Omens (wattys2016)

Nine

The moment his mouth touches mine the ringing stops. The heat in my veins runs cool. My chest begins to unravel and the pain in my head finally starts to fade. The whole world seems to stop spinning.

His lips are smooth, moving persistently against mine. His hands drop from my shoulder, slowly finding their way to my cheeks . I un-tense, now moving my lips with his. His tongue teases mine and he nips at my lower lip, breaking the contact between us.

"You...you kissed me," I say in awe. My fingers trace my lips, still in shock from the action. Jackson smiles brightly and I watch his eyes turn back to their normal green hue.

"Yes I did. It wasn't half bad actually." I don't know if I should be insulted or not. No one has ever kissed me like that before. Not Ian, as his drunken mouth found mine in the back of the truck. Not the other boys I have kissed. They were all so harsh, so demanding, so unfeeling.

"Why?"

"You were freaking out, overloading. I was worried you might explode or something," he explains. My heart drops a bit. He only kissed me because he thought I was going to go nuclear. Of course, he only did it because he had to.

A sharp knock on my door startles me. I rush to it, opening it a crack to see Brandon standing on the other side, a worried look is plastered on his face.

"I heard screaming. Is everything okay in there?" he questions. He tries to push his way into the room but I hold tight to the door. The last thing I need right now is to be caught with a random guy in my room. I don't know the consequences of violating that big of a rule but I am not trying to find out.

"Yea," I respond as casually as possible, "I had a nightmare, that's all."

Brandon eyes me suspiciously but moves away from the door after a moment. It is not out of the ordinary for someone like me to wake up screaming. It has been years since that happened but Brandon is still fairly new and doesn't know any better. He bids me good night and I don't close the door until I see him turn the corner.

Jackson is now sitting on my bed, flipping through the novel I keep on in my nightstand. He turns its well worn pages. I sit down next to him and try hard not to focus on the fact that all I can think about is kissing him again.

"You ready to talk now?" he asks without looking up from the pages, "Or are you planning to go all human-taser again?"

"What was that?" I inquire, "What happened back there?"

"That was years of oppressed power springing to life. First time I've ever seen something like that before. Quite the show. I mean, I've heard about your kind being able to do...unnatural stuff...but I've never seen it happen like that. One minute you were spouting off all crazy-like and then next BAM! Light up like a Christmas tree in the middle of November." He throws his hands out, exaggerating the explosion of light that came from me.

"My kind?" There he goes again with that 'your kind' spiel. My mind goes back to the party, where he so rudely told me I was not allowed at his house. He had said it then too. Your kind.

"You're telling me you have no idea what you are?" he laughs, "Wow. The guys would have a field day with you. It makes sense though. When I saw you at the party I couldn't believe you would have the balls to just stroll in, steal my good whiskey and camp out in my gazebo. I figured you had a death wish or something. But low and behold, the second I called you out you looked at me as if I was certifiable. I figured I was too drunk and my senses were off. But then I found you again, wandering my halls and I assumed you had played me like a fool. Acted all innocent to try and throw me off. Never in a million years did I actually suspect you were completely oblivious to your...situation. That's why I came to the coffee shop, to see if how'd you react when I was around. Weird. That was it. You acted weird."