Finally Falling

40: Brand-On it

My heart dropped into my stomach with a heavy blow. Did he not want to dance or did he just not want to dance with me? I was overthinking this too much.

"Come on," I urged.

"Klumsy."

"Yes, we've established the fact that you call me that. Now, come on."

"I'm not dancing."

"What? Why not? Come on, are you scared?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Are you scared? Is Brandon Owens scared of a little dancing?" I yelled.

Fortunately for Brandon and unfortunately for me, nobody heard me because of the uproaring and riotous music that was blaring from the many speakers planted here and there.

Brandon didn't say anything. "Oh my god, you are afraid of a little dancing!'

"Shut up, Klumsy," he said as I laughed and grabbed his hand, dragging him away. I hauled him out of the gymnasium and entered an empty class. It was a Drama class so there were no tables or chairs, just empty space.

"Klumsy, if you wanted a little action, you could have just told me."

"Oh, shut up."

"Okay now, stand in front of me," I instructed. He gave me a look of this-is-messed-up before obliging.

I put my arms around his neck and he froze. Butterflies were flapping and flipping and fluttering wildly in my chest. What if he told me to stop? What if-

I felt a steady grip around my waist and his body move closer to mine. My hands ached to roam his body, to feel his mouth against mine, to brand it with my name. I could put a brand-on it. Because he's Brandon. Brand-on.

I'm going to go jump off a cliff.

"You really can't dance?" I said with a laugh.

"You saying and asking that over and over again won't change that"

"True, but it will give me a laugh."

"Glad to know I'm so funny," he said humourlessly.

"Okay, so move your left leg when I move mine and your right with mine. Oh, and, don't you dare step on my foot. Who knows how much you weigh with all those muscles and stuff."

"Klumsy?"

"Yeah?"

"Is this you indirectly telling me you would like to see me naked?"

"What?No! Of course not!"

There was a ginormous grin bigger than Africa spread on his devilishly handsome and pristine looking face and I wanted to slap it off while also wanting to stare at him endlessly. I was reaching a dangerous level of creepy.

"Alright, let's start."

There was no music but our bodies moved rhythmically, in sync like we had been doing this our whole lives. Everything melted away, all the worry, the melancholy, the weight of everything just lifted off our shoulders as our bodies moulded together like we were one soul with a desperate hunger to find our way back to each other. Our breaths mingled together and nothing else could be heard but the soft thumps of our feet colliding with the floor. Everything else was a blur, my heart was bleeding for the want of him, for the want to touch him, to touch every part of him until he went to sleep every night and thought of me and wanted more than ever to kiss me like I wanted to kiss him.

He stopped.

The breath in my lungs was evaporating, feeling as though it was never actually there and I was surviving by just looking at him. Looking at the way his mouth curled effortlessly into a smile, looking at how everything about him drew me closer to him. Not just his looks or his dashing body, but the way he would fiercely protect anybody he loved, the way he loved with all his heart and how the pain inside him was deeper than anything.

I wanted to kiss that pain away.

But instead, breathless, I said, "You can dance."

"I may have practised once or twice."

I felt nauseous. My stomach felt like it had been punched repeatedly. The thought of Brandon's hands on some other girl the same way his hands were on me made me angry and sick.

I looked away. "With who?"

"Somebody."

"Somebody who?"

"Just somebody."

"Who!"

"Why does it matter who?"

"It just does, okay!" I said with a ragged breath, taking steps away from him. Maybe I was overreacting but I didn't care right now.

He took a giant stride toward me and I was in his arms again. His arms were protectively around me but I thrashed against him. "Get off!" I was angry and I knew I was going to regret acting so impulsively and it was stupid because Brandon probably didn't even reciprocate my feelings but it didn't change anything.

"I can't do this anymore."

I froze. What? What can't he do any more? Wh-

His mouth was on mine. He was holding me like I was the most delicate thing in the world as if he let go I would break. I wanted to tell him that I wanted this. That I would not break. And so I did. My mouth moved feverishly against his, I was drowning in him, trying to get more. He kissed me with desire, with a passion too strong for most people to handle, but I been dreaming and fantasizing about this for a long time. I had wondered how his mouth would feel against mine, and know that I was feeling it, electricity was crackling and coursing through me, every part of me was aware of what was happening. Every part of me was encompassed in euphoria. Yearning for more, my hands tugged on his hair as his explored me. His hand travelled down my spine where the skin was bare, shivers erupted and cancelled out the electricity, leaving room for only our hunger for each other. It was like being underwater. The depths of the ocean had always been a mystery to mankind, the same way Brandon and his feelings were, but the deeper I got tangled in the kiss, the more I discovered, the beauty and adrenaline of it all, but eventually I had to resurface for air.

My eyes were wide as he was staring intensely at them. "You don't know how fucking long I've waited to do that, Klumsy," he breathed.

This moment was perfect. Absolulety and utterly perfect. But there was something tugging at the edges of my mind, forcing me to acknowledge the fact that he still hadn't told me who his hands had touched like they touched me. Why did it matter though? Brandon had just kissed me and was the best thing I had ever experienced. But that feeling wasn't keen on leaving.

So I asked him again, "Who did you dance with?"

He sighed. Then smiled.

"Jace."

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