The Things About Her
I've always had a thing for you, even when I was the toughest son-of-a-bitch around. At first you were just this small teenager that I rescued at her Quinceañera. Now every time I see you I have to do a double take.
Taz, my god. When you walk into a room I can't help but marvel at you. At your choppy black hair beneath the red bandanna that I gave you. At your dark, chocolate eyes. The way the corners of your lips are almost always turned down.
You try so hard to look tough. Your boots, your tank top, your dog tags. Everyone knows you're small, but also that you can kick their ass.
You yell at me when I stare, usually in Spanish. But I can't help it. I can't help but wonder about your body, Taz. The subtle curves that I doubt others notice. You expect me not to stare?
xxx
"Hey, Up!"
Her voice made him snap out of his thoughts.
"What is it, Taz?" Up replied, innocently.
She smirked, "No te hagas el tonto."
He barely understood her words, but knew what she meant, "Sorry, Taz." He couldn't help but smile. She looked beautiful, and he was so lucky to be sitting next to her on the couch, just relaxing.
She ran her bare feet against his playfully. He shook his head at her disapprovingly.
"You scold me and then you do that?" Up said, his eyebrows arched.
"Oops. Guess you're right." She shrugged.
Suddenly, impulsively, Up leaned forward and gave Taz a gentle kiss on the lips. When he drew back, he saw her flushed cheeks. He saw that she didn't plan to punch him.
"Oops?" He suggested, and they laughed nervously.
Two things I forgot to mention. He thought. Her laugh, and the surprising softness of her lips.