I looked down at my hand that seemly had a mind of it's own. I thought for a moment that maybe, if it had a brain; if somehow the nucleus of each cell in my hand, my whole body, thought for itself, life would be somehow easier because everybody else's hand would be doing exactly what they pleased and, if it made a mistake, it wouldn't solely be my fault. I wouldn't be blamed.
I reached out towards him. Him, oh, Ash; Ash with the hair as black as the darkest night in Winter that shone as Venus would amongst the trillions of stars flung upon into the galaxy, a million miles away. Like a living personification of the peaceful night that descended upon us day after day, he was constant. Like in Maths, where direct proportions involve having another number – another being – on the opposite side of the alpha sign, to make it right, to give it a title; a meaning.
That was like us. We were the Maths equation that you have slaved over and given hours to, desperately trying to cram the knowledge into your head. We are that complicatedly worded question that you've had to ask your teacher, tutor; a specialist, to work out because it's too much for you.
But that's okay, because you could extract the answer from your teacher, your tutor, and your guardian. I couldn't.
The times that I have fantasised about us are endless; the thoughts that have almost accidentally-on-purpose tumbled out of my mouth and floated into his ear. I want to be close to him.
I want our skin to touch. His honey-toned, tanned body against my own pasty white complexion. I don't care which part of us touched; whether it be his muscular stomach, his broad shoulders. It could be his strong legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer into his personal space, making me feel like we're as one. It could be his large, rough hands holding onto my upper arms, my ribcage, and my thighs. I wouldn't care if all we ever did were grasp hands and never let go. I've no need for sexual intercourse if the touch of his hand suddenly, with a click of my fingers, made me feel safe, protected. Wanted.
That was something I had never had.
The cry of my Togepi was the closest I'd ever felt to being… 'wanted', whatever that felt like. She needed me and I guess, to a certain extent: I needed her. But I also needed Ash.
The thought of his chocolate-brown eyes gazing into mine made me feel woozy. It was enough to knock all of the senses I had out of me. When he was there, I not only felt protected, but felt needed, though nervous. I was nervous, always nervous. My legs almost gave way when I was near him, whatever bossy front I exerted. It sounds cliché, doesn't it?
A tremble filled my body, ending with my hand. This is what he saw shaking.
'Everything okay, Misty?' His voice music to my ears; a sweet, simple melody that could send even the sanest woman insane.
'If I only could tell you, Ash.' The words were desperate inside of my head. I could just see the vocabulary personifying in front of me and slamming against my clenched jaw, trying to let the words spill out.
'What?' he was speaking again. Why was he asking what I'd just said? I hadn't said a thing; it had all been going on in my own head. My own mind; my own fantasies.
I made a sound that certainly wasn't a recognised word. It sounded rather like a distressed puppy, that did not have the energy to muster up any sort of dog-like sound, much like: 'rhmmph?' The question mark was optional, I guess it could have been taken as a statement (rather, a noise) or an unwritten question that did not abide by any rules.
'Misty, please,' Ash reached over to my shoulder and placed his manly hand upon my risen shoulder. I scanned his face and body language for any signs of requited love but the touch of his hand overwhelmed me too much. His face, body, hand; all edging closer and closer to my own. A concerned look washed over his face and his eyes changed. They were more exasperated. 'What can't you tell me?'
Only then did I realise that the personified thoughts had gotten their own way. Through hard work and stealthy actions, they had successfully parted my lips and allowed the words that I so ached to express to dart out of my mouth and float, still and mysterious, in the cold November afternoon, where they were joined by the golden leaves that danced around them, mocking their newly-found but unwanted freedom.
'Ash…' I couldn't. I know I couldn't. If I started, I wouldn't be able to stop. The words, all of the emotions and secrecy I've felt towards him will fall out of my brain and I'll no longer be able to stop myself. It's like I will have been taken over, turned into a robot; controlled.
'Misty,' His hand still on my shoulder, 'I think I know what you want to say but can't. And, I think that, deep down, you know that, too.' He looked up and caught my darting eyes. They were blue, but not the sort of blue that attracts. The type of dingy blue that replicates the colour of a dirty ocean, speckled with dust spots and brown areas. His, however, magical.
I looked over his face. I hadn't been so close to something so beautiful; Ash. A chiselled jaw that had been dented by the typical teenage acne; each dent a representation of each time he'd made an impact on my life and me. I couldn't hold anything in any longer, his plump, pinky lips that were slightly parted pulled me in and, before I knew it, I was doing what I'd always dreamed.
I leaned in close to Ash and whispered something so quietly that even I couldn't hear it. He made no qualms about misunderstanding a part of my whisper. Even if he had no clue what I'd just said, I had a feeling that we were on the same wavelength, that we had a connection that was deeper than just attraction.
When my lips touched his, I couldn't hold back. Before I could stop myself, my dainty hands with long, buffed fingernails and fatty palms were tugging at the back of his long hair, falling between each of my fingers; so soft and so plush. I tried to stop myself, attempting to withdraw my hand from his hair but was invited back by Ash himself. Taking my hand, he placed it where it had been before and I continued to pull at the tufts of hair that felt like a reserved spot for myself.
It felt as though everything was falling into place, this is where I was meant to be; my life depended on this moment. I felt safe, but excited.
Ash reached out and touched my face. His gentle touch paired with the rough surface of his hands made the perfect combination. It was beautiful. My skin ached for more, anywhere; I just needed his touch. His hand made it's way down my long neck that was more exposed as I leant my head to the left. It tickled. Instead of feeling forced or controlled, I felt like it was meant to happen. I knew what was going to follow, and I couldn't have been more apprehensive to spend so much time, such intimacy, with the boy I had lusted over for as long as I could remember.
The crowds of trainers didn't faze us: groups of pre-schoolers made their way out of the Trainer School gates, gripping onto their mother's hand and pointing at passing cars as their mother's desperately tried to hold them back from running straight in front of the cars, immobilised by the flashing lights. They were so naïve; innocent. Up until this moment, I had felt as innocent as them. I looked down and Ash had grabbed my hand. I looked up and saw mother's and father's doing the same to their budding Trainers. The contrast between the parental relationships closing in on our own lustful relationship and us; we cannot wait. Suddenly, we are running down pathways made by leaf blowers and turning corners that seemed sharper than usual.
'Things are moving fast, Ash,' I whispered, daring to look him in the eyes. As soon as I said it, we stopped. He turned to me, his eyes clearly fighting back the compassion.
'I want whatever you want, Misty.' He looked down at my face and kissed my nose, 'We don't have to do this now, not yet. I've not even told you how I feel about you.' I could hear a twinge of embarrassment in his voice. I could tell that he felt he had pushed things too fast, too far, too soon. I knew I shouldn't have said what I did. More than anything, what I want is his love, however fast we have to prove it to one another. I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't help it.
'Let's go, Ash.' He smiled; relief washed over me.
We continued to run, dodging past people playing happy families, steering past rows and rows of Autumn trees that glowed with speckles of vibrant reds, oranges and yellows. 'The perfect season.' I thought, as I was guided down street after concreted street and finally arriving at Pallet Town.
'She's not in…' he offered, glancing at my face to gauge my reaction. I was surprised: it wasn't like Ash to do such things. I wanted to reassure him that all the feelings that he was feeling now, I'd felt for years. I wanted to make sure that he knew that I didn't just want this. I wanted him to know that I loved him. That he filled the part of my heart that nobody else could or ever would. I wanted to let him know all of that, so I did.
He responded with a kiss filled with eagerness, laced with tenderness and, dare I say, flecked with love. A twist of the key in the lock, a push on the hinged door and a slam of the door hitting the frame once again was all that stood between sharing the love I'd held so close to me for so long and I.
I had no time to survey my surroundings. I'd been in this house a few times before so I knew the feel of it. I knew that it housed the one thing that was keeping me alive: Ash.
After he had locked the door behind him and put in the key, he whirled past me. He got to the top of the stairs before I did, smiling at me from above the second flight. I took my time and felt the plush strands of the scarlet carpet tickle between my toes, stroking the banister that had been over-glossed and analysing the photographs that were hung up on the wallpapered wall.
Ash tapped his fingers on the banister and leaned over. I could tell he was getting impatient and I liked this. I liked being in control for once.
When I reached the top of the staircase, Ash held out his yearning hand and pulled me into his bedroom.
The buoyancy of his mattress surprised me: I'd always noted that Ash complained constantly about his back aching whenever he had to train hard for upcoming leagues. 'I shouldn't be thinking about that right now,' I thought, silently giggling to myself. I was amused that I could feel so normal at such a tender moment. Before I had time to think anything else, Ash planted his legs either side of me. I was lying on my back, looking up at the ceiling; opposite end to his pillows; pillows that were so lucky to have Ash leaning against them every night. We stayed like this for a few moments, just gazing at one another, attempting to believe that this was happening.
I reached up to his jaw and stroked it, savouring the touch of his skin against my fingertips. With that, he returned the favour. He leaned towards me, so that his head was hovering millimetres above my neck. His breath was so warm and made me shiver as it travelled down my neck and under my clothes. Ash could sense that I liked this and repeated the gesture. A smile broke out on my face.
I didn't expect that I would initiate it, but I surprised myself. I grabbed his hand and guided it towards my breast. They were spreading sideways as I was lying down. Ash understood the command and gently caressed my breasts with both of his hands. We were still fully clothed yet still aching to not be.
The touch of Ash's palm on my breast was good and, before I knew it, I had ripped Ash's shirt off in the heat of the moment and he seemed to have done the same to me. I bowed my head and looked upwards, attempting a sort of seductiveness. Ash seemed to like this.
'Come a little closer to me, Ash,' I whispered, still looking up into his eyes. His face erupted into a naughty smile that beckoned me closer and closer and, with his permission; I led his hand underneath my bra cup. I looked to see if it was the right thing to do and was instantly reassured, as Ash was biting his lip and slowly squeezing my bare breast. I fumbled around at the back of my bra strap and managed to prise open the clasp without too much hassle, slipping the straps down my trembling arms and throwing it out of the way.
I was exposing my body to the only person I had ever loved and I did not regret it. Ash started to breathe heavily and crawled towards my body. His tender lips parted and then gripped onto my nipple. His tongue swirled around and around; licking, wetting, and nibbling at it, while I felt the start of a feeling that I have never felt before.
Without further ado, our jeans were sprawled across a sea of Poke Balls that were sporadically placed on the floor of Ash's bedroom. I have never felt more anticipation that at this moment.
Topless and wanting much more than I was getting, I led Ash's hands once again to my breasts, only to guide his head towards the only other place that was covered with material.
'Yes, please,' was all I heard before Ash peeled off my knickers and exposed my vagina.
Hands still pressing against my breasts, he kissed my belly button. Then, following that, he left a trail of sloppy kisses from my stomach all the way down to my bikini line. There, he kissed many times, obviously teasing me, willing me to beg for more.
'Please, Ash, I can't take this!'
A simple statement that could offer so many possibilities; this magical feeling being one. As he made his way down to his destination, I felt the chemistry that I always knew was there. He stuck out his tongue, pinky and soft, and slowly but firmly licked my clitoris.
'You're beautiful,' I heard his whisper to me as he made a scooping motion with his tongue between my lips, catching my clitoris every time he moved his tongues upwards. With every lick, my moans became louder and more definite, starting with a small squeak.
He lifted his head, his eyes yearning for passionate love making. I beckoned him up with my fingers that had not so long ago been dying to touch even one part of him, now caressing his whole body. He compelled and lay on top of my open body. My legs fit around his body like a completed puzzle, my ankles twisted around one another, locked in this position. My arms mirrored my legs and twisted around his neck, my hand clutching the other, stroking the back of his neck. Ash turned his torso and tugged off his boxers, my legs and arms still attached to him like a monkey. There we were, fully naked and lying in Ash's bed, the man of my dreams. I'd been waiting for this moment ever since I'd realised my feelings for Ash ran deeper than a good friendship.
With our bodies tangled in a complex shape, sweating compassion and making what would be the greatest love I have ever felt, we continued to explore one another. My hands touching his body, his hands doing just that to mine.
Holding him close, I had never felt so beautiful in my entire life, as the one person I wanted to share the rest of my life with was here next to me, sharing the one thing he cannot get back with me: his virginity.
I gripped onto his broad shoulders that made me feel so protected and safe as we began to make love, never once questioning what we were doing. His penis penetrated my vagina, thrusting ever so slowly in and out, in and out.
I cupped his face with my hands, fighting back the urge to moan louder than I ever had, and kissed him, my tongue finding new places that hadn't been touched by anybody other than himself in Ash's mouth, a rhythmic dance that our tongues and our tongues only specialised in. At that moment, I felt it. He did, too. A wave of heat passed over me and my head was thrust backwards by no other than myself. My eyes squeezed shut and my toes curled around our intertwined bodies.
He collapsed, exhausted and sweating. We both lay next to one another, our love silencing any words that we could think to muster up.
I think I love him. I know I love him.
Maybe I am perfect for you.
And maybe you are perfect for me, too.