A/N: Yes, I am still alive. Sorry, you had to wait so long for an update. But you know, it's the usual really. Lots of work mixed with a small writers block. Plus, I always find it hard to write a Palex-story, when there's actual Palex-action on tv. I have a difficult time concentrating on my story, when the story on t.v. is so different. With that said; yay for Degrassi dedicating 5 of the last 6 epi's to them. I swear I felt, like a reading a series of (PG-rated) good fanfics.
Anyway, hope you'll like it. There's something in it, that a lot of people have been waiting for so read it! Keep reviewing my precious, precious friends and see you next time!
"What were you like when you were little?"
We were lying next to each other on my bed, staring at the bland ceiling above us. There was no way that I was going to let her go back to her place, after my little discovery earlier hat day. She was against it. Naturally. But I couldn't let her go back. I wouldn't let her go back. And even if I knew deep down inside that I won't be able to protect her from her demons at all times, I knew that she'd at least be safely in my arms tonight. And for now, that was more than enough.
"Small." She stated simply.
"Well, you're awfully descriptive today."
"Just telling it how it is."
"A little more details please." I urged playfully.
"I had freckles. Lots of them." She revealed.
"Oh God."
"What?"
"I'm trying to picture you, Alex Nuñez, with freckles." I giggled.
"Thank you, for reminding me why I do not talk about my childhood."
"Oh no, don't stop! I'm sorry, I was just curious. I bet you were the cutest kid on the block. Attitude included." I chuckled lightly.
"You got that right." She scoffed.
I loved this side of her. Actually, I loved all of her sides. But the playful and light-hearted one wasn't always a part of her appearance. That smile, that laugh. When I'd see it, hear it, even feel it … I melted. There wasn't anything more heavenly then her happiness. It's a shame that she could barely express it. I had to change that. Not change her. Because I wouldn't dare to do that. In fact, I'd probably hate myself if I did. I just needed to bring it out more. I just need to make her content. I keep her like that.
That was the hardest part. Keeping her happy.
"I wish, I knew you back then." I whispered, while taking her hand in mine.
"Why?" she questioned while deepening the contact, by interlacing her fingers through mine. I still had to get used, to her voluntary touch. It still excited and surprised me to no end. Or maybe it was supposed to stay that way?
"I don't know. I feel like a missed an eternity not being with you ."
"You'd hate me though."
"It isn't because we hated each other through high school, that we would've hated each other as kids too." I said as I instinctively rolled my eyes.
"You know those girly girls, that would act all Princes-y all the time, prancing around in pink tutu's?" She asked.
"Yes …" I responded pensively.
"And you know those mean kids who'll push them in the mud for no reason, just to ruin their clothes and see them cry?" She continued.
"Yeah …"
"Well, you'd be the tutu-girl and I'd be the mean bully."
"Damn, I would've hated you."
"Told you." She laughed.
We kept laying there, eyes now closed and hands still clasped enjoying each others presence.
"Alex?"
"Hmm."
"What was your first kiss like?"
"What's with the flashback-questions?"
"Nothing, I just want to get to know you better." I explained.
"I'll tell, if you'll tell yours first."
"Okay, uhm. I was nine and me and my friends were playing hide and seek. I had my eyes closed and was counting, while the rest of them were hiding when suddenly I felt a pair lips on me. I opened my eyes and there was Kevin Deans aka the glue-eating-guy smiling smugly at me. I swear, I literally washed my mouth with soap cause I thought I was going to die an awful and slow death of coochitis."
"Ever the drama-queen I see." She chortled lightly.
"Just keepin' it real. Now. Your turn." I insisted, before she'd change her mind.
"God, is this going turn into one of those 'share-a-stupid-secret'-slumberparties?"
"Yes. Now, spill." I said, as I brought her hand to my mouth and softly kissed it before returning it in back between our resting bodies.
"I was 8 when my best friend back then, asked me if I ever had kissed someone. I told him I didn't and he told me he didn't either. He then asked me if I wanted to feel how it felt and I told him I did. And he took that as his cue to kiss me."
"And then …"
"And then I punched him." She shrugged.
"Huh, why?" I let out, genuinely confused.
"I said I wanted to know how it felt, I didn't say 'jump on me and make me feel it'. Besides he was an awful kisser. Bastard totally ruined my first kiss." She grunted humorously.
A few silent minutes passed again and I've never felt any more comfortable, with anyone as I was with her right then. She was my soothing calmness.
My restful comfort.
"Alex?"
"Hmm"
"I want to kiss you again." I whispered.
"Me too." She responded, even more silently.
A beat.
"They why don't we?" I enquired curiously.
"I don't know …"
"Should we try or …"
"I don't want to kiss you now."
"Oh." I let out disappointed
"No, it's like not that. I just … I don't want to kiss you on cue. I want it to be spontaneous and unexpected, not calculated and forced."
I let her clarification linger in my head for a few moment, before I came up with a conclusion of my own.
"You know, for a badass, you're a total softie."
"I am not." She countered half-offended, half-amused.
"Yes, you are."
"I'll kick your ass if I want to."
"Then why don't you?" I challenged.
"I don't wanna." Was her lame response.
"Softie." I teased.
"Shut up." She said as she lifted herself lightly and hovered above me.
"Hi, I'm Alex Nuñez, and I'm softie." I continued taunting her, while mimicking her tone.
"I swear Michealchuck, stop it or you're gonna regret it." She threatened while pointing at me with her finger.
"Oh yeah? What are you going to do Nu-"
And suddenly her lips were on mine. Those same luscious, tender and soft lips I've been craving for weeks. The lips that I couldn't get out of my head, no matter how much I tried. The lips I couldn't stop staring at whenever we were engaged in a conversation. No matter how hostile or sweet the words were she spoke, I always ended up envying them. I envied them because they got to roll over her slick tongue and slip through those sweet, moist lips. You're probably thinking that I'm mad, for envying shapeless words. But you wouldn't possibly understand my feelings and sentiments. Not as long as you actually see what I see, and feel what I feel. No description will ever be worthy of her beauty.
Was I mad?
I don't know.
The kiss was tender and sweet, and pleasantly rough all at the same time. Just like her.
Lips barely brushing each other. It was almost as if we were whispering our deepest emotions and declaring our sweetest love through each others mouths. This wasn't just a kiss. This was the beginning of our love story. This was the end of our past lives. The end of her agony. The end of my judgemental self.
This was our unifying pact.
She parted her lips from mine, urging me to kiss her back. Challenging me to give in to this oblivion, this dream. She was asking me a question, and begging me for a response. I urgently pulled her down to me again and reconnected our lips. They moved on an accord of their own, with a sense of urgency and passion. She pressed herself into me and I swear I've never felt any more alive than at that moment. I couldn't take it anymore. I had to feel her. Touch her. Taste her. I've waiting so long for this. But not too long.
Just enough.
I needed this time. She needed this time. We weren't just any other girl in each other eyes. She was mine, and I was hers.
My tongue slid out of my mouth and tasted those perfect lips. I heard some faint moans and heavy breathing in the background. Not knowing for sure, who it belonged too. Not that it mattered, since at that point, we were one. She opened her mouth ever so slightly, just enough for my tongue to slip in that warm cave of hers. Our tongues danced to the sweetest of serenades, discovering and re-discovering each other over and over again. Only parting when left completely breathless. Her damp forehead was pressed onto mine, my eyes closed. Afraid to open them and look into hers. Afraid to grasp the intensity and importance of this situation.
There really was no turning back. This was it. I slowly fluttered my eyes, and found hers already open wide. Dreamily gazing into mine with those chestnut brown pools. That's when I knew. I was so painfully sure, and I asked myself again;
Was I mad?
God, no.
Just madly in love.