His lips taste like salt. Not the type of salt you'd put in potatoes, or on fried eggs. Or even the salt you taste from sweat. But, the type of salt that you'd taste on your own lips after you've held your breath under the water of the ocean. It's a sweet, bright white taste. Like the sugary sweet and salty flavor of ketchup chips.
A hint of tongue. Soft, yet the small taste buds come alive in my mouth. I feel the slippery articulator run along my teeth. Tasting completely like him. Blue, like the ocean itself. There can't be another explanation for it.
Everything about him reminds me of it. Of Prince Edward Island. If the island were a person, it would be him. The red soil of the land, is the color of his cheeks when he gets embarrassed. The green grass, is the flecks in his eyes, just above the deep ocean blue. His hair, the perfect color in between the golden of the sun, and the white of the clouds. No, the white of the moon. Like the pull the moon has on the ocean, his hair waves out.
Terence Kynaston will be the death of me if our lives keep tangling together like this. It's happened 3 times now.
The first knot in our acquaintanceship, was on a cool, orange and red day. With sparks of yellow of course. The trees looked like fire. The heat between us was fire.
The second tangle, occurred with ice. It wasn't only our hostile attitudes that came across as cold. Snow was falling, freezing rain came soon after.
This time, we've met in purple passion. The poison to the sane mind.
YOU ARE READING
Hot Chocolate and Conflicts
Short Story"Terence Kynaston is making his way into my life again..." Alena Tobin has had some bad run-ins with a certain blue-eyed boy. But, he's not all bad...
