Disclaimer: I own nothing.
iLike Puberty
Freddie is talking about some bogus technical computer blabbity-blah, but I could seriously care less. I'm nodding my head like I understand and I hear what he's saying, but I'm not really processing any of the information. I'm just listening without listening.
You would too, if you hear his voice!
It's deep and rich and dark like a good chocolate bar. Maybe even better, which, trust me, is not an overstatement, even coming from me.
Lately, I ask him stupid questions that I know the answer to, but require a large amount of explaining, just so I can hear his voice. No joke.
Staring at those lips, I can feel my hormones beginning to rage. Those lips that control his voice…
And those eyes, deep chocolate, just like his voice…
And his ruffled, boyish-cute hair…
And that smile on hip face when he talks about something he cares about…
And all I'm thinking is that I want him to have that smile on his face when he's talking about me.
And about how much I want to kiss him.
So I do it. I cut him off mid-sentence (which is a shame all in itself) and kiss him right on the lips, he responds after a moment.
"Sam, why did you-" He starts, but stops, looking at me kinda scared. I smirk and raise an eyebrow, licking my lips.
He tastes like chocolate too.
"I really like puberty."
--
A response to Freddie's new man-voice.
-Freakers