The Kiss That Went Home

So here I was, walking Hannah home again.

She was lost in her usual sea of thoughts, so there was no way she could tell how ill-composed I became each fucking time we bumped shoulders. Or could she?

Maybe that was why she was walking so quickly.

"Sorry I'm going so fast John. I had a great time and all and we ate and we laughed, but my mom's quite mad. I mean, yeah she is. It's as if- I understand that she misses me and all. But- Argh... We shouldn't have missed that last train."

God, she was pretty, even when non-coherent. Her lips were driving me crazy.

"Don't worry about it, Hannah. I guess if I were her I would kiss you too."

SHIT. What did I just say?! I swear, she was raping my brain with her eyes.

"Miss you! I meant miss you." She was laughing. Thank God.

I looked ahead. Three more street lamps and we'd reach her door step. Now or never, John. Now or never.

"Hey Hannah-" I grabbed her quickly by the arm.

Okay, so now I had her attention. She was staring at me, waiting. What the hell was I supposed to do?

Cup her chin? Hold her hands? Hold the back of her head? Not hold the back of her head? Touch her face? Her shoulders? Hold her back? Stand still?

AH FUCK IT, JOHN, JUST DO IT. I took a deep breath, and leaned in toward her.

Her nose was just inches from mine.

My heart.

Was.

About.

To.

EXPLODE.

"You've got some weird... thing stuck on you. Ha ha ha. "

I took a step back, brushing imaginary dirt off her forehead with my thumb. She blinked at me, wondering where the joke was.

Well, she was looking right at it.

THE END.