in which, selena amorim has never had an easy life, yet when she finds herself crossing paths with an old acquaintance, the first glimpses of hope shine through. as the seasons change, their lives take tumultuous turns and their feelings burn. will...
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Soft jazz cooed throughout the home; his arms were slung around me as our bodies kept close. Every time my body shifted, he tightened his grip on me, making sure I wouldn't have to leave him for anything. His head on my shoulder as we read from the same book, The Catcher in the Rye, it was Halloween night and we were staying in.
I had a partial costume, a mini skirt and a long-sleeve top, and cat ears that were overshadowed by my curls. He wore only a Halloween shirt with the image of Michael Myers screen printed across in red ink and a pair of acid wash denim.
The lights were dim, almost orange, and a bowl of chocolates was left out to avoid any interruptions on our impromptu date. Date, that word was very loosely used in this context, we weren't sure what to make of this intimate get-together.
"How come big shot Richie didn't invite you to some halloween party?"
I asked, licking my fingertip to pick up a page and flip it.
"He did, I'd much rather spend it with you though."
I sighed and dropped the book onto my lap, rolling my eyes back into my head, "You're such a nerd!". I jokingly pushed him off my shoulder as he chuckled, soon laughing.
Laughter subsided, gentle smiles dazed our faces as we admired each other. Flustered, I looked away, feeling like a child as I floated on a cloud of reverie. "It's true, I've missed you." He moved in close, planting a kiss on my cheek.
In return, I placed one on his lips, scared of what to expect next. Moving in closer, he kisses back, much to my surprise he's undoubtedly nervous. Almost as if taking turns, we kiss again for a brief moment then separate, his eyes still linger.
I see the lust mixing into love like creamer into coffee, his posture becomes straight and I know he feels the butterfly wings flapping about in his stomach. He feels that spark once more and I might as well be a flame. The weight of wanting shifting onto his shoulders as his eyes become dark, a smirk revealing itself across his lips.
Am I ready for this?
Is he?
Are we?
No.
I turned my head away, my chest rising and falling in remembrance of Dallas. It was a mistake, it's okay to continue, I told myself. My being refused to listen, anxious and jumpy, I retreated to myself.
