And now she is standing in the boys' dormitory, four hours before the train leaves. She sneaks another peek at him and finds him just as naked, standing by the window with the moonlight dipping in over him.

He steps forward and then he is kissing her. His mouth is slightly sloppy, but sort of earnest against her, and he is backing her into the bed, fingers slipping over mountains and valleys. A breath escapes her in a gasp as he parts her legs and steps closer. His skin burns against hers as he nuzzles into the crook of her neck. He feels very real. He is this solid mass standing right in front of her, nudging her, pressing into her - and - and God, his hands -

"Tara..."

"Y-yes...?"

"Take off your clothes."

His smirk spreads against her skin and she hears herself say "oh" and even to her it sounds so quiet and innocent, not like she is supposed to sound. The air is laced with something that is bigger than them - this is serious, and Tara suddenly finds the situation very adult. An image of her own six year old self, playing with dolls and gushing, making kissing sounds. Barbie loves Ken. They are going to marry and cook on their stove every day from now -

Fabian sounds very old too and she cannot quite recognize him anymore. A deep murmur resounds from the back of his throat and all the while it scares her, and she feels like going back to her own bed, it is also really interesting in a way that makes her stomach tweak. His face is all scrunched up so close to hers and she spots a birthmark on the tip of his nose. He is breathing hard against her skin but he is just as taunting as always, wiggling his eyebrows at her with his face way too close to hers. He kisses her again in the fashion that leaves her breathless and wanting for something more.

"I'll help you, yeah?" Fabian says in a rough whisper, his hair carelessly falling into his eyes. She can feel his hot breath trickling her collarbone as he slowly unbuttons her conservative blouse. This is it, she thinks, this is the unravelling of Tara Smith. Most of the boys are still out, but she can hear the soft snoring to their left behind another door. She is halted by the sound for a moment, appreciating the suppleness of it; the normalness of it, committing all of these sounds to memory. It is what she will recall years from now.