I went in for the quick-kiss-and-run idea. I did as I wanted—it was too slow in reality than in my mind. Oops. He grabbed me faster than I could get away. I tried, even thought I knew it was useless in his strong grip. I stopped and looked at him. Instead of bopping me on the mouth as I thought, he just stared into my eyes. I couldn't look away. I felt like a fireplace, even in the cold, freezing air. I could feel my legs shake and tears began to fall. What was happening to me? I could see worry in his eyes, he didn't flinch. He reached for my shirt. Oh my God, not here. Again to my surprise, he pulled me inside. I was still tearing up, but I think it was worth it from where this was going.
I was beginning to wonder where exactly WAS this going? He looked like he didn't know what he was doing, pacing in my kitchen. I was still standing by the door from where he let go of my shirt. I think it was falling off, I gave it no attention. I was so confused it wasn't even funny. Finally, he looked at me. It looked sharp, but not quite angry, a little worried even. He didn't say a thing.
He walked up to me and jumped me to the ground. I swear he was having mood swings because his eyes looked ashamed and bashful this time. Then, his lips met mine. I felt so faint I could've died right then and there. Who knows why it didn't, it could've been the fact that he was REACHING IN MY POCKET. I quickly grabbed his hand when I found out what he was doing. I gave him a glare.
He dropped my wallet and quicker than lightning grabbed my upper torso.
