They turned, caught up in another dance, and then he had her up against the frost-laced wall. Her breath hitched, and her nails dug into his skull. She sank her teeth into his bottom lip, drawing blood, and gave a wicked laugh, and still he kissed her. Not out of desperation or hope or for luck, but simply because he wanted to. Saints, he wanted to. He kissed her until the cold night fell away and his whole body sang with heat. He kissed her until the fire burned up the panic and the anger and the weight in his chest, until he could breathe again, and until they were both breathless.
And when they broke free, he could feel her smile on his lips.
you use your legs to run from that heart of yours, you use those feelings to write poetry, you use those metaphors to hide something, you use that honesty to be yourself, you use a smile to stop the crying, you use those tears to color the ocean, you use your laughter to fill my lungs, you use your consistency for everyone, you use your life to color in between the lines, you use the loopholes to break the rules, you use those guidelines with a middle finger, you use that voice to sing with the pretty red and black birds, you use your kiss to empty fire into your soul, you use your heart as cupid’s pillow, you use those rug burns to avoid eye contact, you use your lips to taste the liquor that doesn’t lie, you use your body to dance with the drugs, you’re never really high if you’re always ready to die
a/n: this is loosely inspired by that scene from the
webcomic Always Raining Here because i read the whole thing a couple of
nights ago and let me tell you, there were feelings. enjoy!
“Eat shit, Nurse,” Dex said, taking another swig of his
beer. “I told you that you didn’t stand a chance.”
“No fair, man. I totally would have won if you hadn’t
blue-shelled me there at the end,” Nursey grumbled. He set down the Wii remote
and got to his feet, trying to figure out how drunk he was. No dizziness or
major balance fuckery, it seemed, but his head definitely felt kinda fuzzy. Now
was probably a good time to start chugging some water; he still had homework to
do later. He went to fish his water bottle out of his backpack.
“I only blue-shelled you because you blue-shelled me the last lap,” Dex said. “I won that
fair and square.”
“Psh. If I were sober—”
“Dude, you only had three shots. You’re 6’2”. You’re fine.”
“Yeah, but you onlyhad, like, a beer and a half, so
between the two of us, I’m definitely
the more impaired one here.”
Dex rolled his eyes. “Just admit I won. Stop being such a
“Well maybe you’re a sore
“I know you’re an English major, but ‘sore winner’ is not a thing.”
Nursey shook his head in mock outrage. “You come into my house—”
“Your house? This is my
dorm room, Nurse,” Dex laughed. “You’re in my
dorm room, playing on my Wii,
drinking my alcohol.”
“…Touché,” Nursey admitted, returning to his spot next to
Dex on Dex’s couch. He was probably sitting a little closer to Dex than was
strictly necessary. He could try to blame the shots for that, but like Dex
said, he was a 200-pound hockey player. Three shots of Fireball spaced out over
the last hour really wasn’t much for someone his size. If he hadn’t been a city
boy with no driver’s license, he could probably still legally drive.
The real problem, Nursey thought as he glanced at Dex out of
the corner of his eye, wasn’t the alcohol—it was his stupid crush on his
attractive yet probably tragically straight teammate. But that wasn’t really
something he liked to dwell on.