Letting Go

I know there isn't much background stuff. I was focusing more on the raw emotion instead. Feel free to rip it to pieces. *bracing self*

...

“Blaise, you idiot!” I screamed, chucking a throw pillow at him. He easily dodged it, taking a small step to his right.

“Kat,” he said calmly to me. “I think you’re overreacting.”

“Overreacting?” I yelled. “Overreacting? You have not begun to see me overreact!” I hurled another pillow at him, which sailed over him as he ducked. It hit the wall with a soft thud.

“Do you not realize how stupid that was? You. Are. Such. A. Bonehead.” I grabbed at the couch for another pillow, but found I had already lobbed them all at Blaise. I settled for a cushion.

“Oh, so Alec tries to kill you and you keep your cool,” Blaise said. “But I save your life and you throw a tantrum. Am I the only one who sees the irony?”

“Blaise, you almost died!”

“But I didn’t!” said Blaise, exasperated. “And better me than you,” he muttered. Unfortunately for him, I had good hearing.

“No,” I said. “Not better you. Never better you.”

Blaise’s probing blue eyes met mine, and I could feel tears start to build up. He stepped over the low, black coffee table to where I was standing by the couch. Since he was four inches taller than me, I had to tilt my head up to see his face.

“Kat, what do you mean by that?” he asked, his voice soft yet demanding.

“Don’t you get it?” I asked. A tear slid down my cheek. “I don’t want to live if you’re not here. You’ve been my best friend since forever. I can’t remember you ever not being here. If you left, I'd be alone.” More tears fell from my eyes, and I sat down on the couch, trying not to break down. I hugged my legs to my chest, and rested my head on my knees.

I had come so close to losing him. I had never been more terrified in my entire life.

"You'd still have your family," he said reassuringly.

"That's not the same, and you know it. You're my only real friend."

I could feel myself sink slightly, and knew Blaise must have sat down beside me. He put his hand on my back and rubbed in small circles, obviously trying to comfort me. He was so close I could smell his cologne.

My throat constricted, and my pulse quickened. What was wrong with me?

“Just your friend?” Blaise asked gently.

I looked up at him questioningly. His coal black hair hung in his face as always, partially hiding his midnight blue eyes.

Out of those same eyes I had seen nearly every emotion possible: joy, anger, sadness, fear, envy, satisfaction. But now they hosted a new emotion, something I couldn’t name. I had never seen it before.

Blaise’s hand slid to the small of my back, and I gulped. Not out of fear, but, though I wasn’t sure I was ready to admit it, pleasure.

His free hand cupped my chin, and tilted it upward. Then his mouth was on mine.

My brain may as well have died. The only thought I could string together was, ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh. I was getting dizzy and my vision started to blur; I realized I had forgotten how to breathe. But it was like riding a bike. In, out. In, out.

I couldn’t have told you how long we stayed like that. It might have been a few seconds, or it might have been hours. All I knew was that when Blaise pulled away, both of our breathe was ragged.

Did I like the kiss, did I want him to kiss me again? I had no clue. Was I inwardly freaking out on a major level? You know it.

Every one of my instincts were telling me to run, to flee, to get as far away from there as possible. But it was as though I was chained in place; I couldn’t move. I was frozen.

Blaise’s fierce stare made shivers run up and down my spine. In a good way.

Without a single word our lips were once again pressed together. My mind told me to push him away, that I was too confused, too unsure to be smart about this.

But by this point I was too emotionally drained to care. For the first time in years, I dropped my careful hold on life and gave in. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and turned my head to kiss him deeper, ignoring the warning my mind was blaring. I pressed against him and inwardly let go.

Sure, I would regret it in the morning, probably more than I had ever regretted anything. But right now it felt good, better than anything, ever.

And who knew, maybe there wouldn’t be a tomorrow. Then the moment would have been given up for nothing.