More of that, please.
“I want to kiss you, and becoming a couple would make me think I’m entitled to ask…possibly often,” he continues.
Ah, right. That makes loads of sense. Kissing. What couples do. Kissing. The ultimate vitamin C requiring action.
The idea of giving up my first kiss after twenty-two years is a little disconcerting. It’s a big change. Life impact-y. I’d need to be completely sure about that one.
I still feel small and helpless and in need of an adult. Maybe that’s why it was easier for me to doodle on him than it is for me to think about this kind of milestone.
Coloring has never been framed as a mistake just waiting to happen because men will find themselves unable to control themselves around someone who looks like me.
Even though my mother is now gung-ho concerning promiscuous activity, entire multiple decades of the opposite lessons cling.
Trusting my own decisions is hard.
Living in a world full of imposed regrets around every corner has left me more than a little anxious. I am never right. There are always consequences for being wrong. Sometimes the things that were once right aren’t anymore.
I am constantly seeking validation that I’m not screwing everything up.
New is scary.
The threat of losing something I’ll never get back is scary.
Everything is scary.
“I’d expect you to contemplate marrying me someday,” Lukas adds, while I’m still fumbling through the idea of being kissed, by Lukas, or anyone else for that matter.
My heart flits. “You’re still thinking about that stuff I said earlier?”
“For the many highly negative emotions I have regarding your mother, I do not dislike this scheme of wedding and bedding me.”
I’m not certain her blueprint came in that order. “When did you grow so comfortable with the idea of bedding me?”
“Since you wrote your name all over my heart and I decided that if you ever want me like that, I would beg you to want me like that forever. You say if you fall in love with me, you’ll make me drown. I trust that you’re capable of such a lovely promise. I trust you, and I look forward to a world where I never need air again.”
My heart swells with the picture.
“I like you, Clara,” he says, with such calm confidence. “If you like me, let’s explore that, at your pace.”
“I don’t want to frustrate you if I’m too slow. I can suck it up and be an adult and pace myself with you if you’re ready for more. Relationships are about compromise.”
“Compromise is not giving your partner whatever you think they want. Relationships are about care and communication. I’m morally against rushing you where it concerns how you feel and what you want—especially if your body is involved.”
“Morally,” I echo.
He takes a turn rolling his ethereal eyes. “Odd, I know. I do have a moral code around here somewhere. I trip over it sometimes and start cussing.”
I finish the last of my milkshake, watching him the entire time. “You’re very bad at all the things you seem to fear the most. I thought we agreed that you’d stop holding back, so I could practice standing my ground without negative consequences, but you haven’t been all that forceful since.”
“I’m terrified of pushing too hard too fast and scaring you away, or—worse—going farther quicker than you can realize you want to stop. Lov…” He corrects himself. “Liking you means being careful during this transition time. I am more than aware that I’m capable of force and would find many ways to justify its use. You deserve better. You deserve tenderness. Your wishes deserve to be a priority.”
Finally, a taste of the toxic he promises he is.
His attention falls to his food, and he frees a taut breath. “Also, I have issues with rejection. I’m afraid of asking for something I care about and being toldno. I can’t coerce you with begging. That wouldn’t help you. Sonowould meanno. As it should. Obviously. But what helps you the most is letting your rejection mean a clean and instant halt, and that doesn’t ease me through the aftermath well.”
I mull his words over, then I take a chance on the fact he’s always let me be honest and myself. Without getting upset, helets me talk and asks questions until my thoughts are heard and understood. I can do that for him, too. Iwantto do that. I want to hear him and understand him and grow closer through that understanding. “Are you sure you’re as terrible as you seem to believe? You’re so kind to me, Lukas. Even if I say no to something, I don’t think I know how to say no to you anymore. I might want to put my pens down, but I’ll also want to curl up in your arms.”
“Not if I disgust you.”
