4.5.18
I laugh, "I almost kissed you that night." And I really wanted to.
"I didn't want my first kiss to be with someone while they're drunk," she explains, "I don't care about my second, or third kiss, but not my first kiss."
I bite my tongue from the response overly eager to slip out, "Then go have your first kiss so I could finally kiss you."
I wish I would've kissed you then - not that one drunken night, but a sober one spent in your room, when my hair matched my sweater and my hand found itself laced in yours, bound by invisible forces. A mingling of nervous and sweaty palms and cheeks blushing beneath my makeup. I'd stare at the butterflies on your walls and relate them to the ones breaking free in my stomach.
I wish I would've kissed you then so I wouldn't be thinking about it now, all when it's too late.
"I didn't want my first kiss to be with someone while they're drunk," she explains, "I don't care about my second, or third kiss, but not my first kiss."
I bite my tongue from the response overly eager to slip out, "Then go have your first kiss so I could finally kiss you."
I wish I would've kissed you then - not that one drunken night, but a sober one spent in your room, when my hair matched my sweater and my hand found itself laced in yours, bound by invisible forces. A mingling of nervous and sweaty palms and cheeks blushing beneath my makeup. I'd stare at the butterflies on your walls and relate them to the ones breaking free in my stomach.
I wish I would've kissed you then so I wouldn't be thinking about it now, all when it's too late.
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