Stuck in Love

Chapter 21

I dropped my phone.

 

His right hand was on my left cheek extending at the back of my ears to my nape. His left hand was holding the flowers. His eyes closed. His lips pressed on mine.

 

For a few seconds there, I was totally stunned. I felt like I wasn’t breathing. His eyes were closed but mine were bright in surprise. It’s like he was sucking all of my energy and inhaling my own breath. The bone-chilling wind blew gently and brushed my locks. The hair on almost every part of my skin stood up. The sweet little kiss I waited for…it happened in the most unexpected time of my life, something I did not ever imagine. It was a perfect surprise. I felt like being in a Koreanovela.

 

The honeyed taste of coffee on his lips made everything a little bit warmer. Blood rushed to my face. His touch was cold but it melted down every bit of my soul the longer it stayed. It was weird. Every question I had in mind suddenly went away. And I wasn’t thinking, literally.

 

He gently stopped and pulled himself away, creating a few inches of space for breathing.

 

“My face is ready for some slapping,” he said seriously.

 

But I was paralyzed. It was not in my instinct to slap him. If he was a stranger, I could have without second thought. But damn, he’s the man I wanted. I didn’t fucking know what to say, how to react, what to do. I was numb all over. I could not move a muscle. I absolutely didn’t see that coming. My veins trembled like I had been showered naked by cold water on a freezing weather.

 

I collected my senses which I left in his mouth for seconds. Slowly, I finally had my voice back to speak softly, “Did you just…kiss me?”

 

He had never hugged me tight or kissed me on the cheeks or held my hand intentionally…but he kissed me. Oh Lord, send me the message behind these blurred lines.

 

“What does it mean?”

 

“It means what it feels.”

“It feels different—and shocking to me. Does it also mean the same to you?”

“Well,” he took a deep breath, “because it’s Valentine’s Day. It’s a friendly kiss. I just wanted to do it when I’m at the right state of mind. So you won’t think it’s just because of alcohol and I’m taking advantage of you.”

Friendly kiss. Is that how he kisses a friend? Do you even kiss a friend on the lips?

“What—don’t tell me, you’ve never been kissed.” He smirked. “These are for you, by the way.” He handed the flowers to me. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

I was still staring at him while trying to find some answers. But as always, he hid them very well. “I’ve been kissed…but by someone who loved me.”

He snickered again. “Ok I won’t do it again. It’s just for today. Every good girl deserves a kiss on Valentine’s Day. Wala namang magagalit, di ba?”

If it was just a friendly kiss, why did it have so much feels for me? Putang ina, wala ba siyang naramdaman kahit kapiranggot lang??? Why all of a sudden? What urged him to do that? And why?

 

“You should have just done that on my cheeks or my hand. Or you could have asked me first.” My irritated, upset tone on the rise as I picked up my phone.

 

“Why do you speak like it’s such a big deal? I didn’t molest you.”

You didn’t! But you left me wanting!

“I told you, my face is ready for slapping if you think I was rude.”

Your kiss was so gentle. What was rude was you telling me it was just a motherfucking friendly kiss!

“I was shocked. I’ve never been kissed like that by a FRIEND,” I emphasized.

“Then that makes me a special friend,” he said smiling. “Alright, I’m sorry. It’s just a simple kiss, it’s not even torrid. And of course I won’t do that to you. I’m sorry. Please, just let it go. No, just forget it. Walang ibig sabihin ‘yun. It didn’t happen, okay? Let’s go home.”

Now he wants me to pretend it didn’t happen. How could I pretend it didn’t happen when it was all in my mind, when he was all I could think of, when the feeling would just not go away?

 

He gave me a kiss. But he didn’t give me love. He left me pain and bewilderment, instead.

 

Pain—in learning that it was nothing to him.

 

Bewilderment—in being in the receiving end of his inexplicable actions.

I couldn’t understand. Maybe because I never asked—because I couldn’t ask, because I was afraid of knowing the answer, because I couldn’t afford to create a distance between us. If that was the risk in having him closer, then I was taking it in. Maybe sooner, everything would be clearer. But that’s what scared me the most—the consequences of clarity.

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