he uh, really insists on this sort of thing, doesn’t he.
it’s not unappreciated, soda thinks furiously. it’s a little bit hard through the haze that is her mind whenever dustin touches her, and she’s not sure why she’s even denying her dislike of it when she’s supposed to be denying her like of it, but look the point is she thinks furiously.
and it spirals like that, with the smell of his shirt and the warmth of his arms and the protective pressure of his body around hers, intoxicating and overheating and overwhelming, and she will never get used to this, will she. she’s not going to get used to dustin being, what was the word, affectionate? yeah, affectionate. nice to her. physically nice to her. hugging her. and, uh, what came after that too, sometimes he did that to her too. those made her especially dizzy. they were nice. what, no they weren’t. she hated them. she hated getting close to him. she wasn’t supposed to get within arm’s reach of him, the last sensible part of her brain told her furiously, but it wasn’t her blame him because he was getting within arms reach of her,…
so all this means she’s not quite aware of what she’s doing: sinking into him. her body wasn’t listening to her brain. new law: let go, her brain said. vetoed, dustin’s arms said. she didn’t know what that word meant but it sounded pretty nice to her. heart said, you don’t need to know a word’s meaning to know its feeling. and it was right! who ever listened to their brain anyway? heart was the much better choice.
she’s smiling without realizing it. dustin’s arms are warm, she thinks again; he smells nice, she thinks again. his voice is nice and sweet and she’s got one hell of a sweet tooth for it. even if she could think of some choice words for his use of “rad”. dustin lee, future boyfriend: abandoned by the side of the road for the use of an 80′s slang term.
soda’s voice is disgustingly dreamy as she says, “ ‘s pretty nice, yeah. ”
@brushrush.
