Swift, possessive and hungry, that was what the caress of his lips felt like. Her eyes were closed, enjoying the moment she knew wouldn't last forever. He paused for a moment, drawing deep breaths, his eyes looking at her with a certain hunger she couldn't comprehend. Her body, she knew, complained, for she knew that it wanted to feel his lips on hers.
He stopped, leaned against the wall, his grey eyes scrutinising her features. She stared at him too, ignoring the longing her mouth possessed. She hadn't noticed her lips were dry, well; at least she'd have something to blame him for again.
"Hi," said he.
"Likewise," said she.
He lifted her small chin, his hand on the small of her back, pressing her close so their bodies seemed to be one. Her eyes met his and as usual, he saw contempt, contempt that seemed to erode away. Those eyes had already been watching him, but she couldn't help a small sigh of contentment as his lips moved to envelope hers once again.
"Stop," she murmured, but did nothing to deter him. For as she muttered stop, her arms wound around his neck, driving the kiss deeper than it had already been. He had taken advantage of her open mouth, slipping his tongue where (she felt) it didn't belong.
"We're in public," she said, pulling away, albeit reluctantly.
He smiled. "We're just saying 'hi' as the friends we are."
"I like the way you say 'hi'."
"So do I."
And they laughed, linking arms and walking towards the lake, leaving two old busybodies behind.
"Funny way, teenagers greet each other these days, eh, Martha?"
"You don't have to tell me twice," replied Martha.
While the two ladies discussed the two, the subjects of their conversation were strolling around the lake.
"That was a good show, Jake." Her eyes seemed to mock him, as she smiled.
"Not bad, if I say so myself." He smirked. "Your method of kissing, however, leaves little to be desired but what do I expect of a socially inept person such as yourself."
"Oh?" She smirked. "Then it's a good thing I'm not your girlfriend, but your enemy instead. You see, if I were your girlfriend, you'd be tortured day after day then."
"Certainly," he said. "However, if you were my girlfriend instead of my most hated enemy, I would give you a proper education."
"I'm sure you're a terrible teacher."
"I wouldn't know, I've never taught."
"Do you think my friends caught that show?" she asked. "It would be a waste of my acting skills if they didn't."
"Do you think my friends did?"
"With our luck, perhaps not."
"Why not? I'm lucky. I got to kiss you, didn't I?" He smiled. "And you gained valuable experience."
"You're the strangest enemy I've ever had."
"No, you're probably the strangest."
He smirked. "That's highly debateable."
She ran her fingers through his hair, mussing it up, much to his annoyance. "Do you still hate having your hair messy?"
He laughed. "No." His faced relaxed. "Do you still hate me?"
She bit her bottom lip. "Yes."
He rolled his eyes. "Is this still about 'Holiday Barbie'?"
Laughter rumbled from her throat. "You killed her, but, no, that's not why I hate you."
He placed his hand upon his chest. "You struck me there, how could someone as adorable as me be hated?"
"I hate your arrogance." She smacked his arm. "I hate your friends." She slapped his face. "I hate how you treat me."
And he caught her arm, his eyes steeled.
"Haven't you noticed that I hate you too?"
"Wait," said she, "I'm not finished."
"I can't wait."
She smiled. "I hate the fact that you beat me in Science without effort. I hate the fact that people love you and you know what-"
The curtain of night darkened against the appearing moonlight and for once, she could see his dark green eyes against the light. Her finger trailed his jaw line. His body tensed.
"Going to slap me again?"
She paused, letting her mind rationalise her situation, rationalise the fact that she had shared a warm kiss with her hated enemy (and enjoyed it, and even welcomed it). Maybe her mind could try to find the logic in such a situation. It was a long pause. A certain silence that made him shift in his place by the fountain.
That was when details seemed to come alive. The night seemed darker, the stars shone brighter, the garden seemed more beautiful and they realised the fountain was marble. More importantly, his eyes looked darker, the sky blue looking intense as he awaited her reply. His hair looked better, she noticed he didn't use gel, it was just that way. She started to notice his nose, though she had no words for that. She noticed his lips, the lips that had met her own.
"Why are we enemies?" he asked, disturbing the silence. "Oops, wait, I'm sorry, I'm interrupting," said Jake, his tone sardonic.
She smiled. "No, I don't want to say anything. My brain is still working out all the bugs of what we just did. Why did we do what we just did?"
"Not really, Maguire."
"So, why are we enemies?"
She laughed. It wasn't melodious; it was more like a throaty rumble. For a moment, he contemplated whether he could change the laugh.
"We're enemies because I love you until I could die."
Eyes widened and breath caught in throat, he leaned forward. "That's why I hate you too."
He cupped her cheek and she moved her arms to form a circle around his neck. For a moment, it was just a simple peck of the lips. In a second, one could tell they would be more than just friends.
"Did I do something wrong?" he asked, as she pulled away.
"No," she smiled. "I just like the way you say 'hi'."
This was random. What do you think?