Status: I guess this isn't going to be a short story.
Love In Paris
Love In Paris
I don't ever want to forget yesterday. There was no heat in the air. Just an overcast sky and snow falling to stick to the trees and the grass, and we could see our breath. They wouldn't let him stay inside, but that's okay because they don't monitor outside the brick walls. It was a balcony attached like a pimple to the building, and we climbed the short hill to the stairs to get to it. He was here for one thing: my lips, but even though I wanted his lips too I still wanted him there for more than that. He means a lot to me. And maybe I mean a lot to him too, but I didn't want to get my hopes up for that. He was just 19 and I was just 16 and even though we had our obstacles we made the world make sense when it was just the two of us there. Sure, this may sound cliche, but it was perfect and effortless to be with him. I was nervous when he looked at me that way with his very clear eyes, every detail in them were precise, staring straight through me. Plus, he smirked because he knew what he was doing. He was making my insides jumble and scramble.
Back when I was a freshman and he was a senior about two years ago I didn't feel this way for him, but he was still my blue haired friend and we had this little poking war going on where I'd poke him and shout "I win!" But he would retaliate by poking me back and I had lost, and it would go back and forth like that forever. So in an attempt to bring those good memories back I poked him in the stomach and ran all the way up the stairs into the little balcony and he slowly followed behind, ready to get me back. He had cornered me into the wall and leaned in close and I just couldn't give into him that yet so I stalled, adverting my eyes away from him, making sure his lips couldn't touch mine just yet.
I was teasing him and he knew it. Maybe it had been a little innocent, and maybe it hadn't, because our intentions were to take the lick of the icing off the cake before we could fully give ourselves to each other. It was a tiny taste. Soon though he had me against the wall again after we'd just continued to talk and poke at each others stomach, moving around the balcony, when I let him kiss me and it was easy. It was also simple and even though I had been ten months out of practice it didn't feel that way.
I was wearing a heavy coat when he wasn't, but unlike him I was pretty much cold blooded and I was freezing, but against him the cold meant nothing. His fingers were pretty cold compared to the rest of him, and I let them slip up my shirt and touch my stomach and my sides and all it did was give me those good kind of goosebumps. I leaned in, we kissed again, and we stayed this way for the remaining time of the lunch period.
Yet, just before the first bell rang and he'd have to leave and I had to go back to class we sat on the cold, concrete steps and looked out over the neighborhood to the west. A congestion of bare trees and a few evergreens hid most of the rooftops of the houses, the hilltop bank on the horizon was sticking out like a sore thumb against this white winterland, and for the first time in my life I knew I had nothing to worry about. It was the feeling that was so real without any uncertainty that I could even feel it in my bones.
"For most of my life its always been back and fourth between Colorado Springs and Glenrock, and up until the middle of 3rd grade my parents finally decided to move us to Casper," Where I currently live. I had told him I hadn't had much of a place to really ground myself, and finally after moving here, to Casper, I had that place. He didn't really love or hate Casper, but I had a connection here. Although I had just lost another piece of my heart days before (and no one could say my best friend would come around, because he never will), all I need was Nick and Casper and that beat stuck in my head and I was set for life.
The bell rang and we stood, and as I placed my backpack strap on my shoulder he leaned down and we kissed one last time before he lead me to my last class with my hand in his (only because I had asked). I recall yesterday and realized that entire 50 minute period we spent with each other was practical, like we had been doing this forever and yet it still felt new at the same time.
The inside of the building was obviously warm, and my fingers rejoiced, but they had to let him go and with reluctance to let this end we embraced. One last look he disappeared down the hall, out the door, and I sat down and couldn't keep my head straight for the rest of the day.
Back when I was a freshman and he was a senior about two years ago I didn't feel this way for him, but he was still my blue haired friend and we had this little poking war going on where I'd poke him and shout "I win!" But he would retaliate by poking me back and I had lost, and it would go back and forth like that forever. So in an attempt to bring those good memories back I poked him in the stomach and ran all the way up the stairs into the little balcony and he slowly followed behind, ready to get me back. He had cornered me into the wall and leaned in close and I just couldn't give into him that yet so I stalled, adverting my eyes away from him, making sure his lips couldn't touch mine just yet.
I was teasing him and he knew it. Maybe it had been a little innocent, and maybe it hadn't, because our intentions were to take the lick of the icing off the cake before we could fully give ourselves to each other. It was a tiny taste. Soon though he had me against the wall again after we'd just continued to talk and poke at each others stomach, moving around the balcony, when I let him kiss me and it was easy. It was also simple and even though I had been ten months out of practice it didn't feel that way.
I was wearing a heavy coat when he wasn't, but unlike him I was pretty much cold blooded and I was freezing, but against him the cold meant nothing. His fingers were pretty cold compared to the rest of him, and I let them slip up my shirt and touch my stomach and my sides and all it did was give me those good kind of goosebumps. I leaned in, we kissed again, and we stayed this way for the remaining time of the lunch period.
Yet, just before the first bell rang and he'd have to leave and I had to go back to class we sat on the cold, concrete steps and looked out over the neighborhood to the west. A congestion of bare trees and a few evergreens hid most of the rooftops of the houses, the hilltop bank on the horizon was sticking out like a sore thumb against this white winterland, and for the first time in my life I knew I had nothing to worry about. It was the feeling that was so real without any uncertainty that I could even feel it in my bones.
"For most of my life its always been back and fourth between Colorado Springs and Glenrock, and up until the middle of 3rd grade my parents finally decided to move us to Casper," Where I currently live. I had told him I hadn't had much of a place to really ground myself, and finally after moving here, to Casper, I had that place. He didn't really love or hate Casper, but I had a connection here. Although I had just lost another piece of my heart days before (and no one could say my best friend would come around, because he never will), all I need was Nick and Casper and that beat stuck in my head and I was set for life.
The bell rang and we stood, and as I placed my backpack strap on my shoulder he leaned down and we kissed one last time before he lead me to my last class with my hand in his (only because I had asked). I recall yesterday and realized that entire 50 minute period we spent with each other was practical, like we had been doing this forever and yet it still felt new at the same time.
The inside of the building was obviously warm, and my fingers rejoiced, but they had to let him go and with reluctance to let this end we embraced. One last look he disappeared down the hall, out the door, and I sat down and couldn't keep my head straight for the rest of the day.