Random Tidbits 1.0

Whipped Cream

"How did we get here?" I asked him. The two of us sat in the now stickified classroom on opposite ends completely out of breath.

"Well, you attacked me with frosting," he spoke so matter of fact-ly it almost angered me. I was flustered and almost... turned on in a way. Spending all that time laughing and fighting with him it seemed like a form of foreplay. We sat in the middle of our teacher's room, the lights on seeming as the darkness had already began in the outside world and a tiny strip of empty plastic floor separating the two of us.

"You didn't believe they tasted good," I defended myself. "Shouldn't insult someone's cooking," I said under my breath.

"You shouldn't be talking Miss. Goodie-To-Shoes," his voice elevated, the fun was now gone and it seemed to becoming replaced by much anger.

"What's that supposed to mean, Mr. Can't-Pass-The-Class?" I stood too peeved to sit peacefully.

"You are always in this classroom sucking up to teach!" He stood as well; it was becoming an angry parade. "And if you would stop distracting me in class maybe I wouldn't have had to come to detention!"

"If you would stop staring at me, then maybe I wouldn't have had to come and "baby sit" you," the comment was a low blow. Especially because he was two inches taller than me and three years younger than me. They had an odd friendship, one that kept becoming laced with something all together BAD.

I took a deep breath and exhaled heavily before sitting on top of one of the front desks.

"I give up."

"You give up?" He asked confused walking over to me. It would have been normal for him to sit next to me and talk but this whole night was not going "normally".

"Yeah," I nodded looking at the floor as I swung my legs back and fourth. It was a childish thing to do but I am a childish person. His class already thought that I was a kid, shorter than they were, with smaller hands and a childish attitude. Too bad I was actually three years older than they were, especially since I totally have a crush on him.

"On me?" The question was asked but he almost sounded... hurt by the thought.

"I would never give up on you, just fighting, this," I still couldn't look up; this whole night had been about me almost admitting to my baby rape crush and him almost accepting. He walked up to stand right in between my legs and grabbed my hand. I stopped the fidgeting and moving of my leg, I sat frozen in the night looking at his hand almost intertwined with mine. Stupid almost's.

"Good," he told me rubbing his thumb over the inside of my hand. "Did you cut yourself?"

"Cupcakes can be dangerous to make," I spoke in a little girl's voice, him treating me this way was sweet and I didn't want the moment to leave me just yet. "Why is that good?" I needed to know if he wanted to me to never give up on him or not.

He lifted my hand as my eyes followed. "Because I don't want you to give up on this," my hand was now raised next to his mouth and my eyes were locked with his. It was a moment that probably should never be shared, but definitely a rule breaking second had begun. "By never giving up on me, you can't give up on this." And then his lips touched my skin.

I gasped, we were both covered in all types of sugary condiments, stuck together and never planning on letting go. My already complicated life just grew an olsur.

"This isn't right."

"No," he agreed with me and my eyes widened in pain. His head continued to move closer to mine all the more. "It is perfect." And then his lips were there. The taste of whip cream and frosting would always remind me of him. The salty taste from foot ball practice and the softness from his lips, it was all him. I wouldn't expect his lips to be as soft as they were but it definitely made the already sweet moment sweater. I smiled into the kiss thinking about how adorable he was. He would grow, mature, become a man, all under my watch. It was the most perfect relationship I would probably ever have.

He pulled away leaving slight feather light kisses before pulling away all together. His other hand reached up to push my hair back.

"You're sweater now then in class," I smiled up at him.

"Must be the frosting," he smiled back kissing my forehead.

We looked into each other's eyes a smile growing within his chocolate brown and my ocean blue.

"Must be."