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It had become a rarity for me to enjoy music class, simply for the reason that we didn't do anything. Today was no exception, as me and Connor were just sitting in the back, talking about sweet nothings. It was however, about twenty minutes into the first hour of class, that mrs Sangster walked up to us, or more explicitly, to me.

"Mellet. Can I talk to you for a second?" She had one hand in her hip, but despite her somewhat demanding stance, her voice was still sweet. Of course, I didn't really know mrs Sangster well, but she struck me as someone who was generally happy with life. "Alone," she added, several seconds later. Her eyes were focused on Connor, who was still sitting close to me.

"Oh, yeah, right. I'll just- go over there or something." He mumbled, after which he stood up and walked over to somewhere else. My eyes followed his movements for a couple more moments after he had sat down, seeing how he got a notebook out of his backpack and started scribbling in it, ever so often tapping his pen against his jaw or glancing towards me, smiling. I smiled back, and only let my gaze drift off of him when I heard mrs Sangster cough. I turned towards her, somewhat embarrassed that she'd 'caught' me staring at Connor. I mumbled a quick apology, before asking her what she wanted to discuss.

"Well, Troye. You still haven't told me what you wanted to do for the performance, and I was wondering if you had something in mind? I know it's long away still, as the performance is on the 24th of June, but it would be nice to know if you have any plans already. Everyone has their ideas ready, you see?" She had her legs crossed, eyes soft and focused on me, while tapping her pencil against the notebook she was holding, ready to write things down.

"Err. Yeah, actually, I do," I started. Because for some reason, I had a lot of ideas all of sudden. "But I have a couple questions about the ideas that I have. For instance, will there be like a screen to display things on somewhere? To use? And is it allowed for me to perform with someone who doesn't go to school here?" I asked her more questions, and told her about my plans and ideas. I knew I couldn't be vague about them, so I wasn't. I just really hoped no one overheard our conversation, but judging from the fact everyone was doing something and we were sitting in the back of the classroom, I didn't think anyone heard.


His hand was playing with my hair, his other hand on the small of my back, pushing me against him. His lips were on my lips, his body above mine. He somehow held himself up so he didn't crush me, which I very much appreciated. I had one arm around his waist, my hand resting on his butt. My other hand was in his neck, my thumb rubbing over the part just under the line of his hair.

I don't think you could really describe out kiss as heated, but it certainly wasn't a soft, slow kiss. It felt as if my whole being lit up when I was with him. He made me feel loved, made me weak and left me wanting more. Our kisses never ceased to make me happy, turning whatever mood I had instantly in a much better, brighter one. Even when I was hyped and excited already. I bit the bottom of his lip softly, and I could hear him whimper a bit, causing a shiver to run up my back. I arched my back a little when moments later, he ran his tongue across my upper lip, pressing our bodies closer.

It continued like that for a while; us kissing, teasing each other, letting out tongues explore every area of the other's mouth and lips. Letting out hands roam across each other's bodies. Teasing each by putting our hands beneath the other's shirt. Tugging at hairs and planting small kisses on collarbones, making the other gasp in pleasure. I guess you could now say our kiss was becoming pretty heated. If you could even describe it as a "kiss" anymore. Because this was a full experience, not worthy enough of that single word but also not something to waste words on.

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