Ruby red, that was the color of her lips. Martin loved to stare at her lips as she talked and get lost in the red color. He even had a reoccurring dream where the two of them were having a one way conversation where he was himself and she was just a pair of lips carrying on as if nothing were any different. For a while he wasn’t sure if it were just her lips he had a fascination with or any if women’s lips would do.
“Kiss me, Esme,” he requested.
“What? No. Why?” She replied, caught off guard.
“Because, I want to see something.”
“Nothing, just- come here and kiss me.”
“I’m not going to kiss you now, it’ll be weird.”
“Why would it be weird to kiss me?”
“Because you keep asking! You’re just not supposed to ask. You just do it. It feels unnatural now.”
“So the next time I want to kiss you I should just walk up and kiss you, unannounced?”
“No,” she paused and thought for a moment, “no. I don’t know. Stop being weird. And annoying. I’m not kissing you.”
Martin looked at her with a smile and his eyes drifted up from her lips to meet her gaze.
Esme laughed nervously, “and stop staring at me! You’re being a creep.”
Martin nodded and looked away then said aloud to himself, “asking for a kiss and looking at her equals creep. Walking up without warning and kissing her is completely normal. Girls are weird.”
A silence fell over the both of them. It was a moment that was teetering over two paths. One end was an awkward, strange and uncomfortable continuation of silence as neither knew what to say. Esme felt too out of place to give in and admit her shunning of his kiss was silly and Martin wasn’t quite sure if her calling him weird was playful toying or nervous warning.
On the other end, floating up and down as it balanced itself, was one of them giving in and going to the other with a warm embrace. Martin apologizing for nothing but stating his true intentions of simply wanting to kiss her lips because its his favorite thing to do, or Esme telling him, “just shut up and kiss me already.”
Martin knew the answer to his question, whether it was her lips or any woman’s that he was fascinated with. The answer was both. They were a defining feature in his physical attraction to women. The slope and curve of a woman’s lips drew him in.
But more specifically he wanted Esme’s lips. They were thin and smooth. He admired the way they curled when she talked or how they pursed tightly together when she was annoyed with him. He loved how her favorite color lipstick was ruby red and whenever she wore it they would shine even in the dark, as if his dream were becoming a reality. Mostly though he wanted her lips because of the way he felt when she kissed him, as if no other woman alive could breathe the life into his heart like she did.