iMessage
Our last moment was on the stairs. You said you felt strange, so we slipped out onto the stairs. I followed because I always did*.* It was the usual. Our eyes flickering to each other’s lips. Flirting. That constant fear of being caught*.* This is so stupid. It’s cringe. We’re 17. We’ve been experiencing this tension since the first day of boarding school, we were 13.
We never kissed, not on the lips at least. You begged me to let you kiss you right above my lip. I wasn’t reluctant because I didn’t want to. It was because I wanted to protect our careers. I gave in, I honestly could’ve kissed you properly right there and then, but like always I restrained myself. So I leaned in and you kissed right above my lip. So soft that I almost didn’t register it. The only thing I could think about was how your soft lips on mine would feel, if you moved a little lower. That moment felt like the four years we had spent trying to avoid it.
If someone came out of that door, I couldn’t explain it. This time I really couldn’t justify why you were kissing me. We didn’t get caught. Not like all the times we were caught cuddling on my bed. That was easier to explain, but this was career-threatening. I say that like we’re 25 and started building one, but it did. It started when we were 13. Every move is monitored. Everyone has a file.
In another universe we were made for each other. Not in this one love.
Message Unsent