Chasing Miss Conner •OLD VERSION•

Twenty

|Song: Wild Horses By Natasha Bedingfeild|

Twenty

"That.....was the dumbest movie I've ever seen." I dead-panned, staring at the tv which held the credits of the movie The Titanic. Yes I know everyone's supposed to see it and gush over how romantic and heroic it is and all that shit, but seriously after watching it I find it to be the dumbest movie ever.

What the hell kind of person abandons a perfectly good plank of wood for some girl they met on a cruise?

Stupid.

Juliette snorted incredulously from her position behind me. My back rested comfortably against her chest and our legs rested on the coffee table. "How can you not like the titanic?"

I shrugged. "I think it's just really unrealistic. I mean, he basically just met her and he's already dying for her. How's that romantic?"

Juliette played with strands of my hair as she thought over my answer. "Well, in a way I suppose it's unrealistic. But if you think about it, they didn't have time to be realistic. They fell for each other so quickly. Is that such a bad thing?" Her voice had changed when she spoke, became deeper and filled with some emotion I couldn't identify.

I wonder if she........nah.

Annoyed with the repeating music, I switched off the tv and leaned against her, the heat of her body encasing me like a warm blanket.

"They should make a lesbian version." I stated randomly. Juliette chuckled, moving me slightly from the force of it.

"What? The sex would be more interesting." I defended.

"How so?" Her voice was raspy now, her accent made it a little hard to pick through her words, but I was pretty sure I caught the underlying meaning.

My body shivered without my permission, reacting to fantasies of her touch, though she was sitting right behind me.

Figures.

"Well for one, it would be amusing to see how they'd...orchestrate the car scene." I snickered, and Juliette laughed in agreement behind me. "Women are.....better at displaying emotion. We react to emotion with emotion, not muscles. We are softer and are more easily molded,."

I jumped when she moved my hair aside and pressed her lips against the skin of my neck in a kiss. I was suddenly very aware of just how molded we could be. Juliette's every curve seemed to fit mine (or lack of) like a puzzle. It was like she'd started out as a hard, dried, clay statue but over time she'd allowed herself to soften and mold to my life.

"You speak as though you've had many a woman in your bed." Her accent was much thicker now, and I could clearly hear the jealousy in her voice.

"No." I whispered.

"You are much too wise for your young years, tesoro"

I turned as much as I could and laid the side of my head against her chest, feeling and hearing the steady thump thump of her heart beating healthily inside its nest of ribs and lungs. Hearing it beat so powerfully brought tears to my eyes. How I wish mine sounded like that. Instead it was an ugly shriveled up waste of space. My scar itched and my hand immediately came up to rub it.