22. Okay, shoot me

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Didn't you hear me? Shoot me! I deserve it. I had just been about to get smooched by the guy of my dreams, it was the perfect moment, the stars were twinkling, the birds were singing – all right, it was an owl and a few ducks in a nearby pond, but they still were birds, and okay, they weren't really singing, but so what? – all in all the ideal moment for some serious snogging. And what do I ask?

Why do you wear a toilet seat under your shirt?”

Argh! Shoot me, already!

He blinked.

“W-what did you say?”

For a moment, I considered denying it. Perhaps he would think he'd misheard. But the cold, hard thing was really feeling very uncomfortable and was getting in my way. I had things in mind which I'd like to do with my hands later on, so it would be just as well to get any obstacles out of the way immediately.

“When I ran into you the other day you had a toilet seat stuck under your shirt,” I said, sounding more confident than I felt. “And now you're wearing it again. I would like to know why.”

“I assure you Angela, I do not wear a, err... toilet seat.”

“Really?” Before he could flinch away, I made a fist and tapped against his chest. I was rewarded with a hollow 'tap, tap' noise. “Sounds like a toilet seat to me.”

He had that expression on his face again, that half-bemused, half annoyed expression that told me he didn't quite know what to make of me or how to answer me.

“I am not in the habit of carrying pieces of bathroom equipment under my clothing. This is not a toilet seat. It is... something else.”

“What?” I demanded instantly.

“Has anybody ever told you that you're very nosy?”

“Yes. You have. But I've told myself the same on numerous occasions, so don't worry, I wasn't offended.”

“I didn't think you were.”

“But I don't think it's curiosity in this case,” I murmured and pressed myself closer against him. Yes, that cold thing was really extremely annoying. “It's more a necessity. I have a right to know what's getting in my way, don't I?”

My hand slid off his chest and traced along the side of his torso, in the hope of finding an unprotected spot. Nothing! Absolutely nothing! Finally, I moved my hand up the side of his arm and began tickling him just above the collar. My heart jumped as I could hear his breathing turn ragged.

“Angela... perhaps we should take a walk together.”

“Why? Don't you like it here?”

I stretched out my arms and laced them behind his neck. Kiss scene, take two. And this time, everything was going to be perfect!

I pulled softly, until his face was just in front of mine and only the tips of my toes were still touching the ground. He was so close...

“Angela, I...”

“Psst.” I placed a finger over his lips to keep him from talking. His lips would soon have better things to do. I don't know why exactly I said the words that next came out of my mouth. Perhaps because there was that tortured look in his eyes again, the one that I had seen every time he had come close to me, the one that hurt me so deeply. “It's all right,” I murmured. “Everything is all right.”

Very, very carefully, my lips brushed against his. It was unlike the first time. It was deliberate and slow. It was the softest of caresses. His lips were warm and tender as I could feel one giving itself over to me while the other gently stroked my upper lip. I breathed him in, luxuriating in the feeling of sharing his breath, and then, equally carefully, I touched his lower lip with my tongue.

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