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1-II
Honestly, I'm not sure how we've ended up like this. Sometimes I don't even recognize you anymore. How could that uncertain, adorable tomboy turn into the confident, sexy woman you've become? I'm trying to remember how we got here so that maybe I'll know what to expect when I see you. So that maybe I can understand how to make you understand.
God, I'm such a sap when it comes to you.
I'm a sucker for a cute face. Always have been and probably always will be. I hope you realize I fully blame you for this.
Why the hell was I in that damn closet anyway? I was such a retard back then. I mean, seriously, what was up with those random colored contacts?
I remember I was pissed off. At myself for not making it into the finals. At the damn door for not opening. At those stupid boxes for falling on top of me.
"Uh... excuse me? Are you all right?" I heard a voice call from outside. RESCUE!
"Actually, I could probably use a hand," I replied, embarrassed that I was going to be seen stuck in a closet under a bunch of stupid boxes. The door opened and a girl stuck her head in. You blinked several times in surprise. SO CUTE! Your face of wide-eyed innocence with those chubby cheeks begging to be pinched. Even now, when I think about it, I want to track you down and pinch your cheeks. ...actually, I think I have done that on more than one occasion... but that's neither here nor there.
You opened your mouth to speak. I expected a girlish giggle, for you to delicately tell me that you'd go for some big strong man to help. I obviously had no idea who I was dealing with.
"What the hell happened to you?" you exclaimed, stepping inside and cooly surveying the damage.
"I was a bit upset that I didn't make the finals, so I came in here to cool off a bit," I replied distractedly. You were picking the boxes up off of me and the menial task was showing off your upper arm strength quite nicely. I remember thinking that this girl might have the face of an angel, but she could probably kick my ass if she wanted to.
"And then you, what, punched the shelving unit?" you asked as though this was the most logical explanation. I laughed.
"Not exactly. The door in here latches itself and I couldn't get out," I explained, still staring. I couldn't decide if I wanted more to touch those muscles or pinch your face.
"So you just wanted out of the closet and decided to, what, climb the shelves to freedom?" I swatted at you, but hadn't gotten up yet, so it was rather pitiful.
"Well, what would you do if that door shut," I said defensively. "And you... uh..." I looked at said door. Which was now shut again. Which meant I was trapped in here with my new target. The day was suddenly looking up.
"...well, shit," you said, making me briefly wonder if you could read my mind.
I remember every moment of that afternoon. How I talked about not giving up even after being rejected again, how you talked about making your mom worry if you missed your train.
You started suddenly and ran over to the door. Then shook your head and turned back to me. I'm guessing your foot got caught on something, because next thing I knew, you were on top of me.
I know, how lucky can I get.
This was my chance. I reached up to pinch your temptingly adorable face when you grabbed my hand, just a breath away from your face. Our eyes met.
Then you kissed me.
We were both new at it. It was kind of sloppy and our noses bashed more than once. I mean, we were two horny teenagers for crying out loud. But all the same... I'd never been kissed like that before.
I had always been the initiator, the conqueror, the pursuer. I'd never felt so overwhelmingly desired as I did in that moment as your lips desperately sought, your hands possessively roamed.
Then, it was like a light bulb went off in our brains. We pulled apart and just stared at one another. You started to turn bright red and I busied myself looking at my hands.
"Um." The door suddenly opened and some old geezer stepped inside. I could feel my face start to color and I just had to get out of there.
"FINALLY!" I said dramatically before bolting down the hallway, leaving you standing there.
When I finally got home, I couldn't stop thinking about you. About the intensity in your eyes. About the softness in your touch. About the passion in your kiss.
I religiously taped Asayan every day, praying you'd make it onto the show. Then one day, there you were on my television. Yoshizawa Hitomi.
God, I'm such a sap when it comes to you.
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Topic: memoir [The End - 08/15] (Read 101580 times)