the way you kissed me

Kiss It Better (Lams)

CHAPTER ONE: “Can You Kiss it Better?”

summary: They felt less like two individual people, and rather two hearts that beat in time with each other, bound to the same rhythm. And with such a calm and blissful future ahead of them, why not shake it up? Family isn’t a home, it isn’t making small talk over dinner. It’s love, the genuine kind that could rarely be found, and how lucky this family was to have found it in such an unlikely place.

word count: 3008


“Can you kiss it better?”

John Laurens tore himself away from his computer, eyes meeting the six year old’s helpless gaze. “I’m sorry?”

“Can you kiss it better?” she repeated in a small and shaky voice. Eyes flicking down to the floor, she continued, voice growing stronger as she carried on. “That’s what my daddy does when I get hurt. He kisses it better.”

Her eyes told no tales of sorrow, yet she looked up at him in such a manner that John felt as though his heart was being ripped from his chest. “Martha.” He knelt in front of the first grader and placed his hands on her trembling shoulders. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Martha kept her gaze fixed solely on the ground instead of looking at John. “I fell off the swing.”

“Did Theo push you?” John asked, keeping his voice soft and gentle in hopes that it would make her feel better. “I saw you arguing with him at lunch.”

“I…” Martha trailed off, biting her lip anxiously. She still refused to meet John’s gaze, keeping her eyes on anything but her teacher.

“What were you arguing about?” John waited for a few moments for her to answer, but no response came from the first grader. “Martha, I want to help you, but I can’t if I don’t know what happened.”

Her voice was barely a whisper as she finally spoke. “He doesn’t like me. He… he hates me.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t hate you,” John assured her, unable to fathom how someone could possible hate another person at six years old. “I know you’d probably rather not talk to me, but you’ve got to tell someone what happened. A friend, your mom-”

“I can’t tell anyone.” Martha’s eyes watered but John pretended not to notice. “Everyone will call me a tattletale. And besides, I don’t have a mom. That’s…” She stopped mid sentence, cheeks growing pink. “That’s why they don’t like me,” she finished quietly.

“Because you don’t have a mom?” John couldn’t quite fit the pieces together. “Trust me, Martha, you’re not the only kid at the school who hasn’t got a mom.”

“Yeah.” Martha bit back a sigh as if to directly tug at John’s heart. “But I’m the only one with two dads.”

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I’m trying to forget.
The way your eyes sparkled right before you’d kiss me.
The taste of your lips— like cigarette smoke and vanilla.
How it felt when you gently pressed your hands into my warm vulnerable skin.
How I felt my toes curl and how I’d be breathless with every touch.
I’m trying to forget all of these things.
—  s.w.
“I can’t do it, Gideon! I can’t make out the way you kiss me one moment and then act as if you loathed me like poison the next!”
Gideon said, after a brief pause, “I’d much rather be kissing you the whole time than loathing you, but you don’t exactly make it easy for me.” 
― Kerstin Gier, Saphirblau

Monday 8:27am
I woke up with you on my mind.
You called me babe last night —
my heart is still pounding.

Tuesday 10:53pm
Today I realized we won’t work.
What we are is hurting her.
And I think she matters more to me than you do.

Wednesday 11:52pm
I broke things off with you today.
She barely said a word.
I’ve never regretted anything more than this.

Thursday 4:03pm
I shouldn’t have sent that message.
You shouldn’t have been so okay with receiving it.

Friday 9:57pm
I almost messaged you today.
I didn’t.

Saturday 8:49pm
I’m walking around town in search of alcohol.
They say that liquor numbs the pain of having a broken heart.
I want to put that to the test.

Sunday 2:32am
I heard you texted a girl you’ve never spoken to before.
I wonder if it’s because you’re trying to replace me.
I can’t help but wish you weren’t.
I thought I was irreplaceable.

—  a week with you on my mind, c.j.n.
Move on, leave, run away, escape this place… but don’t forget about me, about us, about this town. Always remember where you come from so you can appreciate how far you’ve come.
—  c.j.n.