“Are you in love with me yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Hm. Shame. I’ll just have to keep you around for a little while longer.”
“Keep asking, the answer will change. And soon, if you keep putting your legs on top of mine.”
“What, these old things?”
“Stop it or I will not be responsible for my actions.”
I climb on top of you and conquer your body with mine. My knees hug your hips and squeeze tight. My arms go on your shoulders and I level my lips with yours. I kiss you softly, though. Barely touching you. You hold your breath and I can tell you’re debating if this is enough or if I need to be put on my back.
“Are you in love with me yet?”
You breathe —finally— deeply. “Yes.” You take my head with both hands and look me in the eye. “Yes. I have been in love with you since the first time I saw you. Since you took off your sunglasses under the rain and I saw your eyes —I knew I would never get tired of looking at them rain or no rain. Since you took my hand not even a minute later to go up the stairs — I knew I would follow you anywhere. And I have been in love with you since you ordered us both a gin & tonic even though it was barely six o’clock because according to you we were going to need it to play mini-golf —I knew I would have any drink that you thought necessary and otherwise. So yes, I am in love with you. You have to change the question now.”
I kiss you again. It’s not soft this time. This time, I’m unleashing the passion that you inspire. You’ve reached the decision that I need to be put on my back and I have to agree with you, I’ve been wanting to be under you since you came up to my flat. Feeling your bodyweight always makes me feel centred and grounded. Odd.
“Are you in love with me still?”
“Yes. And that you can keep asking but it won’t change.”