The Broken Eye(300)

She was standing right in front of him. This close. His mind wasn’t working—shoulders? shoulders?!—and wow, her lips were close, and full, and her eyes were wide and emerald green on green and terrifically distracting, and her eyelashes were long, and her cheeks were pink, but maybe they were always pink, or maybe it was cosmetics? And why couldn’t he, with his Guile memory, remember if they had been pink before this moment? and Orholam have mercy, blood was flooding his cheeks, and, and, and, he was supposed to do something, wasn’t he? Yes. Yes, he was.

He was supposed to kiss her. Oh shit.

He was supposed to kiss her, right now, before the moment passed. But what if she didn’t want him to kiss her? What if he was misinterpreting the signals? He’d never been signaled before. He could well think she wanted him to kiss her, but maybe she’s signaling something completely different. Orholam have mercy, if she did want him to, and he missed the signal, she’d think he was a complete idiot. He was young, younger than her, and she’d think of him as a child again, and then he’d be set back in her regard forever. Maybe she’d cancel the wedding.

Wait, she’d asked him a question, hadn’t she? But what—how was he forgetting everything?!

His ears were hot, and his shoulders were taut as drums beneath her hands. She removed a hand from one shoulder, and he nearly leapt, nervous tension thrumming through him. Embarrassed, he looked down at his feet, unable to bear the eye contact. He’d totally botched it.

Shit shit shit!

And looking down, he saw not his feet, but straight down the front of her dress. Orholam’s—breasts. He froze. Now there was a sacrilegious thought. Not that he’d ever worried too much about sacrilege when he said ‘Orholam’s balls,’ and surely Orholam made balls and breasts both, right? And then, he was aware he’d frozen, looking at her breasts—no, no, not looking. Looking implied that you just looked. This had gone on and on, this was a stare, at least. He’d have a gray beard by the time he tore his eyes away. Maybe that made it a leer. But a leer kind of implies some intent. It makes it seem creepy, and he wasn’t being—it was—

Orholam’s breasts. It had been too long. She couldn’t fail to notice. He looked up at her, wincing.

“Anything I say is only going to make this worse, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Shhh,” she said, smiling sympathetically. “Relax.” She picked up one of his hands, which had been held ramrod straight at his side, and pulled it up to her waist. “I happen to think it’s adorable.”

Adorable. ‘Adorable’ is what you called puppies and poppets. There’s no way to say ‘adorable’ without pitching your voice up, as if speaking to an infant, Oh, that’s adorable. And then you pinch a cheek.

She took his other hand and placed it on the back of her own neck. She sidled in close, pressing her body against his.

I’ve just been emasculated. By my own stupidity and social ineptitude. Adorable. Dammit, Kip, there was your chance and you—what is she—?

And then she pulled his head down and kissed him gently on the lips.

Kip … lost a few moments in the sweet smell of her breath—who has sweet-smelling breath? Isn’t breath, at best, a neutral o— And the sweet soft moistness of her lips, and the sweet soft pressure of her body molding itself to his.

Oh. Oh my.

She released him, and, nerveless, he let her slip away.

“Kip, I know we barely know each other, but I find your quirky mix of innocence and strength … intoxicating.”

Kip swallowed. “Guess it’s a good thing I’m already blushing from, uh, the other thing.”

“And why’s that a good thing?”

Because otherwise my blood would be getting confused which end of me to rush to. “So I don’t have to go to the effort of blushing anew,” he said.

She laughed, and he stole a glance at her cleavage. And then felt weird. Now that they were basically betrothed—they were betrothed now, weren’t they?—was he supposed to stare at her boldly? Or was it leering?

Orholam, I don’t know anything!

He glanced at the door.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Honestly?” he asked.

“Honestly.”

“I was kind of hoping bad people would break down the door, and I’d have to fight them. I actually know how to deal with that kind of thing.”

“The virgin thing, huh?” she said.

He groaned. “Er, kind of hoped I’d buried that in all the words after it.”

She pursed her lips, eyes twinkling. “There might have been another hint or two.”