I grab Henry by the back of the head, lacing my fingers through his hair, and push his lips deeper into mine. I feel so small pressed up against him. He’s something sturdy I can hold on to—something that I know could support me. I’m not particularly short by any means, I think, but with Henry, I feel that way. I feel protected like, for once, I don’t have to fight for attention. I don’t have to fight for his affection because he gives it to me, and that’s what makes it feel so good when he kisses me like this. I don’t have to fight for his attention because it was already mine the second that he laid eyes on me.
Isn’t that wonderful? I think, running my hands down Henry’s firm chest.
After I stopped crying a little while ago, Henry let me take his shirt off again, and I’ve been happy ever since. He could keep me happy like this. It’s too bad not everyone gets to make out with their best friend. This is wonderful.
I can’t help but grin and pull Henry closer. I clench my fist in his lovely red hair and accidentally tug down on it, which then causes Henry to buck his hips suddenly and groan against my mouth. It shocks him enough so that he pushes me away and apologizes sincerely.
“Sorry, sorry,” he rambles, blush rapidly filling his cheeks, “I didn’t mean to.”
I roll onto my back and tuck one of my pillows under my head, sighing happily, “It’s alright. I don’t mind. I’m flattered really. Nice to know you think of me that way.” I wink at him for added effect.
Henry's face turns a bright red that matches his hair, and he tries to hide by tucking his face into his arms. It’s cute and makes it almost impossible to look away. Big scary lumberjack man falls apart with a little flirting.
He peeks up at me from over his elbow, and I can tell he’s smiling. It’s all I need. I would stay in this moment for the rest of time if I could. We’d just be two young boys, deeply enthralled with each other, grinning like birdies and happy as could be, forever. How wonderful that would be. I think my life could be wonderful.
“James,” Henry starts. He always starts with ‘James’.
“Yeah?” I can’t get my voice above a whisper.
“How’d you know I liked you?” he asks honestly, and it surprises me.
“I didn’t.”
“What?”
“I didn’t know you liked me,” I explain. “In fact, that’s news to me now.”
Henry sits up and positions himself across from me, forcing me to sit up to face him too.
“Then why did you kiss me?”
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-
Three days earlier
Henry holds his hand out to me, but he’s standing too far away for me to reach. My socks and shoes and shirt have already been discarded elsewhere. I don’t know; they’re somewhere along the riverbank.
I’m hesitant.
“Don’t be afraid,” he coaxes me, wriggling his fingers to encourage me forward.
“You want me to come into the river?” I ask for confirmation. I’m just stalling.
“Yes, c’mon. It’s alright.”
Is it? Usually, we’re more downstream where the Mississip’ cuts off into creeks, and we mess around in the streams. We never go this deep. The swarthy water terrifies me. You can’t see even an inch below the surface, and the watercourse is faster than I’m used to. I know I can trust him though. He wouldn’t lead me astray, right?
“Okay, okay,” I mutter, reaching a shaky hand out and dipping my toe in the opaque waters.
I push my weight forward, but when my foot keeps falling, not hitting a bottom that I expect, I panic and slip with a yelp. Henry catches me though, grabbing me by my hand and my elbow to steady me.
“And immediately Jesus stretched out His hand and caught him, and said to him, ‘O you of little faith, why did you doubt?’” he quotes, looking down at me with a smile.
Matthew 14:31.
“Because I was scared,” I answer, and Henry laughs quietly.
“Aren’t we all?”
I look down at where our legs disappear into the murky river and frown. Earlier I rolled my pants up past my knees, but that doesn’t matter. They are soaked with water anyway. Henry doesn’t have to worry about this; he stands at least a foot above me always. He’s untouchable.
I turn my attention back to Henry, and he lets go of me, walking out into the middle of the river. I don’t move. I stand in place as the freezing water rushes over my thighs.
“It’s cold,” I complain.
Henry smiles and reaches down, cupping some water in his hands and throwing it into his face and hair. “It’s refreshing.”
“It’s February.”
“Perfect.”
I roll my eyes and slowly wade over to where he is. I think I’m starting to shiver. He sees me like this, my arms crossed across my chest, desperately trying to warm myself. For some reason it makes him smile. Maybe he’s a sadist.
He brings his fingertips to the surface of the water and splashes me playfully, making me flinch away. “Lighten up and enjoy it. Get moving. It’ll warm you.”
“Doubt it,” I mutter, stepping away from him.
Henry reaches down and splashes me again with a smile, challenging me. “Have we learned nothing about the consequences of doubting me?”
I grin and send a wave of water right back at him, which makes him jump back and retaliate. Soon enough, we fall into the patterns of typical youth, playing around in brooks and embracing our boyish livelihood. We’re nothing but children, close to realizing that we shouldn’t be. Cold water soaks through my clothing and sticks to my skin, but as Henry said, it ceases to bother me. I should really trust in him more often.
I try to take a step back to escape Henry’s barrage of attacks, and as I do so, my foot catches on something beneath the surface of the cloudy water. I flail my arms out in an attempt to rebalance myself, but it avails me to no extent; I fall backward into the water anyway. It shocks me at first, but rather quickly, I push my head up to the surface once again and gasp for air. Then I see Henry laughing. He’s doubling over and holding his stomach because he’s laughing so hard. I don’t know whether to be offended or humored.
Even though I decide I should be irritated, I can’t resist cracking a smile after a couple of seconds. Mostly because I find great fulfillment in seeing him like this. He’s happy, so that makes me happy. He’s perfect like this.
He turns his head just barely and meets my stare. His eyes are beautiful, brown and full of that spark—that sign that he’s living, not just breathing. Little does he know; he’s got his whole life ahead of him. I wonder if he realizes how beautiful he is. I mean, he must; I can never seem to look away from him, and that should be reason enough.
My friend wades over to me finally and holds out his arm, offering to assist me. I accept and grab onto him. He takes my other arm too for more leverage and hauls me onto my feet as if I weigh nothing, but he underestimates how close to that measurement my weight actually is and puts too much strength into his pull. I stumble forward a bit without realizing how close it brings us until it’s too late.
Standing straight up, my eyes are even with his chest, which heaves with heavy pants while he desperately tries to catch his breath from his incessant laughing fit earlier. Water rolls down his skin in beads, and it does nothing to deter my everlasting urge to touch him. I drag my gaze up to his face, and Christ, I think I’m about to have a panic attack. The way he stares down at me makes me feel so small, and the way he’s looking at me right now, like I’m something to admire, is killing me. Does he know what he’s doing to me?
His red hair falls in stringy wet strands across his forehead, and his lips part just the slightest bit to let his warm breath escape through. And I need to kiss them. I want to kiss him, and this time that craving is more tempting and irresistible than ever.
So I do.
And I can’t believe it. The feeling of his kiss is something that I’ve yearned for so long, and I finally have it. He’s so warm, and his lips are so soft. They fit perfectly with mine. It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. And the best part is…
He kisses me back.
“Henry!”
He jumps back from me and glances over his shoulder, not letting go of my arms. Then he looks back down to me and hesitates. “I … I have to go.”
I nod just slightly, still dazed by what just happened. He starts walking backward a bit, one step at a time until his arms fall away from mine. He then turns to leave, but it’s almost like he’s reluctant to, looking behind himself often as if trying to make a decision on whether to stay or go. It’s pointless though because he knows there’s not really a choice. So, he leaves.
And I’m left standing, soaking wet, in a freezing, cold river.
But I kissed him, so maybe it isn’t that bad.
Or maybe I ruined everything.
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-
As soon as I finish talking, Henry swoops in and kisses me once more, pushing me onto my back, and it’s exactly the same as always: perfect and swoon-worthy. Then he pulls away and hovers over me with that smile.
“So brave,” he compliments me. “I was too cowardly to do it.”
I get flustered and try to hide my face, but Henry doesn’t let me, leaning down to kiss me again. He wraps his arms around me as well, engulfing me entirely against his wide chest and in his strong arms. I feel so small under him like this. I feel so small always with him. I feel safe.
And it’s so wonderful.
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