Too Close [Wattys2015]

Chapter 29: Flip Flops

"Okay," he said. "Favorite thing to . . .drink?"

I grin. "The hot chocolate made by the one-"

"And only-" he cuts me off.

"Get Away Delights." I return the favor, cutting him off also.

"Mine is the same." He laughs.

"I figured as much." I said, scooting up higher on the old, rust car.

I looked down at the rusty part of the car. "We should carve something in this car," I suddenly said.

He scoots up closer to me. "Why?"

I shrug. "Because it can be our own little thing here, so people will see it and think 'I wonder who those people are and what was their life story?'"

He pulls me closer to him, kissing my forehead. "Okay, do you have a key or anything?"

I pull one out of my back pocket, which I always had one in just in case. He grabbed it and started carving something in the car.

"What are you-" I stop when he hushes me. So I watch him carve something into the old, dusty car. The way his head is bent, eyebrows knitted together in concentration and his lips slightly pursed.

He stops, looking at me. "Why are you watching me?"

Well that wasn't supposed to happen. He was just supposed to jeep carving whatever he was carving. But no, of course, it didn't work that way.

"Uh, um. . I'm watching you carve whatever you are carving into the car. . " I stammer, blinking.

He smirks. "Sure, sure." He turns back and finishes the carving. When he's done he beckons for me to look. It says: Our Little Forever C&B

"C&B?" I wrinkle my nose in confusion. He leans forward, slowly kissing my nose.

"Cupcake," he kisses my forehead. "And butt hurt jerk."

I laugh. "Wow."

"What?" He asks, pulling away to look at my face.

"I guess you really do like that nickname." We join hands, laying on the car- kind of.

"Just like I really like you." He mutters. I don't think he wanted me to hear that.

"What?" I ask.

"Nothing." He say quickly. "Don't worry about it."

I grin mischievously. "I'll only not worry about it if I get a kiss." I use his choice of words when we were in detention.

He smirks. "That can be arranged." He uses what I had said and I laugh.

When I stop laughing we are silent. He is rubbing his finger across the words he carved in the old car in this junkyard.

"Wait," I said. "Aren't we trespassing?"

He chuckles, looking at me. I grin a little. "Well are we?"

Instead of answering, he cups the side of my face and he leans a little downwards. Our noses touch, breathing mingling together.

His breath did not smell like mint or water or muffin. It didn't reek- which I really hope my didn't- it smelled simply like him.

My hands were slowly moving to his arms just as he leaned down for our lips to connect, at first soft. His lips were extremely soft, but he could make his soft lips forceful and demanding.