We're sitting together on the sofa, talking. He reaches an arm around me and pulls me closer to him. I lean my head on his shoulder, relaxing under his strong, protective arm. We've known one another nearly our whole lives and never sat like this, but somehow it feels as old and comfortable as time itself. His arm wasn't so strong then though, I remembered--not so well-muscled and manly as it was now. I used to look upon that arm as one to love and protect--not one to look to for love and protection. Yet now...I looked up into his face, into those ever-changing hazel eyes, and I saw that the boy I loved had become a man. The soft edges had hardened, the jawline had become prominent, the eyes had grown serious and, sadly, a little tired. A new feeling fell atop all the old ones. And what was this unfamiliar emotion? It was indefinable, as love often is. I knew I had no hope of understanding it; all I knew was that for the first time in my life, I wanted to kiss you.
I sat up and turned to you, our eyes holding one another. Gently, slowly, I moved my face toward yours, my eyes closing as our lips touched. I felt your breathing quicken as you wrapped your arms around me and pulled me into you, our kissing growing more and more passionate. I stroked your face and you ran your hands up and down me, soaking in the body you had secretly longed to touch for so long. You entangled your fingers in my hair, and I moaned as you pulled on it.
