Acting On Love

"You know what?" Ville asked quietly as he parked his car near the university. We'd finished his birthday meal about 15 or so minutes ago. I had been a bit sceptical about him driving, but he assured me that he was only a little 'tipsy'. He'd driven us fine enough, though, so he must have been right.

"Screw it," he said with a grin. "I don't want to have to avoid you during the day. . . If I have to see you sitting alone at lunch one more time, then I'll sit with you. If I pass you in the corridor, I'll smile and stop to talk to you. And if anyone's around when I do, I'll kiss you the moment they turn their back."

I laughed quietly, looking through the dark that I would be forced to walk through later. But I couldn't help but picture the scene - Ville stopping to talk to me outside. . . A few students passing by us. . . The second they're gone, our lips uniting. . . I could almost feel his lips on mine.

I turned to look at him, snapping myself out of the fantasy. "But, Ville. . . You know we can't," I sighed.

He scowled to himself and sighed as well. Then he propped his elbow up on the slight window ledge of the car and put his fingers to his mouth in thought. He stared out into the night. He said nothing more.

"Do you mind if I ask what brought this sudden idea on?" I asked, trying to keep the conversation going, to break up whatever he was thinking or planning.

His eyes stayed still, looking intently at the glass and what lay behind it. He began to smile. The smiled was only limited, though. It quickly began to disappear. He gulped.

"What would you do. . . If I told you that I love you?" he asked calmly.

I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I had not been expecting this - at all. But a strong, overwhelming feeling passed over me then. I think that must have been the purest feeling of happiness I'd ever felt. He turned to look at me, his face completely still.

"I think you already did," I said quietly, entranced by him.

He laughed slightly. "Kristen. . ." he said, seriously. Then he looked into my eyes with the full force of his, and waited. I knew what he was waiting for. And I could feel the words rising in me, ready to complete that fairy-tale moment.

"I love you, too," I said quickly. My voice sounded so urgent, even to me. The words sounded so emphasised, as if I'd been desperate to say them. I'd never said them outloud before now. . . but how could I have not seen it before. . .?

A sudden eruption of passion seemed to escape from both of us. One moment he had been in his seat, and the next, his hands were on my cheeks, in my hair, and our lips were fighting the battle for dominance. My hands ran through his hair, his lovely, wavy hair. It was like silk, so soft and delicate. I slowed down my hands, afraid of damaging the precious strands. And his skin was even softer still. I didn't want to take my hands away; I didn't want him to stop kissing me.

And those lips. . . they were more luscious than any fruit I'd ever tasted. Nothing had tasted so good on my lips or on my tongue. I wanted him. I wanted all of him. I lowered my hands, down to the sides of his chest and brought our bodies together more. The awkwardness of being in his car wasn't good for a moment like that, but nothing could compare to that feeling of complete and utter desire, longing and happiness. Anything felt possible in that moment - I felt like our love was strong enough to overthrow an empire, or powerful enough to reach into the sky and destroy the clouds which separated heaven from earth. We could do anything - we were in love.

Slowly, he began to take his lips away from mine. But I chased after them, feeling their taste leave me. As I leaned in against him, he gently pushed against my chest, enough so our lips did part. He rested his forehead against mine as he gasped for breath.

"Who needs a heaven?" he whispered. "You are my heaven tonight."

He swept his lips across mine once again, with as much passion as before. I wasn't sure how long we went on for like this, but nothing seemed like enough. Eventually he said the words.

"You should go. . ." he whispered, his eyes still closed. He held my arms in his gentle hands.

"No," I objected in a whisper. "I just want to stay here all night. With you."

He smirked, the tip of his nose brushing against my cheek. His eyes were still closed.

"I've got a plan. . ." he whispered. "Go back to the halls, but don't go to sleep. Just wait. . ."

I was confused. But that didn't matter. "I will wait," I vowed.

"Good," he smiled, kissing me once more, only quickly. "Go," he said quickly, smiling. I opened up the door. As soon as I slipped out of his arms and into the night, I already felt different. Perhaps even incomplete. He was still smiling at me warmly as I closed the door behind me.

Who would have thought three words could change so much in a relationship? It felt like we'd been reborn - like every little feeling from before had been magnified spectacularly. And I loved it.