“You’re beautiful even when you’re angry.” I run my hand through her short, ruffled hair.
“And you’re cute even when you’re acting like an idiot.”
“Me? Why? How?”
“Because you refuse to tell me anything.”
“Like… I don’t know. You just don’t.”
“Like you didn’t tell me what the number plate is about.”
“I really don’t know what it means!”
“See? You just said it. Whether or not you know doesn’t matter. You just don’t.”
I stare at this adorably unreasonable girl, who’s now all smiles. Damn, she’s got a beautiful set of teeth. If I were shooting a commercial about toothpaste, she will be the first one… And those full, succulent lips. I feel like tasting them again –
Our first kiss was frantic, mad, violent. Like a dynamite that blew up in your face, it was shocking and full of force and left you scattered with a blank mind that couldn’t quite grasp what happened.
This kiss, however, is slower and more deliberate. In a way, I feel like I’m more able to savor the moment, the kiss. Our breath mingle, I’m able to smell her breath, and it is sweet, very sweet – not like the sweetness of candies, of course, yet it’s like I’m tasting her breath, when I’m only inhaling it. I can’t explain it. But I feel like I can share her breath like this forever. We breathe together, our chests heaving and sinking while our tongues explore, gliding off each other and ambushing the undersides. This is another of those moments I know will remained lodged in my mind for a long, long time, yet I do not want it to end.
But of course it has to end. Not because everything in life has to end at some point, whether it’s misery or happiness, or that we’re seriously running out of breath, but also because we’re in the middle of the pavement and we’re surely blocking people’s way.
“Shall we?” I ask, looking down at her breathing hard, my hands locked around her waist.
“Yes, let’s.” She smiles.