Mixed Signals


After class, you wait up for me in the hallway. You greet me with a silent smile, and I return it automatically. Suddenly you wound you warm fingers around my arm, and you drag me through the crowd. Your touch feels like fire against my skin.

I love it.

We exit through the back door. Nobody follows.We run down the block together, laughing and talking about nothing important. We make it to your house in no time. You beckon for me to follow you up to the kitchen. You make me a snack. You fetch me a drink. We're alone together. Oh how I wish it was like this more. You trail me up to your bedroom, where we eventually put in a old movie.

I have been in your room many of times before, for play dates and such. But at the moment, it feels too small. Too comfortable. As you sit back down next to me, I feel squished. Yet it feels good.

I don't pay attention to the screen. I pay attention to you. You have your arm around my shoulder and I place my head against it. I can hear your warm breath coming in and out. Slow and steady.

You suddenly look down at me and smile. I can feel my breath getting caught in the middle of my throat. All I want is for you to lean down and place your lips against mine. I am so foolish.

Yet, you lean down the tiniest bit and I welcome the motion with greed. Sadly though, your friends barge into your room, yelling about something only a guy would know about. You pull back your arm. You slide further down the bed to make room for your friends.

The moment is over.

The End

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