vellichor short

Tossing Onions

"But the wings add the ultimate fear factor! It can run! And fly! Need I say more?"

"But moths have like sixteen legs! They're so..." he trailed off with an involuntary shudder.

She pretended to mull this over, then pointed at him with a piece of bell pepper. "So you're saying legs are scarier than wings? Cockroaches have wings, Aaron, wings", she said, popping the bell pepper into her mouth.

They continued down the lamplit street, debating the last in their series of colorful scenarios in their game of Would You Rather. Every so often, she would pluck a slice of onion off of her taco and throw it at his head. When she finally managed to hit him, he wasted no time in retaliating with a large black bean.

She gasped in mock horror as it hit her squarely in the forehead, watching as he feigned shock when she flipped him off. They had taken to "catching dinner" together, simply adding it to their routine. Whenever he was in town, they would walk together to whatever food stall or cart was closest, then walk back to the bookshop eating and chatting. Lately, they had taken to playing heavily contested games of Would You Rather that carried them through their walks.

"Moths don't crawl like cockroaches. Crawling definitely raises the creep factor" she argued, taking another bite of the taco.

He crammed the last of his first taco into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully, then mumbled something unintelligible, before blushing and motioning for her to wait. He swallowed, then said, "Yeah, but cockroaches usually fly away from you right? Moths fly right at you! It's like they know every weak moment in your life and that's when they appear."

She snorted around her taco, tossed another onion at him, and missed. "That's dramatic."

He huffed. "I'm not budging on this Bills, moths are seriously creepy."

She looked at him, surprised, as he rambled on about the moths. Bills? She knew that it probably wasn't that important, but it felt like something had shifted between them. She carefully lifted the taco to her mouth and nodded along to whatever he was saying, but her new nickname ran through her head like a mantra. Bills, Bills, Bills, Bills, Bills. What the hell is wrong with me? It's perfectly normal to call a friend a nickname, right? We're just friends. Friends who call each other nicknames. So, so, perfectly normal. So blasé. No big deal! She looked sideways at him as he outlined the merits of the cockroach over moths, stifling a laugh when he missed the taco with his mouth, so engrossed in their discussion. Oh god. I like him. Like not as a friend. Like I-want-to-kiss-him-right-now kind of like him. Oh shit.

"What do you think?" he asked, interrupting her panicked internal monologue.

She jumped back into the conversation with vigor to make up for her zoning out. "Yeah! Yeah, I mean I guess I understand, but moths are still less creepy. Cockroaches run really fast..." Bills, Bills, Bills, Bills.

She mulled over her new revelation as they reached the bookshop parking lot. He took her balled up wrapper from her and walked it over to the trash can, all while debating how fast cockroaches could run. "Do you think they could run faster than dogs?" he said slightly louder than he usually did, as she was at the other end of the parking lot.

Bills, Bills, Bills, Bills, Bills. "I don't know. Why?" she called back, still lost in thought.

He walked back over to her. "What about cats?"

"Do cats run faster or slower than dogs?" she asked, as if they were seriously debating this. Bills, Bills, Bills, Bills, Bills.

He watched her thoughtfully for a second, and as she looked up at him, he realized her cheeks were tinged slightly with pink. He remembered how red she had turned when he had accidentally profiled her out loud in the bookshop. As they stood in pleasant silence, he allowed himself to imagine that she might have feelings for him as well, and as she caught his eye again, he realized her pupils were dilated. Shit. What if... No. It can't be. He took a small step closer. She shifted slightly so they faced each other. Try as he might, he couldn't stop profiling her. Her breath had quickened slightly, and she was nervously twisting one of her rings around her finger. Another step. They were impossibly close now, close enough to see the slight goosebumps on her arms. Is this really happening? He shifted so they were toe to toe, and gently caught her hand. She inhaled sharply and murmured his name, but made no move to turn away. He finally closed the gap between them, and then they were kissing, softly, sweetly. They moved apart, looking at each other, then she moved her hand up to the fabric of the front of his shirt and pulled him back toward her, and they kissed again before they broke apart. They laughed and she stole one last kiss before they parted ways.

Goodnight, Aaron, she whispered.

He smiled, biting the inside of his cheek. Goodnight, Bills.