Falling For You: A Victuri Story

Chapter 8: Whisper

   "Don't."

   "Don't."

   I keep repeating the word as if repetition will have some effect, some meaning. As if it will change anything. Change the truth.

   It won't. I know it won't.

   "Don't."

I keep my finger on Viktor's lips. His soft, small, strawberry-ripe-red lips.

"Don't."

I pull my face closer to his, my eyes only half open, but still, I can see everything. From his shining silver hair to his perfect face, and half-lidded eyes that are glazing.

"Don't."

Am I talking to him or myself?

"Don't."

We're so close that the mint from his breath could be coming from mine. I want to kiss him and take his beautiful face in my hands.

Then for the last time, I look up into his crystal blue eyes- to an expression that makes my heart beat a hundred times faster- and then the tiny space between or mouths no longer exists.

Viktor's lips are soft like I expected, but the kiss lasts only a few seconds, then I pull away.

My lips are tingling as if a small fire is dancing on them, and my heart is racing. I have one hand tightly grasping Viktor by his shirt, and the other is in my lap, trembling.

What have I just done? I want to look at Viktor so badly. What is he feeling? What is he thinking? What am I thinking?

   And- his lips felt... really nice...

"Yuri."

The word is so swift and sexy that it catches me off guard, and of course, my eyes immediately shoot up to Viktor's.

   His icy blue eyes are staring at me with such intensity, and in just less than a second, I feel like I'm melting. All the way from the tip of my head to the tip of my toes.  Like a candle lit by a blazing fire, dripping, shrinking, and molting into a pool of hot liquid.

   I want to say something, but I can't. My tongue is tied, my mouth is dry, and I can't swallow the large lump that's formed in my throat. I've lost my ability to speak.

   Viktor continues to stare at me, his eyes as piercing and intense as ever. He slowly slides his hands up to where mine is, still tightly clutching his shirt, wrinkling the baby blue material.

   My heart continues to pound, fast, and it just gets faster and faster.   

   He takes my pale hand in both of his sun-tanned ones.  His hands are bigger, they completely envelop mine.  Warm- I want to sink into his touch. And soft, like a newborn's, but firm, strong.

   My mind had been racing with so many thoughts: What is he thinking? Why is he so beautiful? Damn, my heart's beating so fast.  It's like a never-ending pounding drumroll. Can he hear it? It's so loud...

   But now, only one thought resonates clearly in my mind: His hands- they're so soft.

   I unclench my fist from Viktor's shirt, but his hands stay with mine. Again, I can feel the heaviness if the air- tense.  And before anything else can happen I blurt out, "What kind of lotion do you use?"