I’m wondering what you’d say if I asked you to have a staring contest. Staring was always your thing. I’m sure your cocky self would tell me something like, “what’s the point? You’d lose.”
I loved those flashes of bravado you gave. A glimpse of I got this not usually part of your repertoire. No matter your self deprecation or eternal humble state, you knew what you could do.
Of course me asking you to have a staring contest was just a lead.
I’m sure you’d pick up on it, you’re a smart girl.
Staring led to silence which led to kissing, and that’s all I really want to do right now is kiss you. I want to kiss you the way I used to kiss you. I want you to put your lips against mine as if they’re supposed to be together.
When that’s all sorted out your thighs would be split with a leg on each side of me and your hair making a tunnel down to my face. You and me, forget the world.
So when I ask you if you’d like to have a staring contest its not just because I want to look into your eyes a little while longer. It’s because I want to kiss you. Is it weird to ask to kiss you?
A Hopeless Romantic, Stirred 