Just A Kiss She pushed away with a smile that wavered as she turned her back and made the short commute home, her fingers trembling, almost dancing to the pulse in her veins. Although something warm was growing in her chest, she could not help feeling the shame and irresponsibility - she wanted to hide, similar to that of a child that shies away from an angry parent. The loss of control was her own fault, but she had a thin air of vulnerability about her, as if he'd pursued her to her darkest corners. She could still feel the inadvertent anger of his grip on her back, the glide of his lips lingering on the corner of her goodbye. She coughed uneasily. It was a pathetic attempt at distracting herself from thinking too far. Her walk became a light jog at the turning of her road. She had just over a year than he did and, for some reason, that made it feel wrong; she felt dirty and delighted. It was easy to acknowledge that this was the opening of an end. She was sent to him. She liked to think of herself as his fairy - she had to make him happy, to hold his hand in the rough, to be there just incase, to lead him to the right. She was his protector, but had been succeeded by just this single fleeting moment.