Michelle

I Want To Tell You

"A kiss for Paulie?" Paul begged, batting his luscious, thick black eyelashes at me flirtatiously.

"You have to earn kisses darlin'." I teased, stroking the tip of his nose lightly with my finger.

The two of us were perched on my old, tattered sofa at home, both wearing hideous knitted Christmas jumpers to get into the festive spirit.

Paul fell back, collapsing on the soft couch, pouting in his little, brown Christmas pudding jumper.

"Well then can I take your picture?" He asked, reaching for his camera on the coffee table beside him.

"Fine then." I giggled, willing to give him something at the least.

Adjusting my itchy, mouldy-green, Christmas tree jumper, I straightened up, with an enthusiastic smile at the ready.

"Not here." He laughed, nudging me from the sofa. "By the fireplace, where you can pose for Paulie."

Without question, I got up from the sofa, and stood by the toasty, flaming fireside, resting my arm comfortably against the mantle, presenting Paul with another wide, joyful smile.

"No, no." He tutted, shaking his head from behind the camera. "Here, let me fix this."

He removed my arm from the mantle, unable to suppress his laughter for some strange reason. Setting down his camera on the mantle, he pulled me closer to his chest invitingly, causing much suspicion as to what he was up to. With a single finger, he lifted my chin, so I was now looking up into his deep honey-brown eyes, reflecting the sparks of the fire majestically.

"Ahh, would you look at that." He smiled, wrapping his arms around my waist. "Mistletoe."

Raising my head even more so, I could see above us, a certain somebody had placed the familiar, green leaves of the festive, evergreen shrub.

"Hey!" I cried, realising what scheme he'd concocted this time. "You tricked me!"

He smiled at me in triumph, swaying us slightly from side to side in conciliation.

"Please?" He begged, cupping the side of my face with one of his warm palms, rubbing my cheek lightly with his thumb.

"Oh alright." I sighed, flattered by his initiative to retrieve one, single, measly kiss.

Without a second of hesitation, his hands clasped my cheeks gently, and his lips pressed firmly against mine with much enthusiasm, catching me very off guard. His arm wrapped around my waist tightened, pulling me closer, and closer, until my hands were wedged firmly between both our chests, nearing to the point of loosing blood circulation.

Moments like these were rare, but memorable. They withheld a distinct speciality, as we wouldn't often kiss so passionately, though it was nice to feel the intimacy and devotion from Paul again.

After what I felt had been long enough, I pulled away, trying to catch my breath, laughing hysterically at his eagerness, and shaking my unfettered, pale hands vigorously to recommence blood circulation.

"Gosh you're adorable." I giggled, making the colour rush his endearing, little face.

"Sorry." He laughed awkwardly, scratching his head. "I just really needed that."

He drew both his hands down my arms, clasping my hands at the end, smiling fondly into my eyes again.

"Am I forgiven?" He asked sweetly.

I nodded at him understandingly, not that you could really blame him for longing a kiss once and a while.

The two of us sat down together on the plush, deep red carpet in front of snug, glinting fire, where he wrapped his arms around me tenderly as we watched it's enchanting flickering.