The kiss was Chianti-induced or maybe it was really vinyl-induced.
"Beatles or Oasis?" he inquired lifting his smoky grey eyes to mine over his glass of Chianti.
"Beatles, any day, any time," I answered as he slipped the pristine record from its sleeve and placed it on the record player.
The Beatles always cleanse my soul. Everyone needs a little Beatles in their life. Strawberry fields forever. I loved the lyrics. It reminded me of high school and good dope that we snuck out of my friend's dad's hidden stash.
"You're really short, you know that?" he sputtered.
"That was a random comment. Yeah, the last time I checked I was only 5'1," I laughed at his odd observation.
"Yeah, I'm really tall. We aren't a good match," he nervously crackled the record sleeve.
"Stop crackling. You're paranoid," I teased gently.
"You are a bit scary," he looked at the floor, mumbling.
"Please, not this paranoid bullshit again. How am I scary?" I sighed heavily, sinking back into his bed.
"You know too much. See too much. It's scary," he sat down next to me and nervously cracked his knuckles.
"Am I scarier than the ex-Cape bitch?" I countered, nudging him with my shoulder.
I made him crack a smile. He chuckled.
"No one is as scary as the Vampiress."
"Then don't be scared. Just kiss me," I offered simply.
"How? I mean-you want me to, just kiss you?" He was a wreck.
"Yes, one kiss." I trailed my fingers down his arm gently.
"But I suck at kissing. I can't kiss, you know that. We've discussed my lack of skill-er, my lack of finesse," he fumbled.
"It's ok. I don't care if you're a virgin."
"I'm an endangered species. No one is a virgin at my age. You don't want to kiss me," he crackled the record sleeve, crushing it with his hands.
"Stop. Don't do that. Relax. Look at me," I took the sleeve out of his hand and captured his hands.
"She was never gentle with you. You need tenderness. You bruise too easily," I whispered, brushing my lips softly across his jawline.