10 Reasons Not to Fall in Love

The Worst/Best Way to Lose Your First ****

            “Liz, I’m flattered, but… I think I’m dying.” Elizabeth heard a strangled voice groan as she opened heavy eyes. The dawn light poured relentlessly from the large cave entrance and howling winds blew feathery snow into the cave as far as their camp fire. The sun just peaked over the horizon, barely above it but mercilessly blinding everything its rays touched.

            But never mind the fact that there was no way a search team could be deployed in these conditions. Never mind that they were going to starve a slow death in an area of California more than likely not even mapped out yet.

            The most important thing was that Elizabeth had somehow managed to turn around during her sleep and wrap her arms AND LEGS around Vincent, dragging the two to the floor and effectively crushing him into tiny pieces.

            Her arms looped around his chest and her legs swung around him in an extremely indecent position, she was squeezing the life out of him in a lethal dead lock.

            “My God,” Vincent gasped. “What are you, an octopus?”

            Elizabeth jerked up and just flailed in panic, ripping herself away from Vincent who gasped for air while holding bruised ribs. She pulled away too quickly, however, caught the jacket sleeve, and the two fell back to the ground.

            The problem was, as Vincent landed on her, he tried to use his hand as a support. And so, the pose ended like this: a guy with his elbow on the ground and his hand unintentionally grasping the girl’s right breast as she lay pinned to the ground by his legs. Oh, not to mention that his face had slipped conveniently onto Elizabeth’s, ruining her first kiss in one fell swoop. Literally.

***

            Vincent winced as he bent over to pick up a brittle twig for the fire that night. His ribs ached, his groin and hips were bruised, the back of his head still hurt where it fell on the dying embers, his entire face still burned with the abuse it had received in a mere twenty emotionally scaring seconds. Elizabeth was really too violent.

            Not that it wasn’t partly his fault, Vincent mentally sighed to himself as he continued collecting wood. Alright; none of it was his fault at all, but that was his problem. If you want to keep your girl, then you’d have to suffer for it.

            Vincent’s heart reached out to all those sorry husbands in the world abused by their wives’ notorious tempers.

            He was suddenly aware of something rustling in the bushes. A white dappled snowshoe rabbit dashed out of the thick brambles, with Elizabeth hard on its heels. The rabbit whisked by Vincent who simply stared as Elizabeth actually ran with its pace, pursuing its veering attempts to shake her off with inhuman ease.

            When she was directly over it, Elizabeth knocked the animal’s legs out of synch, affectively stunning and capturing it. She bowled over in the wispy snow, rabbit in her arms and landed in a sitting position, making her look like she was something close to a powdered doughnut.

            “Look! I caught it! I-” Elizabeth stopped her breathless, giggly enthusiasm and stubbornly snubbed Vincent, remembering she was still mad at him. Vincent sighed.

            “I’m sorry that I wasn’t more careful,” he repeated for the hundredth time.

            Elizabeth held her silence, but blew it out in defeat. “I know it’s not your fault,” she groaned. “I just can’t believe I lost my first kiss to someone like-”

            “You’ve said enough,” Vincent cut her off in an irritated growl.

            “Vincent?”

            “What?” he snapped back. Someone like him, huh? Just how high could a girl’s standards get?!
            “You’re hurting the tinder.”

            “Who. Cares.”

            Elizabeth just shrugged it off and picked up her unconscious rabbit by its ears. Vincent eyed her.

            “What are you going to do with that anyway?”

            “Not sure,” Elizabeth contemplated as she prodded the lean skeleton with an unimpressed expression. “I guess it’s too skinny to eat as barbecue, so I’ll just stew it. I only started chasing after it because it looked promising, but it’s all fur!”

            “Liz…”

            “Oh wait,” Elizabeth smiled as an idea dawned upon her, completely ignoring Vincent’s worried face. “I’ll skin it and make some mittens or something out of it!”

            “Are you really going to kill it?”

            “Of course!” Elizabeth replied like it was the most natural thing in the world. “What else do I do with it?”

            “Don’t most people feel bad for skinning a bunny?”

            Elizabeth thought about it. “Well, then you better find some fish or something.”

            “Wha- me?! How come you can’t?”

            “I’m deathly afraid of water.”

            “WHY?”

            “Oh,” Elizabeth recalled nonchalantly as she tried to flatten her hair being buffeted by the wind. “I almost drowned at the beach, and the experience has emotionally scarred me for life and given the recent events, I’m not going within two yards of the river shore.”

            Vincent sighed.

            The poor rabbit was dead by noon.

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For the record, the **** meant "kiss" and was supposed to have the second meaning of "time". As in chastity. I dunno what you people automatically assumed, but I bet it was something WAY WORSE than what I mean, right? * knowing grin*. So...care to share your thoughts? >:)