Friday, October 3, 2014

The Kiss... Part 1


"Kiss Me".

She had been preparing for this moment for a long time. Too long in fact. She had watched countless movies and read online posts on what constituted the perfect kiss. She had practiced in front of the mirror until she got every thing perfect. 

Minimal to no lipstick. Instead her lips were coated in a soft sugary pink lip gloss, the one that would leave no marks on his face or his shirt, but would make her taste desirable. 

She had scrubbed her lips with a cocoa butter scrub earlier that morning. To get rid of any dry skin. And patted it dry with a soft cloth. 

She had taken so much time brushing her teeth with her electric toothbrush, her roommate had to scream at her to stop. She even scrubbed her tongue with a new tongue scrapper. She was not going to take any chances. 

Her makeup was all natural and minimal. Everything was soft. Soft smokey eye shadow, with soft eyelashes. No extensions. Soft blush hinting at the curves of her cheekbones. Soft tendrils of hair escaping the deliberate messy bun. 

The look was perfect. Perfect without trying too hard. 

The room also had the same vibe. The lighting was soft. Not too dark and menacing.  Not too bright and threatening. Just perfect. And silent. Pin drop silent. So silent, you could hear him breath. 

"What did you say?"

"Kiss me. Please."

She searched for his eyes and locked them. She saw him struggle with the request. She saw him swallow hard, closing his eyes for a brief second. She saw him clench his fists, and release them. She saw his fingers tremble a bit.  

Then she saw him move ever so slightly, towards her. If she was not so focused, she could have missed it.  But he did move. 

She knew she had won. He would kiss her. And she knew that if he kissed her, there would be no turning back. 

So she closed her eyes, a triumphant smile playing across her lips. She closed her eyes and felt him lean closer, closer, until she could feel his breath. She felt her heart quicken, and her palms began to sweat. It was her turn to swallow. 

The wait was agonizing. She felt herself fill with anticipation. She was on fire. She would explode. Self combust. 

She opened her mouth, and licked her lips unconsciously. She heard him take a sharp breath. So she licked her lips again. Slower. Much much slower. She was gasping for breath now. She craned her head backwards to expose her slender neck and she waited....

She felt him before he touched her. His hands trailed down her neck and he cupped her chin in his hand. 

He leaned forward, and crushed her to his chest. She thought she would die. 

And as his lips came closer to hers, her heart burst out in song. "He is mine".. ... 

Then she heard him murmur ...

"Nice try dear. Shame you are not my type".   

And with those words, he calmly pushed her aside, and strode out of the room. Whistling a tune. Under his breath.

She stared at his retreating figure, rejection coursing through her veins. Unblinking. Shattered to her core. Humiliated. Shame welled up in her stomach, up to her heart, and through her eyes.

Her lips hardened. And she promised herself that, even if it was the last thing she would do... He would pay.  



...............to be continued. 


2 comments:

  1. Lovely...pls continue.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Wow! This is awesome. Just discovered ur blog and read every article back-back.

    ReplyDelete

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