A Thousand Boy Kisses(42)

She was really, truly dying.

I felt the bed dip beside me. I smelled her sweet scent. I followed her as she guided me to lie back in bed. I followed her silent instruction to fall into her arms. I released everything that had been pent up inside as she stroked her hands through my hair. I wrapped my arms around her waist and held on, trying my damnedest to memorize how this felt. How she felt in my arms. Her heartbeat strong and her body warm.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but, eventually, the tears dried up. I didn’t move from Poppy’s arms. She didn’t stop caressing my back with her fingers.

I managed to wet my throat enough to ask, “How did it all happen, Poppymin? How did you find out?”

Poppy was quiet for a few seconds, before she sighed. “It doesn’t matter, Rune.”

I sat up and looked into her eyes. “I want to know.”

Poppy ran the back of her hand over my cheek and nodded. “I know you do. And you will. But not tonight. This—us, like this—is all that matters tonight. Nothing more.”

I didn’t break my gaze from hers, and neither did she. A numb kind of peace had settled between us. The air was thick as I leaned in, wanting nothing more than to press my mouth to hers. To feel her lips against mine.

To add another kiss to her jar.

When my mouth was just a hairsbreadth from Poppy’s, I moved to kiss her cheek instead. It was soft and gentle.

But it wasn’t enough.

Shifting upward, I pressed another kiss, and another, to every inch of her cheek, over her forehead and across her nose. Poppy shifted beneath me. As I drew back, I guessed from the understanding in her expression that Poppy knew I wasn’t pushing things.

Because as much as I didn’t want to accept it, we were different people now. The boy and girl who kissed each other as easily as breathing had changed.

A true kiss would come when we’d worked our way back to us.

I planted one more kiss on the end of Poppy’s nose, causing a light giggle to spill from her lips. It seemed as if the anger had subsided just enough to allow me to feel its joy take root in my heart.

As I pressed my forehead to Poppy’s, I assured her, “My lips are yours. Not for anyone else.”

In response, Poppy whispered a kiss on my cheek. I felt the effect of this kiss travel all through my body. I tucked my head in the crook of her neck and allowed myself a small smile when she whispered in my ear, “My lips are yours too.”

I rolled to pull Poppy into my arms, and our eyes eventually drifted to a close. I fell asleep quicker than I thought. Tired, heartbroken and emotionally scarred, sleep came quickly. But then it always did when Poppy was by my side.

It was the third moment that defined my life. The night I found out I would lose the girl I loved. Knowing our moments together were numbered, I held on to her tighter, refusing to let go.

She fell asleep doing exactly the same…

…a powerful echo of who we used to be.



*



The sound of rustling woke me.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Poppy’s quiet silhouette drifted toward the window. “Poppymin?”

Poppy halted, then finally looked back at me. I swallowed, chasing away the razor blades in my throat, as Poppy came to stand before me. She was wearing a thick parka coat over track pants and a sweater. A backpack lay at her feet.

I frowned. It was still dark.

“What are you doing?”

Poppy made her way back to the window, looking back to playfully ask, “Are you coming?”

She grinned at me and my heart cracked. It splintered at how beautiful she was. My lips curved upward at her infectious happiness, and I asked again, “Where the hell are you going?”

Poppy pulled back the curtain and pointed at the sky. “To watch the sunrise.” She cocked her head to the side as she looked at me. “I know it’s been a while, but did you forget I did this?”

A wave of warmth flowed through me. I hadn’t forgotten.

Getting to my feet, I allowed myself a small huff of a laugh. I immediately stopped. Poppy noticed, and sighing sadly, she walked back to me. I glanced down at her, wanting nothing more than to wrap my hand around the nape of her neck and take her mouth with my own.

Poppy studied my face, then took my hand. Taken aback, I stared down at her fingers, wrapped around mine. They looked so small as they gently squeezed my hand.

“It’s okay, you know?” she said.

“What?” I asked, edging closer.

Poppy’s grip stayed on my hand as the other lifted toward my face. She rose to her tiptoes and laid her fingertips on my lips.

My heart beat a little faster.

“It’s okay to laugh,” she said, her voice as soft as a feather. “It’s okay to smile. It’s okay to feel happy. Or what’s the point in life?” What she was saying hit me hard. Because I didn’t want to do or feel those things. I felt guilty just thinking about being happy.

“Rune,” Poppy said. Her hand drifted down to rest on the side of my neck. “I know how you must be feeling. I’ve dealt with this for a while now. But I also know how it makes me feel seeing my favorite people in the world, the ones that I love with my whole heart, hurt and upset.”

Poppy’s eyes shone. It made me feel worse. “Poppy…,” I went to say, covering her hand with my own.