That Night

1

I did not know why I did it, but I leaned down and captured his lips with mine. All coherent thoughts and common sense flew straight out of my head.

Those few stilled seconds with his soft lips on mine felt like heaven and dread. It was as soft as I had always imagine, but the aftermath was not worth it.

At least I finally know how he tastes like, I thought. Underneath the bitter taste of vodka, he tasted like how I always dreamt of, honey and spice, an odd combination yet so perfectly complimented each other, and suited him so well.

I pulled away, already missing his warmth. I couldn't look into his eyes, the disgust that must be in them, "I-"

He cut me off with his lips and snaked his arms around me before I could finish my apology. My body acted before I even knew what I was doing, my hands sinking into those blond curls that I had been dying to touch.

Then we were devouring each other, two hungry human beings tasting each other for the first time, finally clenching their thirst. Our lips were moving together as if we had been practicing this tango our whole lives.

Reluctantly, I pulled away first, panting hard. His hair was disheveled, running in all different directions, so unlike his normal, carefully styled hair. But he didn't seemed to care, because he was looking at me with shock, disbelief and some other emotions I couldn't interpret yet.

I knew my look probably mirrored him, swollen lips, widened eyes, flushed face.

Before I could analyze his emotions or process what had happened, his impossibly soft lips were on mine once more and I could only close my eyes and return it. Savoring the moment, storing it in my heart; because I knew tomorrow nothing would ever be the same.