It's a very short introduction. It's set during their first kiss to start with but later will develop to tell the story of the two teens as they discover more about themselves and each other.
That just happened. Not sure what to think. Or do. Or say. Confused, very confused. Lets suppress the fact that it felt incredible and focus on the problem at hand.
My hands are still pinned down. He hasn't moved. I haven't moved. Neither of us can function. Oh great. I've just broken Connor. My eyes are locked on him. His on me. Shock is plastered over his face. Over my face. His hips have me pinned too. I'm not going anywhere though. There's nothing either of us can say. I know it: he knows it. Instead of talking he leans his head down once more. Slow. So slowly. Close. Again so tantalisingly close. I'm on auto pilot now. I tilt my head to cover the final distance between us. His lips meet mine once more. Don't get lost Jude. Careful. We part again. Just as confused. Still no words. Connor lets my hands go. His own now rest on his thighs. He's still on me. We were just play fighting. That was all. That wasn't supposed to happen. He started it though. Connor. Not me.
"Jude I...Umm…" Tension. Building. Up. His words aren't conscious; aren't sure of anything. I swallow. Amongst the anxiety is an expression that can only be thought of as confirmation. Yes they had just kissed. I'm now motionless whilst he is moving. Our once intimate proxemics now crumble to rubble. He lies away from me, I from him. Breathing.
Time seeps past but neither of us sleep. We let the tent remain in silence. Perhaps he, like I didn't want to overanalyse. We couldn't afford to loose each other. This way we could just hold onto time before things got too complicated. Eventually we'd have to talk but even now words escape me. Apparently Connor has the same issue words dancing in our minds but fading before they reach our tongues. Instead I feel the suggestive heat radiating from his hand as it ventures closer towards mine. The contact is a relief. His warm, slightly clammy hand shapes itself to my palm. I interlock my spindly fingers to his. I'm sure he can hear my heart desecrate my rib cage but we say nothing. As the dawn prowls towards us we cling desperately to the unspoken feelings. No one has to know. Not yet.