Well, sitting bored on a lone, cold, snowy Wednesday evening at around 6:00 PM I decided to start a... drabble thing. Yes.
And it's going to be mushy and disgustingly sappy.
But so what! I'm allowed to be a pathetic, hopeless little fangirl too!
...oh?
What's that you're saying? "DIGIMON?" YES! Digimon! For Ken and Daisuke own you and me and our lone two cents in our pockets.
But I don't own them. So no sueing.
He's Keeping Me Afloat
Lips.
His lips.
I see them very closely now.
Why do they seem so intriguing all of a sudden? I'm telling myself to lift my head and meet his gaze, but the permanent, heated blush tugging at my cheeks is weighing me down. Those lips… they're smiling, he's laughing. He's laughing at me and I'm scared. Why am I scared? He isn't afraid of anything. I shouldn't be, either. I feel powerless as I sit in front of him. My darkened room feels giant and cold. I can feel my fingers curling around the blanket neatly tucked into the mattress beneath us. He's laughing quietly and his gaze is soft. I can feel it.
The mattress bounces lightly and I feel him shift. He's closer, now, and he's saying things that I can't hear. What's he saying? I can't listen. What's wrong with my ears? Maybe I need to see a doctor because I have been acting strangely lately. Around him, at least. Wow, maybe he has a disease? No, no, illnesses aren't repetitive. They don't come and go when you leave the host's presence.
Then what is this? A so-called genius should know more about psychology… I should be able to pinpoint exactly what I'm feeling! But no, I can't. He's so very close now and those lips are parted as his words slowly fade. I can feel pressure at both sides of me. His hands, they're resting against the mattress on either side of my crossed legs. We're both sitting in the same position, yet I feel so alien. He's so close, so very close… What's he doing? The pressure leaves my right side. He's smiling. His right hand is lingering near my forehead and I can feel my eyes widen as tanned fingers so very lightly brush the stray violent strands to my temple and then retract to fall at my side again.
I suck in a quick gasp of a breath, quietly. He only smiles wider. Those lips… Why do I continue to stare at those lips, at his lips? But in an instant, I can no longer stare at them. They're too close to my own, out of my field of vision. His breath tingles my own lips as he pauses in his movements, deep, honest brown eyes staring intently into my own. My own fully visible violets due to my state of surprise cannot leave his gaze, entranced, trapped…
And then his lips are on mine.
The connection is light, feather-light, and he is cautious for once. Too cautious. And then I understand. I understand that he's keeping me afloat.
And then my lips are on his.
