Love

“So…how many guys have you kissed again?”
I smiled amused by the question; he and I both knew the exact answer.
“One.”
I felt him smile against my neck, “lucky guy,” he mused.
The past week has been like a dream. That’s all I can say. I had so much doubt that this would never happen. I’d wanted it for a entire year. In some ways, an entire year is an incredible time to be waiting. Yet in other ways, it’s so short!
He likes me, a lot.
It’s kind of hard to digest that. That this is happening and every moment without him is spent thinking about him. It makes me beyond happy.
The way his skin feels against mine. The way he makes it tingle in all the right places. It’s so comforting and it feels so right.
Every moment I’m scared of losing that. Every moment I get scared that, I’m going to do something wrong and he’ll walk out and maybe we’d never even talk to each other again. It’s an unbearable thought.
I think he’s gorgeous. Even if a lot of people don’t like him. I know him better than that anyway.
I never imagined it would be like this. Now I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to expect. I will never, ever forget.
I looked into his dark brown eyes, then at his lips. He looked back and me patiently and I smiled. I ran my hand gently through his auburn coloured hair pulling his face closer, my nose briefly brushing his, then our lips met.
Kissing and kissing again.
Then his head rested against my neck. “I like you,” he whispered again.
“I like you a lot,” I whispered.
He chuckled, “silly girl.”
I smiled at him entwining my fingers with his.
As if it were a dream.