He closes the door slowly behind him as I hang his jacket up on the coat hanger. I walk to the couch and turn to see he is staring at me. Not my ass, not my legs, but me. My face. It's nice. It takes my breath away.
He smiles, slowly, sexily and my heart beats fast. I back up and my back hits the couch and I can't move. My legs shake. Oh... I forget about the agreement in the elevator as he comes closer. Eventually, he is an inch away from my face, looking down on me. I can't move. Paralyzed, like in the coffee shop. Then, he ruins my dream come true.
"I believe we made a deal just recently." I hear the smile in his voice because all I can see are piercing red eyes. I don't move still. Everything is at a standstill until he breaks the silence. "What are you thinking?"
"Whether I should kiss you myself or slap the living shit out of you." He laughs and back up.
"I could see where either could be a good decision." I roll my eyes.
"Do you mind if I go get changed into something comfortable?" I ask quietly.
"No, go ahead." He smiles warmly as I walk to the edge of the apartment and turn into the hallway and enter my room. I search my dresser and I find what I want to where. I red camisole and black, "yoga" shorts. Perfect.
I fix my hair into a ponytail and walk back out and he is sitting on the couch, his left leg bent in so his ankle is resting on his knee, his back wedged in the corner, most likely planned like that so he knew I'd see him when I walked out, his tie is draped over the back of the couch, his black dress shoes places neatly near the door and the box of strawberries is open and in his lap. He see's me and with the straightest face I've ever seen, picks up a strawberry with the brown substance hiding all but the top of it with a bit of red peeking out delicately and ever so slowly eats it in front of me. I blush and shake my head.
"I see why you like strawberries." He says darkly. I groan with anger and go into the kitchen. I'd say two can play this game, but quite frankly I do not know how to play this game. I quickly pour some coffee into a mug and bring it into the living room and plop down onto the couch. It squeaks a little because of how old it is, but it's still fairly comfortable and the fabric is soft. I sigh.
"Irritating?" He asks.
"Irritating." I repeat. He chuckles.
"You know what to do." I glare at him with annoyance in my eyes that soon fades to something else. Something more exciting. My stomach flips and he can tell. I know he can. I groan.
"FINE! I'LL TELL YOU!" I shout. He jumps back a bit. Then, he see's me smiling at his reaction and busts out laughing. A whole hearted, hilarious, heart warming, boyish laugh. I can't help but laugh with him. He stops and looks at me.
"Your smile is so beautiful." I blush.
"Not as good as yours. Trust me..." I recall my thought that I now have to tell him. I smack my self in the head with my palm and sigh, closing my eyes. I shake my head.
"Oh?"
"Alright. Um, well, when we were in the car, you smiled at me, and for some odd, unexplainable reason, I thought to myself, Oh, what I'd give to feel that smile on my skin...and then I freaked out and gaped at myself. That's wha-"
I didn't stop talking. I wouldn't have just stopped talking mid sentence like that, so what happened? Oh yeah, he's kissing me. Oh shit! He's kissing me! Kiss back! His soft lips rub on mine in the perfect way. They're soft, warm and taste like chocolate and sweet strawberries. He holds my head in his hands and I slowly close my eyes, tasting his lips. He works on my bottom lip lightly and a sigh loudly, a faint noise escaping but not quite a moan.
I part my lips ever so slightly and he takes notice, slipping his wet tongue into my mouth. He's gentle, not rough like I thought my first kiss would be. He doesn't lean into me or push me over on to the couch, he just kisses me. I'm kind of glad, because this is a lot to take in as it is, and I'm not sure I'd be able to resist him if he had done something like that.
He continues the slow, sensational strokes of his tongue inside my mouth and his lips brushing against mine and sometimes licking my bottom lip. I can't help but moan every time he does that. I pull back.
"I don't want to go any further. Not tonight." I say out of breath. He stares at me, as if confused and I hope I haven't hurt his feelings until a face-splitting grin is on his face. His sharp white teeth show and I can't help but grin back. He leans in, and for a moment I wonder if that grin was a we'll-go-further-because-I'll-make-you-want-me grin and that he's going to kiss me. But I was wrong. He leans in close to the side of my head, his lips brushing my ear when he speaks.
"Different." He whispers deeply, darkly and full of great joy. It sends a shiver down my spine. He gets up.
"Where are you going?" I ask. He chuckles.
"Home." He grabs his tie and jacket and puts his shoes back on. He stands at the door. He's so handsome. I admire him and he notices and chuckles. "Good-bye, Maka. I'll see you Monday."
"You aren't going to call me?" I ask with a pang of disappointment in the back of my throat, building tears in my eyes. I swallow it. I can't take that thought. He grins harder.
"That depends." I swallow again, harder.
"On what?" I asked, perplexed. He opens the door and pauses and turns, standing and looking at me with the door open, his body in the hallway.
"On if you want me to." He closes the door and I am unable to move. I then realize that he wants me to call him to get me to beg him to call me. That's what he wants, and he won't get it. He'll just have to wait until Monday to see me.
Frustrating.
Monday comes with a drag. He's in the back of my head constantly and I refuse to call him because I am bull headed. I don't remember how many times I scolded myself and said, Just call him! but refused and still refuse, even now on Monday morning. I shut the alarm clock off and lazily climb out of bed. I moan and groan because I'm not sure whether I want to see him or not. He's so infuriating some moments and so romantic at others. I can't keep up.
Once I'm dressed, I grab a blueberry muffin from the batch I had made yesterday morning, put on my black jacket over a cleavage-revealing shirt that is white with a collar and head out the door, my black flats pattering lightly on the hardwood floors of the hallway outside my apartment.
This new me is my friend today. Everyone won't stop staring at the nerdy girl who is now, I will admit, kind of hot looking with her blonde hair falling in luscious locks on her shoulders, her tiny yet full, perky breasts being revealed just enough and a short black skirt that shows my freshly shaved legs that are soft like silk.
I hold my books in my hand still, but instead of a book bag, have a big black shoulder bag that matches my outfit that holds my laptop and textbooks. It is heavier than my backpack, but looks a lot better than the bulky ol' thing.
I walk into Professor Stein's class, just on time and take my seat next to Tsubakii. I smile kindly at her, carefully avoiding Soul's perpetual glances. I try not to smirk, but I can't help it. It's just so nice to see what kind of an affect you can have on someone. After about ten minutes into class, I sneak a glance over at Soul, who is indeed blushing. I try hard not to do a victory pump of my fist.
I notice the seat next to him and Tsubakii is empty. I look back over at Stein to see he is in deep discussion about dissection while facing the board. Now's my chance. I look back at Soul who's eyes are now on mine and I look quickly back to Stein and hop over Tsubakii. She's startled at first but decides to pay no attention. I stare at the board, not taking notes because I already know all there is to know about dissection from this class, and try hard to focus with my peripheral vision on Soul. He then moves to get out a sheet of paper and a pencil and scribbles something on it and slides it to me. I pick up the folded sheet of notebook paper and read the words carefully.
I'm taking it that with the apparel you have ever so carefully chosen means I should probably call you. I glance at him and he has the base of his palm under his chin with his fingers bending at the knuckles and the tips reaching his white hair. He is so hot when he does this, and to top it off, he has a slight smirk on his face that could make any girl bow down to him. I carefully pick up my pen and scribble down the words that first came to mind when I read this.
Damn right.