Perfect Date (yes i get i'm writing that too much but i need to be specific)

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Dolce and I were sitting at the beach on Hilton Head Island, sitting on a picnic blanket under the stars and talking about almost everything you could think of.  From Smash Or Pass to constellations (which I had to explain to her.).  You could hear the ocean waves crashing ruthlessly onto the shore, and the palm trees rustling together like autumn leaves being blown in the wind.  

"Hey, Payton." Dolce interrupted me halfway through some drama at my school I was talking about, and I looked at her curiously.

"Hm?" I asked, pulling my sweatshirt on since I was getting chills from the wind.

"Do you ever wonder when you really started to know that you were pansexual?"

I pursed my lips at that, thinking for a hard minute. "When I was ten or eleven. Sometime around there."

Dolce grinned, and swing her arm around me, "So you were scared of me rejecting you for three years, huh?"

"Pretty much."

She looked up at the stars, and pointed to a particularly red/orange looking blotch surrounded by stars and constellations of every kind. "Which star is that?" she asked,

"That, my friend, isn't a star. It's Mars." I snickered, hearing Dolce mumble 'smartass', but I thought not much of it. She was always embarrassed when she was wrong, or in this case, as I recall she called it; "Meaning to say that."

"I sure am, bud." I responded, grinning once again. 

Dolce looked away, and reclined her arm back to her side as she suddenly seemed tense and uptight. 

"Hey are you alright-"

I didn't finish my sentence.

She cut me of with a kiss, and it was like enduring choreography, but having it all be improvised along the way.  Her hands snaked around my waist, and her lips danced lightly across mine.  My hands traveled up to her hair, and this time I kissed back in a fierce manner.  If kisses could talk, mine spoke loud and clear;

I control the situation. 

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