kk
He was lying on his back with his right arm, cast and all, tucked behind his head, relaxed. I was on his left side, curled toward him, our bodies touching from our entangled legs up to my left hand on his chest, my head lying on his shoulder, his left arm under my neck. His left hand ever so slightly began to draw swirls into my back, forcing me to close my eyes and just focus on breathing if I wanted to remain conscious. His hand made its way up to my shoulder, then to my arm, still creating the masterpiece of swirls like Van Gogh painting Starry Night. The moment his fingers grazed my skin a shock resonated through my whole body, goosebumps flowed out from that tiny spot on my arm to every extremity possible.
Embarrassed as I was about my obvious reaction to his touch, I also felt certain a sensation like that couldn't possibly be unrequited. Still being unsure of what he felt, I resolved upon kissing his cheek, my lips lingering close to his face longer than necessary before settling back on his shoulder. He followed with kissing the top of my head, pulling me in closer, tighter. As much as my brain protested against putting in the effort to speak, I knew that I couldn't say nothing at all so I mustered up the few easy words my vocal chords could manage and spat them out.
"So, you're a really great friend to me and it just kind of sucks that I'm leaving for London for three months. But I think we should just talk while I'm gone and stay friends." That was all my incompetent mind could come up with, still in recovery mode from the goosebumps. That would be the end of it right there, I told him I just wanted to be friends. Which was true because usually 5,000 mile long distance relationships don't go over too well. But while I reiterated the fact that we should remain friends, I seemingly forgot to mention that nothing has ever given me the chills the way one touch of his does. I couldn't get a hold of the words that would explain the way his voice is sometimes all I can hear, and when he looks me in the eye, everything surrounding me besides him fades away.
I look up at him, our faces just inches apart, as he simply replies, "Well yes, of course we're going to stay in touch," and moves in closer. His lips come to softly meet with mine, closed, savoring the first moment of our first kiss. Our faces are touching and our mouths are still, remaining in that state of flawlessness. He breaks the pause and begins to delicately kiss my mouth, our lips gradually parting more and more. I can tell his tongue is about to find mine, and I stop.
I can't go that far.
Not when I'm leaving tomorrow for London.
I pull away and rest my head back on his shoulder, nestling my body into his, completely unable to decipher the innumerable feelings racing through my heart and thoughts through my mind. The goosebumps haven't worn off and it's all I can do to simply stay awake in his arms. A few minutes pass in silence, and I come to the conclusion that maybe I did want that kiss to go farther after all.
I look up at him and my left hand pulls his face into mine, once again our lips hesitating just before they meet for the second time. My lips are slightly parted, gently kissing his top lip, him kissing my bottom lip with uncertainty.
He pulls away, looks at me straight on and asks, "What are you thinking?" Not with anger or frustration, but with care, him not wanting to get the truth of my feelings confused with my actions.
Shocked at his incredible perception for being a boy, the only response I can think of slips out. "I don't know. What are you thinking?" I curl my head onto his chest, praying that I'll be able to handle it when he delivers the bad news of us not going anywhere.
"Well," he begins. Here we go, "I'm thinking that I really like you." I pause. Am I alive?
"I'm thinking that I really like you too, I just don't want to because I'm leaving. Karl you're a great friend to me and I'm so thankful for that." He likes me. I don't know why, but he said he likes me.
"No, you're a good friend. You have no idea, Olivia. Seriously."
Right, like I compare to him in any way whatsoever. I don't know why he keeps telling me that. Will he ever understand just how much his every word has changed my life, my world, into something so amazing it's beyond any dream I could ever have imagined?
I look up and kiss his neck, his jawline, his cheek, and then our mouths meet again. Our lips slightly parted, this kiss comes with more passion than anything I've ever experienced. It's lustful, the way he pulls away only a tiny bit- just just far enough away to linger at a spot where my mouth has to search for his. It's filled with desire while still claiming innocence, not crossing any lines that shouldn't be crossed.
The kiss slowly comes to an end and he looks at me and logically states, "This is trouble." before holding me closer, every inch of my body in contact with his. And clearly, this was trouble.
But trouble didn't matter, not anymore. He already meant too much for me, made too big of a difference in my life for things like trouble to have an effect. It wasn't that I needed Karl in my life, it wasn't even that I wanted him there. It was that no matter how I looked at my future, no matter which path I chose and place I ended up, there wasn't a destination I could come up for my life where Karl wasn't present. Spending our summer apart from each other would be difficult, but Karl was more than just summer to me. Karl was the boy who gave a new meaning to loyalty, to willpower, to companionship. It didn't so much matter that the odds wouldn't be on our side, as the fact that Karl now held my heart.
Embarrassed as I was about my obvious reaction to his touch, I also felt certain a sensation like that couldn't possibly be unrequited. Still being unsure of what he felt, I resolved upon kissing his cheek, my lips lingering close to his face longer than necessary before settling back on his shoulder. He followed with kissing the top of my head, pulling me in closer, tighter. As much as my brain protested against putting in the effort to speak, I knew that I couldn't say nothing at all so I mustered up the few easy words my vocal chords could manage and spat them out.
"So, you're a really great friend to me and it just kind of sucks that I'm leaving for London for three months. But I think we should just talk while I'm gone and stay friends." That was all my incompetent mind could come up with, still in recovery mode from the goosebumps. That would be the end of it right there, I told him I just wanted to be friends. Which was true because usually 5,000 mile long distance relationships don't go over too well. But while I reiterated the fact that we should remain friends, I seemingly forgot to mention that nothing has ever given me the chills the way one touch of his does. I couldn't get a hold of the words that would explain the way his voice is sometimes all I can hear, and when he looks me in the eye, everything surrounding me besides him fades away.
I look up at him, our faces just inches apart, as he simply replies, "Well yes, of course we're going to stay in touch," and moves in closer. His lips come to softly meet with mine, closed, savoring the first moment of our first kiss. Our faces are touching and our mouths are still, remaining in that state of flawlessness. He breaks the pause and begins to delicately kiss my mouth, our lips gradually parting more and more. I can tell his tongue is about to find mine, and I stop.
I can't go that far.
Not when I'm leaving tomorrow for London.
I pull away and rest my head back on his shoulder, nestling my body into his, completely unable to decipher the innumerable feelings racing through my heart and thoughts through my mind. The goosebumps haven't worn off and it's all I can do to simply stay awake in his arms. A few minutes pass in silence, and I come to the conclusion that maybe I did want that kiss to go farther after all.
I look up at him and my left hand pulls his face into mine, once again our lips hesitating just before they meet for the second time. My lips are slightly parted, gently kissing his top lip, him kissing my bottom lip with uncertainty.
He pulls away, looks at me straight on and asks, "What are you thinking?" Not with anger or frustration, but with care, him not wanting to get the truth of my feelings confused with my actions.
Shocked at his incredible perception for being a boy, the only response I can think of slips out. "I don't know. What are you thinking?" I curl my head onto his chest, praying that I'll be able to handle it when he delivers the bad news of us not going anywhere.
"Well," he begins. Here we go, "I'm thinking that I really like you." I pause. Am I alive?
"I'm thinking that I really like you too, I just don't want to because I'm leaving. Karl you're a great friend to me and I'm so thankful for that." He likes me. I don't know why, but he said he likes me.
"No, you're a good friend. You have no idea, Olivia. Seriously."
Right, like I compare to him in any way whatsoever. I don't know why he keeps telling me that. Will he ever understand just how much his every word has changed my life, my world, into something so amazing it's beyond any dream I could ever have imagined?
I look up and kiss his neck, his jawline, his cheek, and then our mouths meet again. Our lips slightly parted, this kiss comes with more passion than anything I've ever experienced. It's lustful, the way he pulls away only a tiny bit- just just far enough away to linger at a spot where my mouth has to search for his. It's filled with desire while still claiming innocence, not crossing any lines that shouldn't be crossed.
The kiss slowly comes to an end and he looks at me and logically states, "This is trouble." before holding me closer, every inch of my body in contact with his. And clearly, this was trouble.
But trouble didn't matter, not anymore. He already meant too much for me, made too big of a difference in my life for things like trouble to have an effect. It wasn't that I needed Karl in my life, it wasn't even that I wanted him there. It was that no matter how I looked at my future, no matter which path I chose and place I ended up, there wasn't a destination I could come up for my life where Karl wasn't present. Spending our summer apart from each other would be difficult, but Karl was more than just summer to me. Karl was the boy who gave a new meaning to loyalty, to willpower, to companionship. It didn't so much matter that the odds wouldn't be on our side, as the fact that Karl now held my heart.