The Kiss
My first kiss. My first goddamn kiss. And it wasn't even Bobby.
I keep telling myself that it doesn't matter, that I only kissed him because it was a last resort. But there's something in my mind that's arguing. Saying that I could have just as easily brushed cheeks or noses. Didn't have to be a kiss. Un baiser.
Dammit! He was asking for it! Getting all in my face, like two inches away. His fingers... they nearly touched my forehead when he pushed away my bangs. The bastard was too cocky. He knew about my poison skin, and he knew it wasn't just in the fingers.
That was the first thing I got from him. Je le sais. I know that.
Hell. You'd think he wanted to be near my poison skin, breathing in death. So I did what he wanted. I kissed him.
Obviously, I'm not the first girl to fall into his waiting arms. So many... he must have a tally sheet somewhere. But one of them was much more than a tally mark. She'd left a real place in his heart. She didn't deserve it. Sure, she'd said she loved him. But she was naked in nearly every single memory I gleaned of her.
I can't compete with her.
Not that I want to. I mean, I've got Bobby, although with him "makin' time" with Kitty, as Remy so aptly put it (oh God. Call him Gambit!), I really don't see us... erm...
Ah hell. He was kissing her. Right in the middle of everywhere. I should've punched his lights out.
So maybe it was because of the hurt that made me kiss Re--- Gambit. Maybe I just wanted to get back at Bobby, even at the risk of jamming my head full of that Cajun frog. Ain't got rid of it yet, either.
Maybe it was 'cause he was so cocky. Can't stand that in a guy. I just wanted to wipe that smirk off of his face. Didn't succeed, though.
But maybe I kissed the bastard because I wanted to. Tired of all this can't-touch-crap, tired of celibacy, tired of giving in.
But really, who cares why I did it?
That was one hell of a first kiss.