COMPLETED
All 16 year old Avianna Moorson wanted was an easy flight to sandy and beautiful Australia. No talking, no company and no distractions. But what happens, when the person forced to sit next to her leaves her at a loss for words?
"To say this sudden contact was natural would be a lie."
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Hour Fifteen
No response.
"Come on. Come on," she touched his lips once more with her own, lingering a bit longer. Breaths were held and the crowd grew silent, watching and waiting. Even the baby Logan rescued failed to make a peep.
Pressing her palms into his chest, Avianna pumped ferociously.
Still nothing.
Sighing, the ends of her curly, beautiful black hair touched the grey carpet outlined with purple and yellow polka dots while her chin was inches apart from his.
Slowly she closed the gap.
It wasn't anything like she imagined it would be. Avianna couldn't savour the sweet, velvety softness that caused her heart to gallop because she was in the process of saving his life. That was more important.
She couldn't care less about the sporadic butterflies flying in her stomach, nor the warm sensation creeping up on her neck.
There was no doubt she wanted to experience it (it being her first kiss), and hung onto whatever she could no matter how bittersweet.
To her surprise, it didn't resemble anything like the fairytales she'd listen to as a child.
It was better.
The butterflies became rampant, and morphed into a wild stampede. Her senses were high alert. Her sense of touch heightened, carefully gripping his face and repeating the lovesick movement all over again.
To say this sudden contact was natural and that she knew what she was doing would be a lie.
This intimate contact was so foreign to her-- so when the boy on the floor sputtered and coughed, she thanked her lucky stars that she did something right. It was a beautiful sign, such as when the sun peaks out from behind the dark clouds after a torrential storm.
Unfortunately, this sudden and quick eye opening startled her and she jumped back, hitting her head on the bottom of the seat. She hissed in pain, rubbing the tender spot.
The boy whose lips were now tainted with her lip gloss sat up. His eyes registered to the only thing that was familiar to him.
"Avianna?"
He shook his head and found hundreds of eyes peering back. He scrambled to get up and pulled her along with him, landing back into their respected seats. "Avianna. What--what happened?"
Should she tell him about the kiss, about the blacking out? I mean surely he knew. He was there.
