Saoirse
“Stay with me.”
The words feel almost physical.
Like they’re swaddling me. Engulfing me with warmth. Makes the rest of the world and all its problems seem so distant. So unimportant.
I don’t want to go back to it yet. I want a little longer.
Just a few more hours to play make believe. To pretend like I can have the life I want.
Is that so much to ask?
“Okay,” I whisper. I do it quietly, as if saying the word too loud will break the spell.
Cillian’s smile makes everything around me fade away.
Even the beauty of the rooftop garden we’re standing in seems to melt into the background. A needless distraction from the man standing before me.
He releases my hand, but then I feel his fingers graze against my cheek.
We’re so close now.
How did we even get so close?
His light blue eyes are flecked with darker dots of cerulean that seem to change shape every time the light touches them.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispers to me.
“Funny… I was thinking the same thing about you.”
The smile slides off his face for a moment. But before I can decipher the complicated look that flashes across his eyes, he leans in.
His lips press down over mine. Soft and fluttering.
He takes it slow.
He makes me feel like we have all the time in the world.
Even when he increases pressure, his lips remain soft.
They pull me in deeper, and my hands rise up and wrap around his neck. I can feel his palms at the small of my back.
He turns his head to the side slowly, deepening the kiss so seamlessly that I still feel the lingering tentativeness even as the kiss evolves into something more decisive, more passionate.
His tongue runs down my bottom lip. Without even thinking about it, I open for him.
There’s nothing probing about the way he enters me. Nothing uncomfortable about it.
It just feels… intense. Completely transformative.
How many boys have I kissed before?
Three, I think?
Four, if you count Sebastian O’Hara in fifth grade, which I tend not to.
None of them were like this.