Blinded by Perfection

51- A Glint of Green

Chapter 51| All I Could Ever Ask For

Qotc is what's your favorite Taylor Swift song?
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He's obviously taken by surprise that I'm the one to actually commence the move. His limbs stiffen momentarily, but soon after, he recovers. He brings his hands up to caress my face, softly letting their thumbs graze my cheeks.

I can feel his lips pull back into the amused smile he sometimes wears around me before he returns the kiss. This time, I'm in full control however.

My hands slowly work their way up his shoulders, only pausing as I place my arms around the back of his neck. This action allows our bodies to become much closer, enough to press against each other.

Just like before, each curve and hill of our figures complements the other's to the exact measurement, fitting us together like a complicated Jigsaw puzzle. His body seems to ignite my own, and soon the pterodactyls I've come to know all too well, zoom around my insides. If I hadn't been fully awake earlier, I sure as heck am now.

Unlike our first kiss, his lips are extremely delicate as they ensue my tempo. The lack of speed doesn't make the moment any less sensational however, just more sweet.

Almost as if it has a mind on its own, one of my hands retracts itself from around Noah's neck. Noah doesn't seem to notice as it snakes into my hoodie pocket, searching for the only object I carry everywhere with me in school.

As soon as I make contact and clutch it in my fingers, the nostalgia it brings me fills me with happiness. The irony it holds. A huge grin spreads on my face, and I pause to open my eyes and regain my breath.

Unsure why I've pulled back, Noah releases his holds from my face. With a single raised brow, his calculating eyes attempt to receive their answer by studying my gaze. I feel a bit self-conscious under their inspection, but that factor doesn't make him lessen the intensity.

"What?" He asks curiously, his slate colored eyes traveling along the lengths of my features.

I carefully pull it out of my pocket, lying the object in the palm of my hand so he can see it clearly. He observes the green mechanical pencil heavily, wonder enclosed inside his gaze.

You might be wondering why the heck this certain pencil is such a big deal. It's just plastic and lead that we use to write with. But on the inside, it's more than that. Memories are tied within, important ones.

It takes him a moment to guess it's significance, but when he does he's spot on. "Is that mine from the first time we met?"

I roll the pencil between my thumb and forefinger, occupying my hands as my eyes lower to scrutinize it.

"Yup," I answer, playfully popping the 'p'.

His cute, lopsided smile etches itself onto his face. He then looks between the pencil and I, eyes narrowing in the slightest bit.

"Why do you still have it? I thought you got rid of it the moment you could snatch another person's pencil."

"I am no regular pencil snatcher," I tease. "But I don't know. I kept it then because I felt too smug that I had stolen it from you. I mean c'mon, the look on your face after I did was priceless."

"What an accomplishment," he muses, playfully rolling his eyes.

"But now," I add, raising a finger. "I keep it for a different reason. It reminds me of you and how much we've matured. How much we've dealt with and concurred. Oh my gosh, that rhymed."

"I didn't know you're the next Taylor Swift," he jokes in amusement. A smirk makes its way onto his features, causing the corners of his eyes to wrinkle in an impossibly cuter way.