20 First Kisses

Talk Too Much

A/N: Inspired by the song Talk Too Much by COIN

Simon

Baz will not shut up. I want to hit him so that the snide remarks will stop pouring out of his mouth. I would hit him if it wouldn't mean that I would instantly get kicked out of Watford. Maybe I should leave our room. It's late, but honestly, anything would be better than listening to him go on and on about all the ways that he's better than me when all I want to do is shower and go to bed.

Of course, he's blocking my way to the en suite. I could attempt to push past him, but I don't want to risk it turning into a fight. Sighing, I tune him out and look him over, trying to find a way to make him stop.

He's got a wide stance, like he's reading to take me if I were to lunge at him. Fighting is out of the question anyway, so I'll have to come up with some other way to get him to move. I could start messing with his things on his bed, but that would probably lead to more yelling and wouldn't guarantee that he'd move out of the way. I have to think of something else, something to distract him.

I look back up at his face, and I find that the usual sneer is in place and those grey eyes are glaring at me. My gaze falls just slightly, and I get an idea. It's a really bad idea, but at least if he hits me for it, he'll be the one to get kicked out of the school and not me.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I'm crossing the distance between us, grabbing the front of his jumper, and pulling him to me. I hear him gasp, and he's finally quiet. I don't stop there, though. I lean into him, tilting my face up, and then I press my lips to his.

He doesn't push me away, and it takes me much too long to remember what the purpose of this was. When I pull away, I can't make eye contact with him, too afraid of the hate and anger that I'll see there.

"You talk too much," I tell him.

Then, taking advantage of the fact that he's too stunned by what I've just done to do anything, I push past him and into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I close my eyes for just a moment, and when I open them, I decide that it's best not to think about what I just did, so I tuck that memory away. I'll have to face it soon enough. But for now, I just want to take a warm shower and relax.

When I step back out into our room, it's empty, and the silence is almost deafening. I wonder for a moment where Baz might have gotten off to, but I remind myself that it doesn't matter. It's quiet now, which is what I wanted.

Right?

I turn out the lights in our room and crawl into bed. The moment that my head hits the pillow and my eyes fall shut, that kiss begins to replay itself.

The surprised gasp from Baz as our lips met that melted into a soft sigh. His lips moving slowly against mine as he kissed me back instead of pushing me away. The way that my grip on the front of his jumper loosened without fulling letting go as his hand came up to cup the side of my face as he deepened the kiss.

That kiss lasted much too long, and I'm a fool. I should not have kissed Baz. He's probably out plotting all kinds of way to get back at me for it.

It was just much too nice to stop it. I only meant to kiss him long enough to shut him up, but that was something else. That was more than just a simple kiss, but it didn't mean anything. It wasn't supposed to mean anything. So, why is my heart racing at the simple memory of it?

***

When I wake up in the morning, I hear Baz moving around in the bathroom, getting ready for the day. He's usually still asleep when I get up, so this is unusual. It takes me a moment to remember what else is out of the ordinary. To remember how I kissed him last night.