Kissing Day Blogfest : In Honor of Mistletoe

Yay for kissing day. I once wrote an entire post on kissing, though you won't find it on this blog. It included the history of me and all my kisses and ended with "the kiss that hurts".

What?

A kiss that hurts?



Oh yes. The kiss that hurts.

We've all been there. Kissing the man we love goodbye because he is leaving on a business trip. Or kissing him hello because something terrible had just happened and you thought you would never see him again. Or even a kiss that signifies a break up that you are not entirely sure you want, but know you need.

The kiss that means nothing but at the very same time means everything. The kiss where you close your eyes and your face tightens because your entire mind is wrapped around that kiss. The kiss where you place your hands on his face and hold on for dear life because you never want to let go, though you know you are going to have to in a very short amount of time. It takes your breath away until your lips part. And afterward you step away staring at each other and gasping for air. This is the kiss that hurts. My unlucky character got to experience one of these. For a bit of a different reason, but it still hurt nonetheless. And to make it worse, my MC, who is painfully in love with him, had to witness the entire ordeal. It is possible that this kiss hurt more for her than the two involved.

They stopped on an empty street corner. It was dark and damp outside. The only lights surrounding them were from the street lamp above and the blinking traffic light beside them. “Rachel, I know you are going through a rough time right now with Oliver, but he is your husband. Regardless of whether or not I notice more than he does, he is the one you are with. Not me.”

I was proud of Michael for telling Rachel this. She needed to hear these words. Michael needed to hear these words. I feared he often forgot this himself. Unfortunately, as quickly as I was feeling pleased about Michael’s acknowledgment, Rachel was doing the unspeakable. She leaned in toward Michael. The next thing I knew she was kissing him. It was not like the kiss I had encountered with Greg. This was a kiss where I wished I could have been her. Their mouths had become one and his arms grabbed her closer until there was no longer any space between them.

I fought to think about my kiss with Greg, every little detail I could remember. I thought about the horrible breath that lingered from the extensive amount of onions he had consumed. I thought about his pointy tongue trying to penetrate through my firmly closed lips, but it did not work.

Time, up until this moment for the most part, had slid by unnoticed. But this moment - This moment where I longed to be Rachel’s lips pressed up against his, and Rachel’s waist held firmly by his arm, and Rachel’s hair flowing over each of Michael’s fingers - This moment lasted for what seemed to be an eternity. Again, I could not shake the feeling that there was something more, some force working against me.

The laughter was louder and more pronounced this time. It was also more malevolent. I knew it was near and knew it was meant for me. Someone was reading my thoughts or watching me. They were witnessing my failure to influence Michael, and they were entertained by it. I could tell the laughter was that of a woman’s, but did not see any other person or soul anywhere near. It was just Michael, Rachel and I as far as I could see. But the laughter continued, as did my frustration.

However, I continued to hold my concentration, to provide distraction. For one slight moment I felt confident it may have helped as Michael broke through their embrace and gently pushed Rachel back. When I looked into Michael’s eyes though, I knew the accomplishment was small. There was agony in his eyes as he stared at Rachel and watched her fight back the tears glistening in her eyes. It hurt him to see her hurt.

“I’m sorry Michael,” she said slowly, refusing to let the tears fall, she was feeling somewhat humiliated. “It was just that the moment was right, and I’ve wanted to do that for months now, and I just let the emotion overtake my common sense. It will never happen again, I promise. Please don’t tell Oliver.”

And without any notice she had turned away and began sprinting down the road away from Michael. Michael stood there, like a statue. He seemed stunned by the passing events. I could only imagine the thoughts cascading through his mind.

I knew the thoughts running through my own mind. I felt guilty. I knew this was my fault and I knew he would not have continued to kiss her had I not had the idiotic moment of weakness where I wished I were Rachel. I couldn’t stop Rachel’s actions, but I did have some small control over Michael’s. I had to make this right.

So that is my kissing scene. It's actually the only kissing scene in that manuscript. Sorry for all the poor grammar and such. It was my first novel and I had MUCH to learn after I wrote that. Well enjoy you kissing fest! I'm off to read some blogs!