At age eighteen (after shorting the buildings main grid over one single kiss with the man that wanted to watch the world and us burn) the first words, no longer filled with childish slurs, to me in years came from her smirking glossy pink lips, 'I always knew you were full of cautionary tales.'
'And you were always full of blue lightning and Mr. Slush-O, El.'
Her first kiss (on pink unaging lips that found hers with the same need) wasn't enough for either of them as their eyes watched like hawks ('But daddy!' no Elle, not going to happen, ever.') so she came to me a teenager that just caught the hormone bug and with her that meant disastrous events.
She pointed her gussied up lips at me and 'kiss me' was all she ever said to me 'kiss me or die.'.
"El, all you had to do was ask nicely. (plus I hate the way he eyes you, like you have 'property of Adam' stamped on your forehead)."
"And, Noah what would be your answer if you didn't have your death hanging over you?"
The first time he brought her in ('this is my daughter, Elle, Noah' now way can't I believe that?) as she grew into everything that she is now, showing it off with her lips in kissing form, I thought she would just be the opposite of my Claire-Bear, but I was so very wrong.
"No and with the threat it's still very much no, sorry kid, call me when you grow up and then you'll get that kiss."
-
Six years go like flashes (look here this was just yesterday when your little Claire loved you, now look at you) filled with the same things over and over again, family and work (that fills up all of the days and weeks, like a flood) until this year when it all went down in flames and all I could do was get burned.
"Hey you."
"Does your daddy know your out and about, El?"
I stop myself from thinking it's been too long (I hate her and what she stands for, I have to hate her) when she pulls me into the kiss that I owed from so long ago, and like everything else it ends in pain.
"I came to collect, I never forget promises, Noah."
