Pull Out My Insides

After our short conversation ends a few minutes later, we get out of the car and walk around for a little bit, trying to find a good place to settle down. Once we find said place, Zara sets down a picnic blanket that I never even noticed that she was carrying and invites me to sit down alongside her with her hands. I reluctantly agree, though not using any words. The sun starts to slowly descend in the sky and she turns her head towards me.

“I know you may still be pissed about me buying you those clothes…” she starts, leaving me time to agree or disagree with her, and I agreed with a crisp nod. “But, I guess we’re friends… and friends do things for friends… so get your panties out of a wad and enjoy that you have newish clothes,” she finishes a moment later.

I just emit a small sigh and nod. “Fine.”

She gives me a small smile. “Good.”

As she turns her head back to the sunset, the descend is nearing to the finale of its slow, steady fall and the contrasting unity makes her red hair even redder, her beautiful face even more gorgeous, her green eyes even more emerald, her plump, pink lips even pinker and plumper and even more kissable. All I want to do is kiss her; all I can think about is kissing her. But I can’t. She’s just within my reach, yet just out of my reach. I’m sure of many things, but one thing that I’m not sure of is what would happen if I kissed Zara Randall. So once the sun finally reaches its last look of this day, the moon comes out to replace its fallen friend and causes a similar reaction to the exquisiteness of Zara, how the moonlight shines on her hair and her eyes, causing her lips to turn up slightly in the ghost of a smile as the light of the full moon dances in her eyes. God, she’s so beautiful.

After a few minutes of sitting in a comfortable silence and memorizing Zara’s every move, every breath, I can’t help it anymore. I lean over slowly and as she turns her head, it puts me in the perfect position to do what I’ve wanted to do ever since I met her. I kiss her.

And God, do I kiss her. As soon as my lips meet her incredibly soft ones, my kisses become even hungrier, more intimate. Just as soon as I’m about to pull away from her, she grabs my hair tightly and starts to kiss me back just as urgently and passionately. But a few moments later, we reluctantly pull away, gasping for air of the world around us, needing. Needing air, needing each other, needing ourselves. Just as soon as we pull away, we’re pushed back together by the tides of our desire, like a wave. Push, pull, push, pull. An eternal wave, eternal tide. Pulling us away just to push us together again.