Heart Heart Kiss

We Could Write Novels

He grasped my hand tightly in his. I refused to look at his face. I knew what would happen. We’d kiss, and cuddle, and everything would seem okay. Seem. But it wouldn’t be. It’d be a cheap thrill. Fair enough, for sure, but not what I wanted. Not this time.
This irresistible boy had been the main driving force of my existence for a long time now. He could singlehandedly bring me to laughter, or tears, in a matter of seconds. Drive me to do crazy things. Cause me to worry myself out of my mind. He was extraordinary. He was wonderful. He was him.
He loosened his grip on my hand with a sigh.

“Sorry.”
“It’s fine…” I murmured, glad it was so dark, my cheeks must have been burning.
I pulled him down onto the dark pavement of the parking lot we had been standing in.
The same place we had always done all of our thinking. Talking. Our deep conversations about life, and love, and earth, and what happens when we die. Where we came after heartbreaks and suicides, and tragedy. Always the prelude to a romance. Always.

I put my head on the asphalt, laying down on the warm ground. The sun beating down on it all day had done it some good. He layed his head next to mine, a mass of curls intertwining on black. We turned to face each other, and he smiled, like he always did, when he wanted my attention. Fabulous. Mesmerizing. Terrible.

“Our life is very much like one of those dumb teen dramas, or books, huh?”
His smile pulled into a half-smirk, and he made some kind of disapproving noise.
“Yeah, I guess. “
“No, not “I guess” , it is. We could fill a book series with the amount of shit we put each other through. We’d make millions.”
He laughed to himself, and I smiled. Only he could get my humour.

Silence.
I stared up at the stars, I was always terrible at finding constellations, or planets. Only the moon and occasional satellite caught my wandering eyes. It was all too big to comprehend.

I felt him move from beside me, to having his head in my lap. We were looking up at the same sky. What a strange concept.
“So how do you think it will end?”
He pulled me out of my daze.
“…What?”
“Our story. Or drama. Or show. Or whatever you want to call it. How will it end? Will we be together? Or will some other characters come along and take you away? Or me, of course.”
I pursed my lips, and sat up. Careful not to displace him.
“It won’t. It won’t end. Life isn’t about endings, is it? It just keeps going. And even if we get taken away with other people…something tells me it still won’t end there. Why would it? We’re going to be okay. We always are. Just remember that for me.”
He nodded, and sat up, pulling himself so he was now seated next to me.
He put his hand on mine and I leaned my head on his shoulder.
“Don’t leave. Okay? “
He nodded.
“Promise?”
“Mhm.”

(by passionatelyinlike)