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Post by cynthia montague on Feb 7, 2009 13:50:51 GMT -5
It was so painful feeling his breath against her skin, he was too close to not be touching her, torture. Cynthia had never been a patient girl, and it took him so long, it did hurt. But still in an exciting, thrilling way. What an odd feeling. Then there was disappointment, when his lips didn't meet hers, but that feeling didn't last for long. His lips against her hot cheek got the blood in it threatening to explode together with her heart. It was almost as much a relief as it was hurt when he pulled back and looked away, giving her the chance to correct her breathing. She moved a hand up to her cheek, a poor effort to fill the hole his lips had left. How surreal, perfect, wasn't this moment?
She had no memory that could possibly top this, not even her first real kiss, not any sweet words or perfect gifts. She loved every part of this scene, every single brick of the wall, every single floorboard, everything sharing the same air as them, Jude and Cynthia, together. Although it wouldn't look as much too their eyes, if they had had any. It would be a shy girl and a shy boy with problems with hooking up. Normally so far from the truth, but Jude made her feel strange. Her normal confidence was gone, she knew that she wouldn't be able to just say 'whatever' and go find some other boy if she did something wrong and he lost all his interest in her.
Cynthia was still dumbfounded, happy, excited when he gave her another question, speechless, she could only nod. Please, Please Jude, not just one - that was what she meant, but she would sound too desperate, too obsessed. As if she wasn't. And seeing she was still trying hard to breathe normally, she didn't have to worry about keeping the words inside of her.
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Post by jude whitby on Feb 7, 2009 14:18:30 GMT -5
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Post by cynthia montague on Feb 7, 2009 15:22:05 GMT -5
She didn't get the chance to think about it this time, but somewhere she knew what would come. And when it did, she would have shrieked out of delight if she could have brought herself to moving her lips away from his. They fit so perfectly, it made her wonder if maybe there was a god above, two sets of lips couldn't be so in sync, Cynthia was sure she was made for him, it could hardly be a coincidence. She let go of his hand and placed both of hers on his shoulders. She was about to wrap them around his neck, but she stopped herself, she wouldn't want to be too... clingy. Well yes, she wanted to. She wanted to be too close, hanging onto him forever, but she strongly doubted that he'd enjoy that. And there was a risk of pulling him off of his barstool, maybe even strangling him. She realized that this was what she'd been waiting for all the time, and she wasn't going to let Jude go. Bloody hell he tastes just like heaven.
The cold truth was that the kiss couldn't go on forever, and eventually Cynthia realized it and ended it. But she couldn't bring herself to backing away, she kept her arms on his shoulders, smiling like a fool. Still with her eyes closed. Was that when she was supposed to say 'Jude, I love you'? No it couldn't be it, people confessed that after months of dating and thinking. Still she felt so sure of it, how could anything else be the truth? Had anything every been that true before, as true as Cynthia loves Jude? Opening her eyes and looking at him gave her an obvious no. Nothing was so right.
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Post by jude whitby on Feb 7, 2009 15:42:18 GMT -5
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Post by cynthia montague on Feb 7, 2009 16:09:51 GMT -5
He spoke, and she found herself both nervous and excited about the words to come. They didn't, but that smile he gave her was so much sweeter than any words ever could be. And he kissed her on the nose, how sweet wasn't that? She didn't quite like his request though, what could she say? That was one of the rare moments when she didn't like her life, she'd prefer having something fascinating and interesting to say. And it seemed like such a waste, talking about herself when someone like him, when Jude was there. Such a horrible waste of seconds. "Uh.." Cynthia started awkwardly before having decided what to say. The only thing she could think about, the only thing that mattered would be 'I'm in love', but she wasn't going to say that. He'd feel awkward, either feel forced to say something he didn't mean, or just... Simply creeped out. They hadn't even known each other for two hours.
"I'm Cynthia Montague, I work at a pub and used to be a Ravenclaw" She said hesitantly. It sounded so stupid and unimportant to her, but it was the most normal sentence she could think about, describing herself. "I like coffee and poetry" and you. She frowned a little, it really was a terrible waste of time.
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Post by jude whitby on Feb 7, 2009 16:33:54 GMT -5
[/i] Jude had on purpose not mentioned what he worked with, well that he didn't work. He was suddenly embarrassed, well not embarrassed. But afraid that she wouldn't approve, that she'd think he was just some twenty-year-old kid. Which was actually sort of amusing seeing that Jude in many ways had an old soul. [/size] [/ul]
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Post by cynthia montague on Feb 7, 2009 17:02:47 GMT -5
Cynthia's frown immediately disappeared by his words. And it wasn't just the usual satisfaction, him calling her beautiful didn't just please her, it made her happy beyond the description of words. Well for a second, at least. It was small, but it was there, he sounded bothered, she couldn't shake it off. Panic struck her, what had she done wrong? What had she done, what had she said, he'd seemed so carefree and now suddenly there was concern beneath his happiness. She kept her face calm, although with a somewhat stiff smile, while rapidly going through everything that might've gone wrong. Didn't he like that she worked at the pub? That couldn't be it, he'd known that all the time. Was it her name, some family feud - she'd heard uncountable jokes on that topic -, no she doubted it, his last name didn't seem familiar. What, he disliked Ravenclaws and other people into poetry and coffee? Even less believable.
"What's wrong?" Cynthia asked him. Actually, she didn't want to know, but she needed to. She couldn't stand not knowing what was on his mind when he sounded like that. Just perfect, when she for once believed that everything could be. "Well still, better than enough" She thought, caressing his neck with light fingers, way better than she knew she deserved.
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Post by jude whitby on Feb 7, 2009 17:32:40 GMT -5
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Post by cynthia montague on Feb 7, 2009 17:50:05 GMT -5
Oh that was a problem now? Cynthia stiffened and pulled her arms back, she wasn't happy, and even though she still wanted to touch him, she didn't want to accidentally dig her nails into his skin. "Twenty-five" She frowned. His age was hard to guess, he didn't look younger than her, but not older either, so why was he even thinking about that? Well he did seem to have lived a rough life, maybe alcohol and smoking had made him look seven years older, and she was about to hear 'I just graduated from Hogwarts'. Oh please don't let that be true. It was the first time in her life she felt old, too old.
She had always preferred older boys over the ones in her own age, always men over boys, and even though Jude couldn't be called anything else than a man, a wonderful one, she didn't like the thought of being the old one. But she didn't want it to matter, everything had been perfect, seconds ago. "It doesn't matter to me" Cynthia said simply, coldly. She didn't want to seem rejecting either, but she was afraid. It must've mattered to him, he wouldn't have brought it up anyway.
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Post by jude whitby on Feb 7, 2009 18:10:07 GMT -5
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Post by cynthia montague on Feb 7, 2009 18:51:13 GMT -5
One of the reasons to why Cynthia dated older guys was that they'd been through more. They never hesitated, never considered. Those relationships, where she was just a doll between their grown-up hands, they never lasted long, but it was great fun until they started pushing her limits. She hated that Jude wasn't even making an effort, just words, not a sign of reaching out for her. Either he was lying and it really did matter to him, or he was just terribly careful, sweet in a way boys dealing with younger girls weren't. She wanted to believe him though, she did, she loved him. His tenderness hurt her. Five years. Well it wasn't that bad, was it? Well yes, thinking a ten year old with a fifteen, that was really bad. But forty and forty-five, there was nothing odd with that. Twenty and twenty-five... It wasn't like it would be breaking any unwritten society rules.
Cynthia relaxed. It was still a frown, but a softer one, more insecure. It wasn't that bad. And he didn't really seem disgusted by her. "Are you sure?" She asked him, her voice was remarkably much softer, even weak, now that she let her guard down. It didn't matter, it couldn't. Five years was nothing, her whole twenty-five would have flied by if she knew what to expect, that she'd meet someone like this. Jude was worth everything, at the very least trying to make it work, if he wanted to. And it couldn't be hard, she was made for him, wasn't she?
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Post by jude whitby on Feb 8, 2009 3:59:21 GMT -5
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Post by cynthia montague on Feb 8, 2009 4:59:31 GMT -5
His lips immediately put a smile on hers. She couldn't be bothered to think about something as stupid as years, merely time, when he touched her. Five years didn't matter, and besides, she felt like her life was starting now, at this night, no matter how long she'd been alive before. And when he spoke, as he spoke, she was sure no one could ever have made those simple words sound that perfect, not even those articulate princes in her story books. He amazed her, Cynthia wanted to scream, 'I love you Jude Whitby, for sure', but she could only stare, wide-eyed at the man who claimed to be lucky. Committed. That he cared, that he wanted her. A part of her didn't want her to believe it, because those kinds of things were just too good to be true, he was mocking her, but for once, Cynthia didn't care about being realistic and sensible.
She grabbed one of his hands with both hers and brought it to her lap, tracing small circles on it with her thumb while shaking her head. He was perfect, and she was, had always been and always would be his. Now she was sure that he was hers too. "I won't" She promised. The smile on her lips wasn't the biggest and brightest she'd worn, but she'd never been happier before, not even close to.
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Post by jude whitby on Feb 8, 2009 5:38:45 GMT -5
[/i] never had he been so happy to hear those words, they filled every inch of his body with joy. He didn't object as she took his hand into her lap, he just started at it, as she traced circles on it, lucky lucky hand. He turned his eyes to her face again, there was the most beautiful little smile on her lips, she looked happy. But he doubted that she could be anywhere near as happy as him. "It feels nice." He had no idea why he kept talking, she didn't seem to want him to, at least she didn't give very long answers. But Jude couldn't help himself, his mouth finally seemed to have opened up, and now he couldn't shut it up again. Plus he still loved the tone of her voice, it was the sweetest music he had ever heard. Millions of different love songs played in Jude's head now, he'd never liked them before, he didn't like them now either, but they made sense now. Still they didn't cover what he was feeling now, this almost painful happiness inside him. He looked out the window, the rain had stopped. He hadn't noticed before, because he had been to caught up looking at Cynthia. He wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not. He didn't wanted to part, but surely they couldn't stay in the pub, could they? That would be wonderful, just sitting here touching each other, hearing her speak. Yes, wonderful.[/ul][/size]
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Post by cynthia montague on Feb 8, 2009 6:15:38 GMT -5
It was all so vivid, every scent, every sound, every colour, every fragment of the moment was so hard to take in. It almost hurt Cynthia's eyes, looking at it all. She was getting tired too, all she'd wanted before Jude had entered was to close the pub and go home and sleep. Her head was starting to feel heavy, but she couldn't just say 'I should go get some sleep, I'll see you around sometime', no she wished that they could just stay there until the manager came and opened the place for breakfast. She knew that wasn't possible though, she couldn't make Jude stay there all night, and she didn't want to upset her employer either.
She wanted to speak, to seem at least a little less retarded, but she couldn't come up with anything that mattered. Everything sounded so stupid in her head. Nice? Nice again? How could anything about this night feel nice? Cynthia couldn't agree, nice was a word used when meeting some annoying cousin, 'Yes mother, she was nice', or when a friend asked you about a lame party she'd thrown 'Yeah, it was nice'. This all just felt wonderful, unbelievable, perfect to her. But he could say whatever he wanted to, his voice would still please her more than anyone else's ever had, ever would. She smiled and squeezed his hand slightly as she stopped stroking it, and leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek.
It was still overwhelming, just as the first time, his skin, his scent, his taste. "It's late" She stated after sitting back down on her barstool again. She didn't want it to be late, but neither did she want to deny it and end up falling asleep right there in front of him. That would be embarrassing, much worse than blushing.
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