"Oh. I'm sorry." Ever apologizes immediately. True, Dahlia had caught him off-guard, but that didn't change the number of times he'd seen people kiss where both were clearly aware of what was going to happen. "I could never think of you like that." The aviator interrupts, his lips unconsciously mirroring Mateo's smile.
What follows is nothing at all like it had been Dahlia. There's no bright explosion of purple pain, no copper taste, no sharp inhale as his back was pushed against a wall. There's on darkness, no surprise, no sudden storm inside his mind. Instead, Mateo is like a cloud above him, blotting out the sunlight and yet not darkening the world at all.
Contrary to what many believe, when you don't grow up making out with your own fist or spending hours alone in bed imagining scenarios you hope and pray you can make into reality, making out isn't as intuitive as it seems. Most familiar with the sort of smooches given from family or close friends, at first, Ever's lips are constantly puckered which is in stark contrast to the botanist's much-learned mouth. "I...I don't know how." He whispers, feeling the way his lips brushed against Mateo's as he spoke and realizing those movements were in fact closer to what thought he was supposed to be doing.
Trying again, Ever mouthed the names of botanicals and paint colours against Mateo's lips, gradually trying to decrease the space between their mouths.
What follows is nothing at all like it had been Dahlia. There's no bright explosion of purple pain, no copper taste, no sharp inhale as his back was pushed against a wall. There's on darkness, no surprise, no sudden storm inside his mind. Instead, Mateo is like a cloud above him, blotting out the sunlight and yet not darkening the world at all.
Contrary to what many believe, when you don't grow up making out with your own fist or spending hours alone in bed imagining scenarios you hope and pray you can make into reality, making out isn't as intuitive as it seems. Most familiar with the sort of smooches given from family or close friends, at first, Ever's lips are constantly puckered which is in stark contrast to the botanist's much-learned mouth. "I...I don't know how." He whispers, feeling the way his lips brushed against Mateo's as he spoke and realizing those movements were in fact closer to what thought he was supposed to be doing.
Trying again, Ever mouthed the names of botanicals and paint colours against Mateo's lips, gradually trying to decrease the space between their mouths.
If you keep adding stones
Soon the water will be lost in the well
Soon the water will be lost in the well
