I love this day now since I have things to post. Okay, a few of you already read this scene yesterday. I wrote it in like ten minutes, and so it probably has a few rough spots, but I hope you guys enjoy it!
Background Info: Low was throwing rocks at Ken's window, she let him in, they got into a tiny fight and now...
My breath caught, as Low suddenly moved over me, his hair falling into my eyes, caressing my cheeks. In my chest, my heart was doing jumping jacks and though it was dark in the room, I could still see his dark, dark, deep eyes.
"Don't you ever say I don't care about you Kendall. Don't you ever say that." Something wet fell on to my lips. It tasted like the ocean, warm and salty.
Low was crying, Low was crying for me.
His nails dug into my arms, and then before I could protest, he was leaning in.
Our lips met.
I responded like anyone would respond to someone kissing them. I let him take my lips hostage, but it was only when I realized that there were no fireworks going off behind my eyelids, that I came to my senses.
Push him away. Push him away, my body was screaming but I couldn't make the muscles in my arms move. The tears I'd been holding back all night slipped out of my eyes and mixed with his.
Low came up for air, leaving my lips bruised and broken.
"You are so beautiful," he whispered and then he was kissing my collarbone, my jaw, my neck, his lips burning my skin. I let out a soft cry. I didn't want this. I would never want this.
It was only when he reached for the buttons on my shirt, that my muscles unfroze, and I pushed him away. He moved back a little, his body still over my body, pressing me into the bed.
I could almost feel the springs.
"I don't...want this."
He was breathing heavily. I was breathing heavily. Low didn't seem to hear me or he maybe he just didn't want to.
"I don't want this, Low, I don't."
He sighed, a loud audible sigh and got off of me. The bed creaked as he sat up. His curls were falling in front his eyes, now.
"Kendall, I'm sorry, I'm so..."
"I shouldn't have came here tonight. I don't know what I was thinking.
"Just go, please, go." My voice was soft and weak.
Low stood up and walked to the door, his footsteps as quiet as a ghosts'.
"I'm sorry," he whispered one last time before he softly opened the door and slipped out. I didn't hear him leave but I could imagine him running across the lawn, across the street, to God knows where.