Impulse ➳ h.s. (On hold)

10. Red Lipstick

MAKE SURE TO READ SLOWLY WHEN IT GETS TO THE LONG PART. YOU'll KNOW WHEN. It will make it a better reading experience, promise.

Jane's POV

Harry swipes his tongue across his bottom lip and I focus on the way it glimmers slightly making me unable to finish my statement evenly.

Before I get the final words out I feel his slightly chapped lips on mine. Unsure of what the correct reaction would be I don't kiss back until I allow myself to give into temptation.

His lips slowly lap over my 'plumful' colored ones making my eyes close and my mind to quiet down. There's no more rambling, shouting, and self-criticism going on. Nothing but sweet bliss.

My arms have plans of there own as they wrap around his neck while he lays me down and hovers over me. His dark emerald eyes stares into my bland barely hazel ones before whispering against my parted lips.

"You're so beautiful."

I collide my mouth forcefully making the kiss deeper. He's demented really. Me beautiful? I don't want to accept the compliment, but I want him to know I appreciate his thought.

He smiles into the kiss and it seems to be contagious. We try to continue but I end up laughing right into the kiss. I give up and place a peck on his cheek.

"That was..." He sighs.

"That bad?" I lay my head on the matress.

"No, actually it was that good. I can't exactly describe it." my head is lifted by him and placed on his chest.

I look up at him knowing he's lying. I don't have much experience to start out with so I know when he says "can't describe it" he means it wasn't the best.

"I laughed while we were still kissing, maybe not that good." I turn from him and nuzzle my head further onto him.

His thumb and forefinger lift me by my chin to look up at him. "That was the best part. There is no better taste than the taste of someone else's true laughter."

I lightly place a kiss on his cheek.

"You know almost everything about me. And despite knowing how awful I truly am, you compliment me, and don't think I've forgotten you stating you like me. I'm worried for you Harry. I really am." I let out a big breath I didn't know I was holding in.

"But that is where you're wrong. I don't know 'almost everything about you'."

"Well what else is there?"

"Hmm... I won't ask you a question, I just want you to tell me something you think would summarize you." His accent is heavy and slow.

What does he mean? I can't "summarize myself".

"I can't do that Harry, I don't know how."

"Try. Just try." His fingers intertwine with my own.

"Okay. Get ready..."

"Ready." He inhales deeply.

I think of everything that has happened to me. Every thought that ha crossed my mind. It's like opening a filing cabinet with no organization. Nothing arranged by alphabetizing, dates, nothing.

Don't give up.

Try.

Just try.

Close your eyes and say what you've never mentioned to anyone.

"Okay. Well... they say you have to love yourself before allowing anyone else the privilege. See I wouldn't say I fully love who I am, in fact I barely love who I am, but I can manage to give her a wink in the mirror every morning. I can will myself to arrange my scattered pieces of a smile that shattered across the dingy ceramic bathroom floor a long while ago on the coldest night of November. I guess I learned to accept the broken pieces. First it was the unruly curls. I learned to live with them after fighting against them since the frizzy middle school days. Three years later there came a boy who would lull me into sleep with his fingers hidden against my scalp. Then it was the smile. The braces came off, the whitening strips went on. I bought more red lipstick than I really needed, but when I looked in the mirror, the matted cosmetic tasted a bit like... victory, I think." I pause to take a deep breath. "But the hardest part of me to accept were... the scars, the white flesh with outlines of where the sadness seeped in too deep over, and over, and over. Yes, but I even learned how to accept them. I regret them. I regret them. I regret every single one of them. But they are a part of me. Mistakes don't show up in photographs. Now maybe all I need is a guide. Or a boy like duct tape who can figure out how to tape these lovely bones into a whole person once more. I am ready for the numbers. I need a mathematician to teach me how to love whole numbers, and get rid of these fractional bindings." My eyes feel heavy. My heart feels heavy. My lungs feel heavy, but my mind, my mind is lighter then it has ever been.

Wow. I honestly felt free and relieved when I wrote this. Maybe it was subconsciously a rant. We'll never really know. Vote please. I put a part of me in this and I would really love it if you did. Thank you!

I will always love you all,

Jasmine xx