#meme:kiss

[ineedaholiday-blog]

❖

send me a ❖ and my muse will kiss yours.

    {Claire had just finished patching him up, he talking     about what happened that night but Claire was too     distracted by his lips, she just needed to kiss him. Leaning     forward the woman planted a gentle kiss on his lips,     shutting him up, her hand came up to gently cup at his cheek.}

[belenwen]

(ʃƪ ˘ ³˘)

Send me a "(ʃƪ ˘ ³˘)" and my muse will respond with a kiss that resembles their feeling(s) or relationship towards yours.

Forehead: Blessing/Friendship

Cheek: Dear/Kindness/Satisfaction

Arm: Affection/Adoration

Back of Hand: Respect/Love

[keller-murphy]

I want the K~

number fifteen | kiss in the rain | inspired by {x}

“Where abouts, you think?” called Keller over the sound of the pouring rain as they slogged across the wet grass of one of the Envest properties that they were staying at for the winter break. “Over there? Is that it? What even is that?” Glancing across to Tyler, whose hair was wet and his dark eyes wide, Keller was almost furious that Tyler could still manage to look perfect despite the downpour. He was all dark features and pale skin, and it made Keller want to reach out and touch him, even just for a moment, as though he could share in that beauty rather than watching it from afar. As though he knew what Keller was thinking, Tyler turned his eyes to him and smiled.

“That’s a kind of patio… don’t ask what for, since none of my family have ever used it, as far as I can remember,” Tyler said, and he stopped when they were a fair distance from the large marble structure that he had labelled a patio. To Keller’s untrained eye, it looked like something pulled from a book on Greek architecture: it was an oval shape, with tall Corinthian colonnades supporting it, while the material it was made from – marble – stood out against the rain well.

“Are you sure it wasn’t once some kind of sacrificial altar?” Keller asked, looking to Tyler as he wiped some water from his eyes. “Where they killed mudbloods to appease Merlin or something?”

Tyler gave Keller a look – complete with a raised eyebrow – that told him he was being ridiculous, but he rose his hand and affectionately pushed back some of the hair that had stuck to Keller’s forehead. “Just a patio,” Tyler confirmed with a smile, dropping his hand again. “I’ll go to the left, and you go to the right, and then we’ll meet on the patio, okay?”

Keller grinned and nodded, and the two boys parted ways. Slipping and sliding his way down the grass, Keller knew where he had to go and what to do: winding his way through the trees until Tyler was out of sight, Keller paused a moment in the treeline to catch his breath and steady his racing heart – but to no avail. He could feel the excitement coursing through his veins: this moment was one that he was going to remember for a long time, of that he was sure. Peeking his head out from behind the tree, he saw that the coast was clear: the marble patio was empty and the rain was still pouring down in thick sheets, and with that, Keller began to play the role he was meant to play. Dressed in an old-fashioned cloak, pants, and riding boots that they had found in Tyler’s attic, Keller strode out from the treeline and up the steps to the marble patio, whose roof immediately ceased the rain the moment he was beneath it. Breathing heavily, he leaned against the circular wall of the marble structure that formed the basis of its centre, as though pausing for a respite against the rain.

To his left, he heard soft footsteps, and Keller waited a moment longer until he saw a dark figure pause on the edge of his peripheral vision. Turning, Keller pretended to jump in fright at the sight of Tyler standing there, drenched to the bone from the rain and dressed in a dark overcoat, white shirt, riding pants and boots. He looked amazing, as usual, and Keller fought to keep the surprised look on his face as Tyler stood there, looking apprehensive before speaking, addressing him formally. “Mr Murphy,” he said, breathless himself, and Keller bit his lip to keep from smiling and quickly ducked his head to hide it. “I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer,” he started, locking eyes with Keller. “These past months have been a torment. I came to Rosings with the single object of seeing you – I had to see you,” and he took a step forward Keller, who stood his ground, but only barely. His heart was racing as he looked back across the small distance to Tyler. “I have fought against my better judgement, my family’s expectation, the inferiority of your blood status, my own status, and my circumstance: all of these things, and I’m willing to put them aside and ask you to end my agony.”

Keller didn’t know why, but his heart thudded painfully fast against his chest – all of these that he listed were true to form; they were things that they had struggled against in order to be together, and now Keller put a look of confusion on his face, playing innocent. “I don’t understand,” he all but whispered.

Tyler stepped closer to him again, and now Keller could make out the dark irises of his eyes, the dark lashes, the pink line of his lips as he spoke. “I love you,” Tyler breathed, and paused, and the space between them suddenly became charged, as though filled with electricity. “Most ardently,” he continued, and Keller’s mind was almost blank in the face of the confession. Though he’d heard Tyler say the same thing several times before, he never tired of it. “Please do me the honour of accepting my hand,” Tyler concluded sincerely.

“Sir,” Keller said, his voice thick and broken. “I—I appreciate the struggle you have been through,” and here he looked away, flustered, “and I am very sorry to have caused you pain. Believe me, it was unconsciously done.”

Looking back to Tyler, Keller shifted at the intensity of the other boy’s stare. “Is this your reply?” Tyler quipped seriously.

“Yes, sir,” Keller said, feeling a shiver at the fact that he was calling Tyler sir.

Tyler’s face frowned in something like anger. “Are you laughing at me?”

“No.”

Tyler himself shifted at the thought of his next question, as though it were almost unbelievable. “Are you rejecting me?” he asked, face serious and almost hurt.

And now it seemed as though Keller could somehow find meaning in Elizabeth Bennett’s words: he was not worthy of marrying Tyler; he didn’t deserve a single day with such a person, and he glanced away as he said the next line. “I’m sure the feelings which, as you’ve told me, hindered your regard will help you in overcoming it,” he said. Keller had once upon a time tried to push away his affection for Tyler, fearing that he’d only eventually destroy the two of them – little had he known that Tyler had feared the exact same thing. There was something inside Tyler, Keller had realised, that had the ability to possess and wield something dark – and Tyler feared it, feared what it would do to the person he loved, and when that person became Keller, he didn’t want to hurt him. Their simultaneous need to protect the other was overwhelming, and it was something that they were still struggling with.

Whether Tyler saw the layered meaning behind their words or not, he continued. He now seemed offended and hurt, and even though Keller knew they were acting, it still hurt him to see Tyler like that. “Might I ask why, with so little endeavour of civility, I am thus repulsed?” he asked, tone snappish, as though disapproving greatly of Keller’s thoughts on his confession.

This in turn made Keller look up at Tyler, eyes flashing dangerously. “And I might as well enquire why, with so evident a design of insulting me, you chose to tell me you liked me against your better judgement?” he asked, anger in his own voice, and he took a step closer to Tyler, as though daring him to deny the layered insult he had delivered at the beginning of his speech.

Tyler mentally retreated. “Believe me, I—”

But Keller continued anyway. “If I was uncivil, then that is some excuse! But I have other reasons, you know I have,” he said, and it was in that moment that all the old hurts rose back up – and he could almost feel Elizabeth’s anger, channelling it as his own.

Tyler frowned, brow furrowed. “What reasons?” he asked warily, though it seemed more like a challenge.

“Do you think anything might tempt me to accept the man who is complacent in ruining, perhaps forever, the happiness of muggleborns everywhere?” Keller challenged, and he knew that it wasn’t fair to load that on Tyler – it wasn’t fair to blame him for what his house or his family believed – but it was what they had decided upon for the dialogue, and Keller poured all of his anger toward the elitist Slytherins into his words. “Do you deny it, Mr. Envest? That you stood by and allowed that kind of torture and mistreatment to happen, exposing those children to the world’s derision for their circumstance of birth, and therefore involving them in a misery of the acutest kind?”

There was a moment where they both stared at each other: Keller’s chest heaving in annoyance at the almost systematic abuse that people like him endured, and Tyler’s hurt at hearing the words. “I do not deny it,” he said quietly.

“How could you do it?” Keller challenged, stepping closer to the other boy, their eyes level with the other’s. Now, they were almost a breath apart, their bodies cold from the rain that drenched their skin and clothes, yet there were heated flushes on both their cheeks as they dared one another to move first – to break character. The pause between them grew, and it was only when Tyler moved to answer Keller that Keller moved first, bringing his hands up to the front of Tyler’s wet cloak and fisting his hands in the material. In one swift movement, he pushed Tyler back against the hard marble wall, bringing his body in close to the others’ until he could feel their chests expanding and contracting in unison. Their eyes were trained on the others’, wide and dark and full of a mix of emotions that would take years to unravel, and instead they did the only thing that could make sense of it. Tyler’s hand came up to lace through Keller’s wet hair and he brought their lips together, cold and pale and almost melancholic, but the kiss was never about the passion or the heat. Keller’s fists tightened their hold on Tyler’s coat but he kissed him back regardless, scared of the anger he felt that seemed to now go hand in hand with the love he felt too. Tyler’s hands were cold as they moved from his hair to his jaw, tilting Keller’s face just slightly as they deepened the kiss, and yet Keller still couldn’t unclench his fists from the front of Tyler’s coat – it was like they had frozen in place – and he had to eventually break the kiss and shake his head.

“What’s wrong?” Tyler asked seriously, no longer in character but instead himself, with all of his concern and worry. “Keller?”

His breath was shuddering and he looked down at his hands still gripping the coat, and he focused on letting go – easing his fingers one by one until he could drop the material and step back. “It’s just—here, being here-…” Keller closed his eyes and turned away from Tyler, looking back across the grounds which were simply sheets of rain. “Being-… being here where they lived and shared their ideas that actually were meant to be the end of me-… or people like me,” he said, not realising until that moment how much it had affected him, and he turned around to look at Tyler. “I don’t blame you-… not for any of it, I just-… I got caught up in it all-.. I apologise.” He felt ashamed of himself, and the anger he had felt before now faded away quickly. Tyler had brought him here for the winter break so that they could spend time together – it had been a kind gesture, something for them to do as a couple away from Hogwarts – and now Keller had ruined it. “I really am sorry, Tyler.”

The other boy shook his head and closed the distance between them, putting his pale hand on the side of Keller’s face and looking in his eyes seriously. Tyler always had an intense gaze, whether he was reading or speaking or even sleeping, and it was something that made Keller long to know what he was thinking of – to know the train of his thought and his ideas as they spread out like spider-webs in his brain. But Keller was left on the outside looking in – he could only see the dark hues of his eyes as they studied his own, and left waiting to hear his words. “You have nothing to apologise for,” Tyler assured him, leaning forward and kissing Keller once before pulling back. “Besides, we got to do the better half of the scene anyway, so I would say we done well,” he continued with a small smile. “Though you never did tell me whether you would do the honour of accepting my hand.”

Keller laughed, the sound broken but happy, and he smiled. “Of course I would, even if it was against your better judgment to ask,” he said, bringing his hand to hold Tyler’s and lacing their fingers together.

“We are all fools in love,” Tyler said wistfully as he used their joined hands to pull Keller out from under the sheltered roof of the patio and back into the rain, taking his time in his stride as they walked together back to the mansion, the rain soaking them through and through all over again.

[venatrixargent]

*kisses* You've caught the kissing disease. Now you've gotta pass it on to the next ten people on your dash.

        "Maybe you're right about there being something between us still."

[keller-murphy]

I want the K

number ten | neck kiss

Sitting beside one another in Anicent Runes had been their tradition since they’d both taken the elective in their third year. Keller thoroughly enjoyed Ancient Runes, but he knew that the girl sitting beside him loved it even more: she had been born and bred on history and artefacts, since both of her parents were curse breakers that travelled the world. Keller found these stories to be fascinating – the places that they’d taken Ambrosia or the places she’d seen in moving wizarding photos. It was in Ancient Runes class that Keller thought she shone the brightest: her eyes were alight at the information and her hand always shot up first. During those times, when Ambrosia was in her element, Keller realised that he really did love her – it wasn’t as easy to squash the feelings down and turn a blind eye to the way she would smile at him or laugh at his stupid puns. They were friends – great friends, actually – and Keller knew that confessing the way he felt about her and her smile and her knowledge and her vivacity would only ruin everything. But as each day passed, it was more and more difficult: they were coming to the end of their seventh year, and that meant that soon, they’d be leaving. If Keller didn’t tell her soon, when would he get the chance? Of course, the simplest answer was that he should never tell her – their friendship wouldn’t stop when they left Hogwarts, and there was still the possibility of ruining things then. Just because he wouldn’t see her everyday didn’t mean that the feelings would be any easier. Keller mulled all of this over constantly, wondering if I was worth the calculated risk. Did Ambrosia feel anything for him in return? Sure, she laughed at his terrible puns and she would sometimes brush his hand and blush, or sometimes she’d place her hand on his when she was comforting him, and it would linger there. But all of things were signs of friendship, weren’t they? Keller knew he was most likely over-analysing something that didn’t worry Ambrosia at all, and he sighed, placing his head on his hand and looking around the classroom as Professor Babbling continued talking. His eyes roamed over the students looking up at the professor eagerly, while noting those that seemed distracted, just like he did. Eventually, his eyes went full circle and fell on Ambrosia sitting beside him, her hair tucked back behind one ear while she twirled the quill in her hands soundlessly. Keller’s eyes moved almost against his will as he studied her face – the way the light from the windows made the hazel of her eyes seem lighter, or the way she seemed pale and beautiful and untouchable. He studied the curve of her small nose, the angle of her chin, down her neck that was exposed by her hair, and Keller wondered briefly – but not for the first time – what it would be like to kiss her there,  just once. To feel the pulse of her heart beneath the skin and to pull back and see the skin glowing pink from his touch – it was almost impossible not to lean forward and do it. Professor Babbling ordered them to pair up and there was a cacophony of movement as students moved chairs and tables in order to find the partner they wanted, and it was in this chaos that Keller threw caution to the wind and leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss against her neck, barely there. His face immediately burst into a blush as he pulled backward, catching her eye unwillingly as she seemed surprised and caught of guard at the action. “Sorry,” he murmured, breaking the eye contact forcibly and looking down at his books. He felt a sick, nauseous feeling rolling through his stomach, waiting for her to yell at him, call him disgusting, to say she’d never feel that way about him, that he’d violated her personal space – something. Instead, he saw her shift in his peripheral vision and she leaned across to kiss his cheek softly, lips soft and gently. “Now I’m sorry too, I guess,” she whispered, pulling back and smiling gently. Keller looked across at her and saw that she, too, was blushing furiously, and the pair of them sat there glowing for a few moments, drinking it in: the flush of affection, the promise of love, and then Keller cleared his throat. “So uhm-… do you-… do you want to be my partner?” he asked, looking at her, smiling at the double meaning in that situation. Ambrosia smiled, her hair falling from out behind her ear to cover her face for a moment, but she nodded. “Partners,” she agreed, looking back up, her eyes still holding the same light and excitement that they got during Ancient Runes, but now it was for Keller – because of Keller – and that was more beautiful than anything else.

[keller-murphy]

Brandon wants the K~

number one | hot, steamy kiss.

There was no grace to the way Brandon pushed Keller against the wall of the empty classroom; it lacked the usual finesse and smoothness that seemed to surround Brandon Crawley, and that made Keller smile despite himself and despite the situation. They had been working together, going over the maps of England and Scotland, placing small red dots on all the places here someone had been attacked or turned into a werewolf. It had become something of a comfortable routine for the both of them, who were just learning how to be around one another in any serious capacity. Their friendship was still tender, Keller thought; he had to learn not to take everything Brandon said to heart, while Brandon had to learn that Keller was not well equipped to humour. But, of late, the sessions in the empty classroom had gotten easier: the air was no longer stiff and awkward, but more often than not filled with their laughter and theories that Keller now found easy to share with the Gryffindor boy. There had been jokes of a sexual nature that had made Keller blush furiously, and this only seemed to encourage Brandon, who derived great pleasure from embarrassing Keller. But the jokes had turned to play acting – brushes of hands against hands, eyes meeting for extended periods of time before a laughter shattered the silence – and Keller didn’t know what to make of it.

He knew that Brandon was straight: he likes girls, and it was a reputation that had followed him around the school doggedly. Keller’s own sexuality was undefined; he liked whoever he liked and thought no more of it, but he wasn’t sure if he liked Brandon or not. He was a special case, Keller decided: Brandon was just different to everyone else, and he was learning more about that everyday. But the last two nights that they had been working had been charged with an atmosphere that made Keller uneasy, especially with the way Brandon kept looking at him at times. The Gryffindor’s eyes would sometimes linger too long, or watch as Keller pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose or when Keller took a drink of water. It was unnerving, but not unwelcome – Keller had been surreptitiously doing the same to Brandon since the beginning, he was just better at hiding it. Yet somehow, tonight was different – tonight was special. They had been leaning over the table together, faces only a breath apart as they squinted down at a few cities and towns that had been covered in red dots, and Keller had pushed his glasses up his nose once more and turned toward Brandon. “We did it – we found the pattern,” he breathed, and just as his smile had been about to formulate, there had been round hands on his robe and pushing him backward. And there they paused, Keller wondering if this was how Brandon got all his girls or if he was just special. The smile on his face seemed to annoy Brandon, who was dangerously close to Keller.

“What?” he snapped, broken from whatever spell he’d been lost in. “Don’t you…?”

“No! I just-… I thought you were, you know-… a lady killer, or uh-.. or whatever they call you,” Keller said, a blush rising on his cheeks as Brnadon studied him with narrowed eyes.

“If I was a lady killer, would I really be pushing a man against the wall to kiss him?”

Before Keller could ask which man he was planning to kiss (because it certainly wouldn’t be him), he was given his answer when their lips met in a force and flurry of heated energy. Keller realised that this – the kiss, that moment – was what he had been longing for since the beginning: to release the tension and celebrate their ability to work together in some tangible way. If Brandon had similar thoughts, he didn’t say, but instead kissed Keller hard, open-mouthed and heated, whilst simultaneously grinding his hips down against Keller’s. Unable to stop himself, Keller gasped into their kiss, not expecting Brandon to be so forward but also not hating it – in fact, he felt the opposite. His own hips ground upward against Brandon’s, insistent and desperate, and he found feel the moan that Brandon made, more than he could hear it. They broke their kiss momentarily, gasping for air as their clothed hips continued to meet in a hasty and uncoordinated rhythm that Keller wasn’t sure he knew the origin of, but wasn’t going to fight against.

“Bran—Brandon,” Keller murmured, moving his lips down to Brandon’s neck and kissing the skin he found there, but it was his hands that fell to Brandon’s hips, halting their movements, that caught his attention. “We-… not here,” he said when Brandon looked up at him questioningly. “We-… we uhm-… I don’t know what this is or-… if you’re just-… but we-… not here.”

When Brandon pulled away from him, Keller wasn’t sure if he had hurt Brandon’s feelings or if he was mad: he had the kind of face that was difficult to read unless he was smiling, and even then, Keller couldn’t tell Brandon’s smile of happiness from one of sarcasm. He waited anxiously for Brandon to say something – anything – as they shifted away from the wall where Brandon had cornered him and back to the table. Keller watched his movements carefully, cautiously, and at last Brandon ran a hand through his dark hair and looked at Keller. “You owe me one, Murphy,” he said, a wry grin forming on his face as his eyes locked with Keller’s, while Keller’s heart pounded in his chest at the burst of hope and happiness that seemed to be strung along with Brandon’s words. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Keller smiled, blushing and looking down at his hands for a moment before turning back to the map which they had been studying previously. “I look forward to it,” and he once more pushed his glasses up his nose and turned to Brandon, but this time the closeness between them was one full of meaning and potential. 

[keller-murphy]

I want the K~~

number nineteen | forceful kiss

The common room was thunderously loud when Keller entered, his arms full of books that he had just checked out of the library after a particularly draining study session. He had heard from several passing students’ whispers that the party in the Ravenclaw common room was “legendary”, whatever that meant – and he remembered with a jolt that he had missed the quidditch game completely. He felt terrible as he stepped through the portrait hole and clutched his books close to his chest; normally he attended the game to support both his friends and his house, but he had been so caught up in his studies that he had missed it altogether. Hoping that he could dodge the Captain himself, Keller skirted around the outside of the common room, keeping his head down and trying to walk squatted, so as to not be spotted, when he was suddenly cornered against the wall near the staircase by a long, thin arm, attached to a lanky body, a head of curly hair, and a goofy – drunk – smile. “Nathan!” Keller said, relieved that it was his friend instead of Nolan. “Uhm-… hey, and uh-.. congratulations on winning.”

There was a kind of glazed look in Nathan’s eyes as he looked at Keller. “What are you doing?” he asked, as though confused by the books in Keller’s arms and the direction in which he had been walking.

“Just uh-… just going to my dorm and…? Yeah?” Keller said, shrugging, and stepping around Nathan. “They’re rather heavy, so I’ll just go and…” Breaking off, Keller attempted to walk past the boy but found his way barred.

“You should stay and celebrate,” slurred Nathan, who was now pointedly not looking at Keller’s eyes but his lips hungrily. “We won the match, you know.”

“Yes—… I-… yes, uhm-.. congratulations,” Keller said again, feeling flushed from head to toe and not knowing where to look: his own eyes darted between Nathan’s, down to the boy’s lips, then back up again. His face was hot and he felt as though there were minimal air in the common room: Nathan seemed to be drawing closer, his body shifting to meet Keller’s at the hip. “Nathan, I really-… you’re drunk, and I-…”

“I’m not that drunk,” Nathan said simply, shrugging, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “I like you, you know, Kell.”

“I-… I like you too,” he replied quickly, looking away from Nathan. “I really should…”  But before he could even get out the words that he should leave, there was a warm hand pressing insistently on his chest, and Keller took a step backward, finding his shoulder blades hitting the wall. His eyes frantically darted around the room, wondering if anyone was seeing this, but they were all too busy dancing around in the centre of the room, where the trophy was sat squarely. Keller’s lip flitted out and liked his lips as he looked back to Nathan, who was now watching Keller’s lip intently. “What-… Nathan, uhm-.. what are you…?”

“You talk far too much and far too quickly,” came the slurred reply as Nathan’s lips seemed to draw closer with every word, and Keller practically got drunk from the firewhiskey on Nathan’s breath. But for some reason, he wasn’t stopping this: he could feel his heart pounding under Nathan’s palm and his body want to shift to align with the other boy’s. “Has anyone told you that?”

Keller nodded quickly, eyes flickering from Nathan’s, down to his lips, and back up again. “They-… yeah-… uhm-… some have…”

Nathan’s lips were so close now that they ghosted over Keller’s jaw, and he swallowed thickly and instinctively turned his head until they were simply an inch away from kissing. There was a tense moment where Keller could feel the books in his arms tremble and Nathan’s fingers curl into the material of Keller’s shirt. It was electric, and Keller looked into Nathan’s eyes, flickering between them, and found something kindling behind them, struggling to rise above the firewhiskey in his system. Whatever it was – whatever was going on – Keller could now feel his curiosity piqued. He had always felt something when it came to Nathan, the boy who hid his intelligence behind closed eyelids and sleeping the day away, when Keller knew for a fact that he was capable of so much more. Keller’s hand rose from the books in his grip to linger at the line of Nathan’s jaw, wondering what it was that Nathan was so scared of finding should he embrace the person he was. He would have been a formidable presence in Ravenclaw, both in the classroom and on the quidditch pitch; he was capable and skilled, Keller knew this, but why did he shun it so vehemently? Nathan was looking back at him in a curious way, and Keller wondered what it was that he saw in that moment – did he see just another warm body, casually vacant and easily available, or did he see Keller?

There was no other way to go about it than to simply do it, Keller decided: if he wanted answers, he had to be proactive. He let his hand that was resting on Nathan’s jaw fall to his chest and, curling his fingers into the material of his quidditch robe, Keller used his strength and sobriety to spin and push Nathan against the wall, reversing their positions. The drunk boy looked shocked, though not unhappy: a wry grin fell onto his face, as though it had been what he’d wanted all along. Keller didn’t pause to wonder how he was playing into Nathan’s hands but forcefully pressed his lips to the other boy’s, insistent and angry and frustrated all at once, and just when he’d been about to pull away, Nathan kissed him in return. The beater’s hands moved to Keller’s neck and hair, pulling him closer, and Keller was helpless but to drop the books and respond by using both hands to fist in Nathan’s robes. Their kiss was intense, laced with unanswered questions and doubts and confusion on both sides, and it was only when they were out of air that they parted, Keller’s chest heaving and his lips red. He stared at Nathan, more confused than ever, before he quickly stooped, grabbed his books and held them to his chest.

“Congratulations—again,” he said, and without waiting another moment, he turned and ran up the staircase, not stopping until he was in his dorm and completely alone. But despite being removed from Nathan’s presence, the kiss still lingered long after, and Keller knew he would probably never understand Nathan Anderson – but that didn’t mean he would stop trying.

[keller-murphy]

I want the K ;)

number five | firm kiss

There had been so many times in Keller’s life when he’d wanted nothing more than to kiss Julia – whether it was when she was crying or looking sad; when she was curled in on herself in her dorm room, refusing to leave; when she smiled and Keller saw right through it, noting how hollow it seemed and wondering why no one else saw it. He wouldn’t say that these were the moments when she was the most beautiful – but they were the moments when she seemed the most human of humans that he had ever encountered, and there was something beautiful in that. Keller saw her as real – her mind and body made her feel so many emotions that they almost threatened to overwhelm her at times, and Keller was helpless in finding that fascinating and beautiful. She was one of a kind; you could travel all around the world and never find someone as Julia as Julia was; she had the kind of smile that graced the faces of the shy girl’s next door in the movies and the eyes that lit up brighter than fireworks on New Year’s Eve when she was happy. Keller was enthralled by her, whether she was in the middle of crying against his shoulder or walking beside him on one of their many nightly prefect patrols. But now they were hurtling head first toward graduation, and he would no longer be there to help her whenever she needed it; he would no longer be her shoulder to lean on, her confidante when things went terribly, her motivator when she couldn’t get out of bed. Keller could feel that resolve inside him dying slowly as the day approached and eventually arrived – he couldn’t let her go, it was that simple. Julia had always been one of the most solid things in Keller’s life, even if she herself felt shaky and fragile. Their friendship had grounded Keller and gave him confidence and purpose where he’d previously had none, and even if Julia didn’t know it, she helped him a lot in return in finding who he was and what he wanted in life. Graduation meant severing their ties that had formed since their first year together, and no one was prepared for that – least of all two people who had entwined themselves so platonically together. Keller knew that cutting out Julia from his life would be one of the most painful things he’d ever done, but there was no choice: they were not in a relationship, nor were they heading in the same direction career-wise. There was panic and urgency laced through Keller’s bloodstream as the day approached, then the hour and the minute – and soon, they were handed their certificates and announced as having graduated. Where the elation should have been was sickening fear as he glanced through the hordes of students celebrating, spotting Julia by her golden hair. Today, she was smiling, and though her eyes were bright, he could tell she was already struggling. “Julia!” he called, and at the sound of his voice, she turned, and there were the fireworks that burst and brought light and happiness to her face, and Keller weaved through the crowd to find her. “I-…” He didn’t know what to say, and looked down at her insistently, desperately: what could he do to make this better? “I-… I’m going to miss you,” he said at last, and without waiting to see if she’d answer him in kind with the same sentiment, he put both his hands on her cheeks and brought their lips together, firm and tender and Keller could only hope that she felt everything there from the first moment they’d met: the love, the kindness, the care. Keller broke the kiss and searched her eyes, worried but also relieved, feeling like a weight had someone been lifted off his chest for having done that, though Julia herself looked stunned, eyes staring up at him. “I’ve-… I’ve just wanted to do that for a really long time,” he explained, swallowing thickly and pressing into his memory the feeling of her soft lips on his. “And if-.. if we’re going to leave one another, I just-… want you to know—” but before he could finish, there were hands gripping the front of his dress robes and pulling him down to her once more, and even if heads turned and eyebrows raised, Keller didn’t care – Julia deserved all the happiness she could get, and if she found it with Keller, then he wouldn’t stop her; not for the world.