First Kiss.

It started with a kiss, in the driving rain. Mud ankle deep, making it difficult to stay upright in the surge of bodies all around them, a wave sweeping towards the stage. The main act striding forth dramatically, arms aloft, the screams all around them as deafening as the music to come would be. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist to prevent her being swept away, and gazed deep into her green eyes. They were beautiful, he thought, wide, but gateways to a sadness that perhaps this gig was an escape from. She gazed back into his, a peace washing over her face that he found incredibly calming to himself. They stood, just looking, no words; the horde passing them by, the beginnings of a meaty rock song dulled to just background noise. He could feel her breath upon his neck as she nestled her head in it, the pulse of her heart thumping against his chest. His breathing quickened then slowed almost instantaneously, a temporary confusion surging through his body. There were thousands of other girls in this crowd, yet none of them had faces, none of them had the aura that she did. Soaked hair stuck to her face, so he reached up and brushed it to the side, his wet fingertips gently tracing an arc down over her cheek to her chin. Her lips curled into a smile as he did this, and her hand reached up to his face. Her skin felt soft against his, electrifying despite the deluge. The ticket had cost a small fortune, and the show was being missed. Yet this was priceless to him, worth more than the price of a thousand tickets. Unexpected. For a fleeting moment he questioned why on earth she’d chosen him, the geeky-looking kid with the nervous disposition and the clear stench of hopelessness. She wondered why he felt so little of himself, she being the daughter blessed with looks but several complexes about the direction her family had wanted her to take. Both wanting the freedom to be who they really were, deep down; this concert being a rare chance to indulge in that before returning to the shackles of their everyday prisons. Another kiss, long, lingering; warmth surging through each of them enough to forego the chill of what had now become somewhat of a monsoon. A warmth that went more than just skin deep, a warmth that struck at their very hearts. Momentary as it may well turn out to be, it was a moment of hope; that their teenage selves wouldn’t always have to be cast to the sidelines of social politics. A kiss that awakened something inside of them that had long lain dormant, something that reassured them of being able to feel. The music continued to blare, people continued to scream, they continued to be nourished by the kisses and the tight embraces and the holding of hands. And then it was over, each going their separate ways armed with a goodbye kiss and a scrap of paper on which an address had been scribbled. Each going their separate ways armed with a promise that this wasn’t to be the end of their burgeoning adolescent romance. 

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