She whispers my name.
And fuck - hearing it like that does something to me I don't have the words for.
But she's shaking her head, rejection on the tip of her tongue. I can feel it.
My shoulders tense.
I step back again.
I have to keep control.
She reaches for my wrist, stopping me, and that small, tentative touch feels heavier than anything else that's happened tonight.
"Tell me what you want," I say, quieter now.
Her eyes drift to my mouth.
I know that look.
I've seen it on other girls before. Want. Curiosity. Anticipation.
But this is different.
This is Ivy. This is Leon's little sister and fuck-
I shake the thought from my head and paste on a grin, "Ivy? What do you want to know, how to kiss, how to blow-"
She flusters, blushes hard, stammers. My hand lifts to her cheek unbidden, pressing against the rosy skin there. I love pink on her. And red, any shade of blush I can pull from her is my favourite colour.
"You're always blushing."
She leans back. My hand drops.
"Cause it's not me; I don't do this shit. I don't...you-"
"That's not a bad thing," I tell her, stepping closer again.
"Wow, cool, look at the blushing virgin."
I don't know where the words come from, and I regret them instantly. "you're not though, are you?" I pause. Take a breath. "I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry. Let's just forget that."
I don't want to push. I don't want to scare her.
"Tell me something you want to focus on," I say instead.
Her eyes betray her.
They go to my lips again.
My resolve fractures.
"Do you want me to kiss you?"
Please say yes.
I shouldn't want her. I'm not allowed to want her. But fuck, I do.
She startles, embarrassed, says something about not being desperate, and that's it.
