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Lily

He kisses me like I was the last inhale of oxygen left on earth. He kisses me as if his life depends on it. Like he would die if he stops.

The rumbling sounds coming from him vibrates on my chest. It goes through me and into my blood. I am high on it. I am high on him.

The soft strands of his hair keep slipping from my grip. They were so silky and soft. I can't get myself to stop touching them.

I let out a pained whimper when he suddenly stopped. He rests his forehead against mine, eyes closed and breathing heavily.

I don't know what I'm feeling. I don't want to know anything. I want him never to stop holding me like this. To live in this moment forever.

His eyes open. They looked droopy. The grey slowly crept back into his pupils.

"What are you doing to me?" he asks, his voice hoarse. There was fear in his voice.
"How can you make me do things I never dream of doing?"

I didn't answer because I didn't have an answer. How could I?

"Why can't I get you out of my mind? I can't stop seeing your face. I can't stop thinking about your words. Your voice. Your eyes. They haunt me. You haunt me."

I gulp down the sudden lump in my throat.

How did we get to this?

He was my Professor, for heaven's sake. But the fact made it all more thrilling.

"I don't know," I whisper. " I can't get you out of my mind too."

He looks surprised. As if he never expected that response.

How could anyone not be infatuated with him?

"Tell me what you wrote."

I raise my eyebrow in question.

"Tell me exactly what you wrote."

At first, I don't understand what he was saying. But then I remember what I told him earlier. I basically admitted to writing about him. I was such a fool for telling him, though, after the kiss we just shared and his confession, it doesn't seem all that wrong.

"I can't remember," I lie. I remember every word down to the last punctuation.

"Liar," he says knowingly.

I duck my head, embarrassed. For some reason, I suddenly felt so shy. I don't know what got into me earlier. Where did I get the confidence to do that?

"Fine," he sighs. "You can show me tomorrow."

I nod in agreement, unable to speak.

I still had my arms and legs around him. Now that the haze has cleared, I feel his arms heavy on my back, holding me to him. His thumbs swept back and forth on my back.

I squirmed, but he must have thought I wanted to get down. I didn't want that. I wanted him to continue holding me. I shouldn't. I shouldn't, but I wanted it.

"I won't put you down just yet. Your feet are bare."

Right.

That must be why he still has me in his arms. Not because he doesn't want to let go of me. But he kissed me. He also said he couldn't stop thinking about me.

What does that mean?
What sort of relationship were we going to have now that's we've crossed the lines? The Forbidden lines.

Suddenly he was walking with me in his arms. I yelp in surprise and unconsciously tighten my hold on him.

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