A kissing scene for you all, from my first novel. I hope you enjoy!!!!
Then Evan was pulling Sallie forward, again. “Oh, Sallie.”
But she was past the point of reason. She was talking, and she realized what she was saying, over and over: “Dead! Dead!”
“Calm down, Sallie.” He swore again, and touched her shoulder. “We need to get you out of here.”
She stopped, and looked at him, her focus sudden. “You need to get everyone out of here.”
“Yes,” he agreed, “But mostly you.”
He’s still here. The voices, chorusing together.
“Not me.” She stopped, and slipped her arm from his grip.
“Sallie, this is not the time!” he said again.
“Clear out,” she said. “Clear out everyone. But leave me.”
“Stop with the sacrificial nonsense. Do you have any idea of what it was like, knowing you were in here?” Evan demanded. “It was like a million explosions going off. We had to fight our way in. I had to make way for Claudia and Leonie, and I couldn’t even follow.” He was bleeding faintly from the wounds on his chest, the wounds from yesterday. “Knowing you could be killed at any second? Unable to see you, to—” he shook his head—“To protect you?”
He’s still here.
“Get Amity outside,” she said. “And get Tom. You have to protect him. He’s not from here.”
“Tom, of course, get Tom,” he said. “I’ll bloody get Tom after I get you out of here!”
“No! You have to save everyone else!”
“I have to save you!”
“Herrick killed Brenna!” She could see the statement hit him, and she felt horrible. She could see the pain fill his eyes. Perhaps he would listen, then. “He’s killed everyone who’s helped me, and I can’t let him escape.”
“He couldn’t have killed my mother.” Evan shook his head. “She would be safe.”
“He told me himself. You have to leave, Evan. You need to take care of your family. You have to take care of everyone.”
“He’s a liar. He didn’t kill her.” But she could see that he didn’t believe it. “What about Lon?”
She shrugged. “He must still be alive. You have to find him. Save everyone. Be like the Guard he talked about. Be his hero.”
“You’ll always be the hero, Sallie.” Even though death was looming, as bright as the day—when had it become full daylight?—she couldn’t feel it. “And I can’t leave you. Someone needs to keep an eye on you.” He put his hand on her cheek.
She stared at him for a precious second. Hurry! Hurry! The voices were clamoring, ringing, and she knew she had to listen to them, help them, and that they could help her. And she threw her arms around him again, but this time, she pulled him close and kissed him, hard. She could taste blood and sweat and every emotion they each felt. And he anxiously leaned into her, and she could feel his anguish and hers in the adrenaline of the battle.
It was her first kiss, and she never wanted to kiss another person but him again.
They broke apart, and she gasped for air. It had been a mistake, of course. Now she knew he wouldn’t leave her. She shouldn’t have kissed him. “I didn’t mean to do that,” she whispered.
He stared at her, and moved his hand from her face. She hadn’t even noticed he was still touching her. “No.”
“Go!” she screamed. “I don’t want you here! Go!” And she found the wind, in her anger, and she felt a storm, and she reached, and stretched, and she brought it right on top of them.
She turned away, and ran, so he could not follow her in the strength of the gale, so she could not see the look in his eyes. She felt him scrambling to follow her, and she did the right thing, the only thing, and pushed him back with the wind.
