Advent Calendar for Grown-ups by Alexandra Iff
“Evie… What are you doing here?” I quickly stand up on my feet.
“I wanted to apologize. The way I’ve been treating you. I shouldn’t… I mean, I should, after what you di…. but,” she talks quietly, but more to herself, her eyes lowered on her fumbling hands. “But then…”
“I don’t need an apology. You can go home.”
“N-no. I,” she takes a step forward and looks at me. “I want to. L-lately I’ve been hav… I mean, what did you mean when you said, ‘Step back, before I come too close’?”
“Isn’t it clear?”
“Yes. I mean no. I mean, I know you won’t hurt me, I can feel that. But if that’s not it then…then… What did you mean, Connor?”
I look away. What do I say? That she’s been inside my head ever since I laid eyes on her?
She comes a step closer, like a little petrified animal when it’s offered food. Carefully treading the wooden floorboards, walking quietly too. Her eyes following my every move. But she doesn’t stop.
I look at her again, and straighten up to my full height, to tower over her. That always does the trick when I try to instill fear in my opponent, but even though she is small, she is mighty. With her eyes only she could knock me down, in a second.
“You’re too close, Evie,” my deep voice is forbidding. She should know not to play with fire. She stops, but only just a foot away. Looking up, at me. So close. So fearless.
As much as I struggle, I know I’m going to kiss this foolish girl if it’s the last thing I do. My eyes focus on her lips, which are now moist from her tongue running over them a few times in the last minute. She wants it too. I give her one last warning, I make a move and close the gap between us but she is still bravely waiting for me, for my kiss. Then, at the moment when both of us lose our heads, we kiss, slowly, curiously. I hope this is not some kind of ruse her mother thought of. I pull back, I need to see her eyes again. They tell me so much, but they are closed.
“Please… don’t stop,” her words are the fuel I need.
I kiss her again, passionately. I want to taste every inch of her and if by that it means kissing her eternally, I will. I pull away yet again, breathing raggedly.
“I have nothing good to give you.”
Her feeble hands are over my chest, and only scrunch my t-shirt in her fists as she pulls me in again.