Sometimes I wonder what if it'll be like that, kissing you, would it be like the romantic story kind? Would my heart beat faster than I can breathe? Would it be like kissing the sun because all you do is soak it up? When you play with the pets, kick the ball around, tend the garden, do you taste like the Earth? Or do you taste like onions from the Spanish omelette you ate this morning?
You and your goddamn omelette, I told you the onion would scare all the pretty ladies away. But you were so persistent, with your eagerness and stupid babbling, I had no other choice. I didn't eat it for you though, I ate it to shut you up; you licked your lips too much.
Lips, I've always imagine them to be rough, not smooth like the girls liked to believe. Rough but gentle. Dry, rough lips that should be taken care of before they start peeling. You look so stupid when you try to make me laugh with them, so stupid I had to laugh. Those lips, the things you do with those lips, the things you can do with those lips.
Goddamnit, kiss me already, kiss me you dense bastard, I don't want to keep waiting. It's been a month, I've waited long enough.
"Lovi, Lovi are you still sleeping?"
"Fuck off Antonio."
"Oh, I see, you are. I'll wake you up for lunch later than!"
"Yeah, yeah."
You close the door. You Idiot.