Hell - Bent

Katherine's POV:

For a brief moment, there is only Andy and me, and our lips pressed passionately together. And then reality sets in.

At first, I'm shocked that he's even here, kissing me at all. Then I'm angry at him for even daring to his lips on me, then I'm disgusted in myself for enjoying it. And finally, a wave of nostalgia knocks into me, and I'm back to the very first time we met, where he saved me from me previous jerk of a boyfriend.

It takes all of my willpower to push him away. And when I do, I immediately regret it. For two reasons, one because the look on his face is absolutely heartbreaking, and also because I was actually enjoying myself, which I mentally curse myself for. I miss the pressure of his lips on mine, how they glided smoothly across my own, how soft they were, and just how gentle he was. I enjoyed it. And now I regret it.

"Andy, I'm-"

He raises a hand to silence me, bowing his head slightly, "I get it. not ready for commitment or anything really. I'm sorry, I'll go."

He turns to leave, and I feel my heart rip in two, and I'm suddenly at war with myself. Do I follow my heart, or my brain? Which one is more accurate, which one will leave me less heartbroken? Well, I'll never know if I never try and follow my heart.

I lunge for his retreating form, grasping his shoulders and spinning him quickly around. The shocked look on his face makes it worth it, but my mind is elsewhere as I press my lips to his once more.

he grins into the kiss, locking his arms around my waist, lifting me up off of the ground a little. I smile back, allowing for our tongues to meet for the first time. Everything feels amazing, and sigh into the kiss.

Just as my lungs begin to burn slightly from lack of oxygen, he pulls away, the biggest smile on his face as he gently pecks my lips once more. Andy touches his forehead to mind and nuzzles our noses together adorably. I reach up on my tippy toes pressing my lips to his again. And again.

As I'm about to press our lips together once again, he puts a finger on my lips stopping me. "Shh, not now," he smiles softly at my pouty face, "you're rushing things."

I roll my eyes, continuing to pout, but my expression softens at his grin.

"I believe, you still owe me a date," he smirks cheekily.

"I believe I do."

Notes