Salvation

18 ∆ nicotine lips

''So, MGMT, Amber Run and... Funeral Suits?''

''Yes.''

''Wow, you seem really sure bout that.'' Matthew laughed.

''That's because I am really sure bout that.'' I replied, flicking the cigarette in between my fingers outside the window so the ash could fall outside and be taken by the wind.

''Why do you like them so much?''

''Because,'' I brought the joint to my mouth, inhaled, exhaled. ''they are awesome.''

And there was silence. For a long time, silence. Matthew just stared at me, probably wondering why was I so weird, as I averted my gaze once again towards the view.

''So, you sing.'' He spoke up.

Funny thing, he wasn't questioning. He just affirmed that.

''I heard you singing earlier.'' He said before I could ask. I nodded to myself and then agreed.

''Yeah, I do. I'm rubbish, though.''

''Shu'up.'' He smiled at me for a second, before turning to look back out the window. ''Do you compose too?''

''I just write the songs, I can't play any instruments.''

He nodded, still looking at the window, and I took this as an opportunity to examine him a bit more carefully.

He wasn't your average attractive guy, even with the carelessly messy hair and ragged clothes (...which were, actually, mine, in that special occasion); in fact, I didn't know if I found him attractive at all, but I liked him a lot, handsome or not. He was a good person, and he was cool most times, and that was the only thing that mattered to me, in any sort of relationship.

Still looking out the window, he said, ''So...''

''Yeah?'' I replied, looking quickly back at the view.

''Anna, I like you.''

I turned to look at him again but he was staring out into space, almost as if he didn't notice I was really there.

''I, uh, like you too, Matthew.''

''Thanks for helping me out today.''

''It's alright.''

Matthew wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close to him, which made me flinch lightly. I wasn't used to physical contact.

He smiled down at me and I smiled back, nodding to myself. That was good. I liked that. Warmth provided by another human body next to mine, when he voluntarily got close to me. It was pleasant.

But oh, little did I know, it'd get better.

With his head leaning against mine, Matthew had one of his hands draped over my shoulder, loosely playing with my hair, and he slowly slid the other one to my thigh. It nearly felt like slow motion, the way his palm was touching more and more of my leg, his head was lifting itself from mine and lowering as I looked to the side, at him. Our lips were barely inches apart, and just then it came downing on me.

We were going to kiss.

I could freak out like I usually do, push him away, lean back from his face and leave him questioning what happened and probably hating me... but I didn't.

I inched forwards. I eliminated that space separating us, once and for all. And it was good.

It felt blissfully pleasant to be the one to make the move, to end the agony of waiting, staring into each other's eyes for what felt like eternity until he did something.