Last Kiss: Her Side
March 20, 2019; A date I won’t soon forget. The night was dark and chill as I stepped out my front door to meet my friend. I walked to the end of the driveway with an idiotic smile upon my face and no shoes on my feet. It had only been a few months since I’d last seen him, but it felt like an eternity. He got out of his car and threw a grey hoodie - his grey hoodie - at me. Surprisingly, I caught it before it hit the ground. I walked over to him and gave him a hug. In the cold air, his body against mine felt like a furnace heating a room. After talking for a bit, we momentarily went inside. Next thing I knew the cold air was against my skin again, as we went for a walk in my neighborhood. I remember he picked me up and I begged do be put back on the ground. Though now? I wish I was back in his arms. Even though I hate being picked up, I felt safe in his arms. We found ourselves at a childs playgrouns around 9 o’clock at night. I sat on the ground, watching him momentarily play before-
“Is that optioin for bringing you the hoodie still on the table?” He asked softly looking from the star-filled sky to me.
I looked at him, a smirk on my face, “Depends. Can you remind me what that was?”
“You know.” Was all he replied.
I glanced at his lips as I bit mine. I didn’t want to be the one to kiss him first, but I figured I’d have to be. I put a hand on his cheek and we both leaned in. His soft lips met my chapped ones. A rush of emotion washed over me as I lost myself in the kiss. I had pulled away to lean onto his shoulder, in hopes of hiding the smile on my face. About thirty minutes later, I pulled away from him, almost breathless. Soon after I pulled away, we began our trek back to my house. Once there, I pulled him out of view of the camera on my doorstep to give him a final kiss. Only, I didn’t know that this would be our last kiss. His hand on my cheek, sliding toward the back of my neck to pull me closer. Our lips meeting the others halfway, as if they fit together perfectly; As if they knew what to do. My hand running through his soft, silky hair. A whispered “I love you,” with the response of a deeper kiss.
That’s how I’ll always remember
P.S. I love you. I sincerely hope you’re doing well.