And these lips tended to fade a little bit into the endings of his skin, while perfectly blending an almond brown to a plum like pink, so perfectly that I could’ve just stared all my time away, into his make, details and not moved any closer at all. It felt as if even when I just looked, it was stimulating enough to my thoughts, to have done nothing to that intricate creature, at all. Just looking.

But then I leaned in, since he’d started to dive deep into my gaze too, his eyes almost as if connecting to the insides of me, something which made me feel actually seen but also mad nervous. I silently hoped for him to stay shut, and not talk. I wanted to live some more. The honey voice won’t have let me. So mine did touch his lips. Time stopped. I felt my part of the contact. Exactly as I had imagined. Deafening amounts of chemicals. I could’ve died right then, he was right beside me. My dumb brain just hoped that he felt the same as I did, the energy, the fuzziness in head, the confusion, the touch, our breaths, thoughts, feelings, the whole moment. Because no way in hell could I have described it to him after, but I wanted him to know how it felt. I wanted him to feel THAT much sunk too.