Plucked

You’re both sitting in the car, the silence between you ringing in your ears. Beside that lamp post that reminds you of Narnia. There’s a tension in the air that you can’t deny, or ignore any longer. Tonight was the night. It’s the night you first began to realise that you’re falling in love with a real person, not a fantasy. He’s not a storybook character. He’s not some perfectly chiseled glorified celebrity that you’ll never have. He’s not the guy across the room who’s never even said your name.

He’s real, he’s here, and…he likes you too.

You sit there, fidgeting nervously, playing with your hands as you wait for him to say something.

Neither of you want to go home yet. The night is too magical. So you wanted to stay, and savour it.

“Why don’t we put on some music?”

He says. You agree, and he selects something that makes you feel a little calmer.

It’s a song with just the right amount of dreamy echo and guitar to make you feel weightless, youthful, alive.

You turn to face each other and continue the conversation.

You ask him why he picked that song, that artist. He tells you why he loves the song so much, in casually accurate detail.

You smile at that. And you wonder if you’ll be grinning to yourself about the way he talks 10 years from now.

Something tells you that you will.

You look up from his phone after staring at the album artwork a little too long, and find that he’s staring intently at you. It makes you shudder slightly. It makes you nervous, and it makes you sure.

He shifts a little, moving a little closer to you. You return the favour, meeting him in the middle. The delicate movements continue until you are a few centimetres apart. He scans your face for the last time, looking for a sign of approval, and you give him a feeble but unmissable smile, before your eyes lower to his mouth.

Before you know it, you can feel his breath dancing on your lips. You can hear how hurried and shallow it’s become. Now you’re sure that he wants this too. You wait a moment, and hear his breathing change, and become slower, more even, more sure.

The tension continues to thicken, the quietness lingers, and all of a sudden…thud!

“Ow!”

You exclaim, moving back slightly to nurse your throbbing head. He apologises for bumping you, but you quickly dismiss it, checking if he is ok.

Laughter fills the space around you as you the tension lifts, and you realise that you are both hopelessly uncoordinated.

As you turn to say something witty, he grabs your face and presses his lips against yours, surprising and softening you with one quick sweep.

He pulls back, and smiles a little sheepishly. You lean in and place your lips on his before he takes control, and kisses you again, more confidently, making you smile so much that you break the kiss.

He waits a moment, before asking you if it was okay. You tell him that it was your first, and it was perfect.

His eyes widen in shock, and he demands another go, playfully stating that his reputation is on the line.

You pause, pretending to be pensive, before he scoffs and seizes your lips once more.

Having sent you to heaven and back, he withdraws, a triumphant grin on his face.

You giggle a little, feeling lightheaded and completely reborn. At last…plucked.