So much has been wasted, but I’m done now.
I’m done.
So I kiss him.
I don’t question it. I don’t think. I just do it. I lean as far forward as I can with my sling on, and I press my lips to his.
For a moment, he goes still with shock, and then his hand slips into my hair. His mouth moves against mine. He’s familiar and new all at once, a memory and a prediction.
He’s everything.
I lose myself in that kiss as he tilts my head back and parts my lips with his tongue. He tastes like coffee and spice and a hint of something minty. I make a soft sound with his mouth still on mine, and he grips my hair a little tighter. My good hand clutches the bottom of his shirt.
This kiss is a declaration, a protest, a promise, a challenge.
I already know I accept.
