Another Kiss

A chapter early in the book. This is part of their first weekend seeing each other face to face for the first time since they were teens.

I am enjoying this walk.  The sounds of the small nearby town hushed by the trees around us.  Bikers whiz past us oblivious to what they are missing.  Sure, they may get farther, 'see' more...but they only see the big picture.  They miss the tiny details.  They smell the honeysuckle, but miss its intoxication.   They see the foliage but miss the tiny buds of flowers yet to burst.  They see the green along the path but miss the amazing variety in shapes and sizes.  I almost forget he's next to me.  Walking with me.  This walk was his idea.  Now that I've remembered him, I can hear his steady breathing.  Feel his arm brush against mine.  I fight the urge to put space between us.   I still haven't digested the events from last night, much less this morning.  Just as strong is the urge to grab him, shake him, demand he tell me what game he is playing.  To be fair, I don't think he intends this to be a game.  I am certain he is as lost as I am.

This morning.

I smile at the the memory.  I can almost taste the odd mixture of sweat and breakfast that was on his lips.  He started that one.  I don't care what he says otherwise, that kiss is all on him. 

"What are you smiling about?" he asks while slowing down.

Damn.  He caught me.  I try to sound cool as I say, "Oh, um, nothing really.  Just enjoying the walk."  I see him digest this and thankfully he decides not to call my bluff.  Just as I start to walk again he touches my arm.  My heart jumps, the stupid thing.  I turn thinking maybe he'll do it again.  Take my breath away with his own, despite his assertions this morning that it had been a mistake. 

Instead, he has his finger to his lips telling me to be quiet and then points into the woods.  I hear it before I see it.  Bleating like only an infant animal can.  It's a tiny, tiny fawn.  Still not used to it's legs.   It's on the side of a creek separating it from its mother.  She waits and I can sense her impatience born from fear.  I watch the drama unfold as the fawn steps into the creek and is swept over by a mild current.  I silently plea for it to swim, to fight, to survive.

 

---

 

He had started out watching the doe and her fawn.  Until he made the mistake of glancing in her direction.  He was captivated at her own captivation.  He knows for a fact this is likely the 100th pair of doe-young she's seen.  It's part of their shared childhood.  And yet...she's enraptured as if this scene is something completely new.  He stifles a chuckle when she gasps at the fawn stumbling.  He stops breathing as she does but not out of concern for the fawn.  He can't breathe from the feeling inside him.  He wasn't going to do this.  He swore to himself he wasn't going to care.  Not like this.  Not now.  Not ever again.

And yet...he can't stop himself.  He can't look away.  Can't resist the urge to move closer.  To see what she sees in the same way she sees it.  To understand her.  To be with her in such a way.

He can tell from her expression that the fawn has been reunited with its mother.  The joy is childlike.  Pure.  Deep.  Real.  She turns, presumably to exclaim about the scene that she just witnessed, but instead he puts both hands on either side of her face and kisses her again.  Kisses her longer than he even meant to, forcing himself to ignore the blasted bikers whizzing by and likely gawking.  Ignoring the fear he can't quite keep completely at bay.  This woman is getting to him and he knows it.  The feel of her hands on his chest, the smell of her shampoo as her hair blows around them, the taste of her mouth; all of them stain his senses with beauty and need. 

When he finally pulls away, she says, "What was that for?"  She's smiling.  Glowing.  All that crap you see in movies and think is just that- crap- until you see it yourself.

"It's getting to be a bad habit of mine, this kissing you.  I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry.  Bad habits are hard to break," she smiles that coy smile of hers.  It's coy, that's true, but it's also real.  Genuine.  She's not playing a game with him.  He knows it, most of the time anyway.  It's a shyness in her.  A gentleness. 

To hell with it, he thinks, and puts his arms around her waist, draws her up against him.  As she weaves her hands together at the nape of his neck, he leans in until their lips are barely touching.

"I think this is one bad habit I'll have to live with."

And he kisses her smiling lips once again.

Reviews

[Joshua Donahue]

It is a really great read for romance lovers! I enjoyed the vivid details and the gentleness in your words. Very touching. But I have a few suggestion....Turn the first paragraph into a prologue. And if you do that, take out the remembrance of the bikers by the male character when the story is in his point of view. But other than that, it's really great! Hope you continue this! And in the next chapter, start giving a little info on our two main characters and why the male character is troubled at loving the female. But don't give too much info. :) Love it!

[Repressed Writer]

@Joshua- thanks for the feedback! I guess I didn't make it clear in the notes...this isn't the first chapter in the book. I don't write in order and I often don't 'want' feedback in order (if that makes sense). Hopefully some of what you suggested would be 'fixed' by reading the earlier chapters that I have yet to post.

Thanks, again. I do really appreciate the feedback.

[A-Lovely-Anxiety]

It's nice. I like the tone of it, and the soft power underneath it. Can't wait for more!