But I can't. I can only feel.
Feel the way he's holding me, one hand in my hair and the other now pressed to the small of my back. My body arches into his, seeking more contact. The universe has narrowed to a single point, and that point is the place where his mouth meets mine. I'm clinging to him like he's the only solid thing in a spinning world.
I understand now.
I understand the moaning and the sighing and the way humans look at each other after. I understand why they writepoems and songs about this single act, why they chase it and crave it and build entire lives around the promise of it.
This is not just pleasant. It is transcendent.
I don't know how long we stand there in the corridor, wrapped around each other like two people trying to merge into one. Minutes, maybe. Possibly longer. Time has lost all meaning.
But eventually, reality begins to seep back in.
I am kissing Cody. In a public corridor. Where anyone could walk by.
More than that, I am in over my head. Completely and utterly out of my depth. I've spent years building walls around my heart, fortifying my defenses against any kind of vulnerability. And in the space of a few minutes, Cody has somehow slipped past all of them.
It's too much. Too fast. Too terrifying.
I pull back.
Cody's eyes flutter open, dazed and hazy. His lips are slightly swollen, pink and wet, and looking at them makes me want to lean back in. To kiss him again and again until the taste of him is permanently branded on my tongue.
But I can't. Not tonight. Not when I'm already so raw and exposed, so unprepared for what I'm feeling.
"Thank you," I manage. The words come out rougher than intended. "For the kiss."
Something flickers across Cody's face. His expression is difficult to read; human faces are still a mystery to me sometimes. But when I taste the air, I am flooded with arousal, but it is tempered by understanding and a hint of worry.
"What did you think?"
"Nice," I say. Then, realizing how inadequate that sounds: "Very nice. I liked it."
The corner of Cody's mouth curves upward. "Just nice?"
"It was… I… I, uh…" I take a pause, trying to steady myself. There are no words to convey the earthquake that has occurred inside me, so I deflect. "I must get rest before we arrive tomorrow. There is much to do. Many preparations."
It's a terrible excuse, and we both know it. But Cody doesn't push. Doesn't demand more than I'm able to give.
He nods, that gentle smile still playing at his lips.
"Sweet dreams, A'Vanti."
The words are soft and intimate, meant only for me. They settle somewhere in my heart like glowing embers.
"Good night, Vel'shar," I reply, and then I'm retreating through my doorway, letting it slide closed behind me.
I lean against the wall, pressing one hand to my racing heart.
My lips are still tingling. I can still taste him, a flavor that is uniquely Cody. My whole body feels over-sensitized, like every nerve ending has been rewired.
What have I done?
I wanted to satisfy a curiosity. To understand what humans experienced when they pressed their mouths together. I expected pleasant. I expected interesting.
I did not expect this.
This feeling of being cracked open. Of standing at the edge of something vast and terrifying and wonderful.
