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That First Step She had to psyche herself up. Run around her stomach with a butterfly net and try to

That First Step

She had to psyche herself up. Run around her stomach with a butterfly net and try to get things under control. Her socks felt like they were showing too much off, a window all the way up to her knees. Her socks felt like armour, steeling herself for what she had to do.

And she did have to do it. She had to answer that door and let him in, and then she had to let him know, in no uncertain terms, that she wanted him. She bit her lip. She fidgeted, shifting from one foot to the other. She played with the hem of her dress, trying to find an errant thread to pull and tease. Worry at. 

The doorbell rang, and she sank. A puddle on the floor. She sighed.

Her hand was at the doorknob before she could think, and she was grateful to it. If her body could autopilot through the first few stages of this, she’d be that much better off. To take charge, even for a moment, seemed alien to her, some foreign weight of lead in her stomach that made everything sluggish. 

But she wanted him, and she was done with waiting. She was done with the flirting that didn’t go anywhere fast, and she was done with being far too coy about just everything when he was around. She was done with the prologue, and she was ready to get eyes deep in chapter 1. 

He was standing there as if she wasn’t ready to collapse into a pile of atoms at any moment. There was a slight smile, and he canted his head to one side. For a moment, indecision hung between them, and she almost let it seize the moment.

But she grabbed it instead, surging forward up onto her tiptoes, and pressing her lips hard against his. His eyes flared in surprise, before his arms slipped around her, walking her into the room while she kissed him ferociously. It was a pleasant surprise, and one that had him laughing between their lips.

“What are you-?” He managed to get out between breaths before she kissed him again, grabbing his collar and pulling him towards the bedroom.

It was just about enough time for him to regain his composure, and once they were past the threshold he pushed her away. Worry coursed through her like a lightning bolt, like she’d fucked this up so soon, screwed by audacity.

But he was still smiling. And he just pushed her again. Hard, this time. And she stumbled back, tripped up by the bed before she fell back on it.

“I see.” He murmured, and the world righted itself. 


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