Disclaimer: I do not own Kickin' It.
There's nothing more awkward than close proximity.
"Whoa!"
The sharp push from behind caused the brunet to fly forward, his momentum sending him several feet towards the lockers. His eyes dilated in terror at the prospect of crashing. What if he hit his head against the locker and got severe brain damage, resulting in him being stuck in a bed for the rest of his life and not being able to do karate or run or eat nachos ever again?
"Whoa!" came a female cry. Jack braced himself for the pang of metal against his skin; but it never came.
All that came was the feeling of a pair of small, calloused hands on his chest, supporting him from his fall. Relief washed over Jack, but it quickly turned into horror.
The hands belonged to Kim.
Kim's hands were on his chest.
Not to mention they were about two inches apart.
Kim realized what position she was in, and hastily put her hands down. Her eyes didn't stray from Jack's, and she hesitantly maintained eye contact; Jack's eyes were focused on Kim's brown ones, and with dreaded realization came the memories of their times together.
I really miss her.
Kim's gaze began to flit to and fro from Jack's, and eventually she coughed, serving as a prompt for Jack to avert his eyes.
"Uh, thanks for breaking my fall," Jack stammered uncomfortably.
Kim's response was muted, and she turned away, flushing brightly, leaving the brunet to walk away with confusion etched upon his otherwise disappointed face.
This was short; hope it's okay.
-Sienna
rocks at my window