Your POV
Sharp, unhappy, but sweet at the same time?
My brain fogs at what's in front of me—a pair of dark pupils staring into my eyes deeply as if they're trying to drill holes in me, in a good way otherwise it's just me.
I find it fascinating how one thing can have such contradictory emotions at the same time. There's a glint of sadness with the feel that they'll hurt anybody peeking at them, though they're gentle and totally incapable of such a thing.
A subtle feeling of discomfort suddenly comes to me—I'm afraid of getting too attached to one aspect only, so I let my eyes riffle to his other features, feeling my finger ghost-trail down his nose, his cupid's bow, and his lips.
Wait, this is a person.
Feeling alarmed, I drop the 'finger' and quickly snap myself back to life. "Sorry, uh-" I hand the tube to him which he doesn't accept so I end up still holding the thing. "This, uh, I came here to submit this. I won the logo design competition and, I don't know where to put this. Let's say, I'm lost. I'm also late. This is actually the last day-" I pause. The sight of him biting the inside of his cheek distracts me. It looks familiar.
I'm still mentally beating myself up, to match the sight with something I don't think ever exists, when he, out of nowhere holds the tube in my hand through my hand—if that makes sense. His fingers start brushing my fingers like it's never his intention to touch the tube.
Then slowly, he lets his other hand caress my face, cupping my jaw.
"W..w-what a-are you doing?" I stammer.
Having physical contact with the opposite gender in this proximity, dim lighting, and beautiful view is surely scary when it's actually happening. I'm walking backwards very slowly, but it feels like in a blink my back already bumps onto something hard—wall. I bite my lip.
----
My heart skips a beat when he suddenly leans in, but stops right before he reaches my lips. I wonder if it's just him or the world really does have stopped moving and left me hanging in the middle. He does nothing but breathes that every time he exhales, I feel it on my skin—he does it a lot and it keeps getting shorter.
As if my heart is trying to follow his pace, it's started beating in a weird tempo and hurting my chest, while the walls slowly walking to our direction. They're trying to suffocate us both in such a narrow space, or he's just getting too close. He surely is.
This isn't right.
We can't be kissing without getting to know each other first, right? What does he think we are? Fishes?
He's been spending some time hesitating and trapping me with his body, but he doesn't seem to be going to end it any soon. I sigh, "I don't care about any of your shortcomings in this or whatever it is you're going through-" Talk about being a hypocrite, who said this guy was understandable and thus she felt like she could relate?
"So please, get off of me, I need to-" Go home. That's what I'm about to say before he stops me, with his lips.
