The Beauty and the Inked

Seventeen: First Kiss

"I'm sorry for asking," Logan said slightly squeezing my hand. His features give it all away; the sympathy, thoughtfulness, and all.

"Its fine," I let out an airy laugh. But deep inside, I hate what I feel. I hate to remember why I feel hateful towards my family. All I can think about is hatred, and it's driving me nuts.

"I think we should better go," his hand was no longer on mine. That's better. I don't like being pitied.

As we walked out of the cafe, my mood hasn't changed a bit. Maybe because I'm just tired and stressed? I don't know.

"So, you'll visit again tomorrow?" he asked.

"Uhm, yeah definitely. Since I will be starting to work on Monday, I have to—"

"Wow!" Logan cut me off, he was all smile. Believe me, I can feel his happiness radiating. For a moment, I want to laugh with him, but I wasn't really into it right now.

"Yeah, I'll work as a librarian."

"That would be great," Logan is still very nice. He didn’t change even a bit; still friendly, easy to be with, vivacious apparently. That's why I enjoy his company when we were younger, even though.

I gave my number to him, just in case he needed to notice me about my Dad. We were having a nice conversation as we approached my Dad's room, there were nurses coming in and out of the room.

My heart stopped beating.

Logan ran towards the room as I was left unmoving, my feet won't lift to make a step, and I can't seem to apprehend the commotion in front of me.

"Call Dr. Conrad," one of the nurses said, she was calm. But the movements of the other people in the room tell me otherwise. They were crowding my Dad.

Get away! I screamed inside.

I can't hear any beeping from the machines inside the room, all I can catch on are their whispers.

"What's happening?" I almost unrecognized my voice, fear dominates it, "What's happening?!" I asked, louder this time.

Please. Somebody answer me.

"Yssa?"

My heart almost leap, it's Zack. He rests his hand on my shoulder. The tension that I feel lessens, but the anxiety, and fear was still creeping its way inside me.

"Zack," I cried. I'm thankful that he's here, but my mouth won't produce any words. I lean on his shoulders, the lump in my throat keeps getting bigger. What's happening to my Daddy? Please, please don't let anything happen to my Dad.

"It's okay, shh," he assured me. He wrapped his arms around me, and for the second time, the tension lessens. I want to be in his arms for lifetime. I want to feel his warmth as his arms soothes all the pain that I feel. His hands ran up and down my back.

My eyes were closed, trying to shut people out of my world. It's just Zack and me. Zack and me. I don't know how long I was crying on his shoulders, and I am grateful that he doesn't pushed me away, just like what he did before.

My Dad will be fine. There's nothing to worry about, right? Logan and the other nurses and doctors will do their best. They have to. Because they were ought to.

"Yssa," Logan's voice caught my attention. I pulled away from Zack.

"What happened?" I asked Logan. His expression was unfathomable. Please, don't let anything happen to my Dad.

"His heart stopped beating..."

Zack's arm wrapped protectively around me, and I was on the edge of losing it. My knees were getting weaker and weaker.

"But we managed to revive him," Logan's words made the room to stop spinning.

I can hear Zack's sharp breath intake, and his hands ran up and down my back again, "I told you, it'll be okay," he murmured. I nodded as tears escaped my eyes again, "Don't cry," he cooed. The pad of his thumb brush against my tear-stained cheek, his touch was soft and calming.

"Can we see him?" he asked Logan. I didn't hear or saw Logan's answer, but Zack led me inside.

I stride towards the side of the bed, "Daddy," I cried. My eyes won't stop from watering, and I hated it. I should stop crying. Stop, Yssa. Stop.

The steady beeping of the machines filled the room. I'm glad that I can hear again the life of my Dad.

I'm not ready for him to leave. I will lose it, and I will be forever guilty. This is unfair; my Dad needs to wake up. I placed my hand above his, his hand felt warm under my touch, "Come back to me, please. To Mom, to us," I whispered.

. . . .

"Thank you," I said as Zack stopped right in front of my house. The dark sky was above us, apt to what I feel inside.

Before we left the hospital, my mom came to stay with my Dad. She was scared as I was about what happened earlier.

"No worries," he said. He got out of his car and opened the passenger door.

I smiled weakly. As I got out of his car, his eyes were on me, the sympathy lingered on his hazel orbs and full lashes. I looked away from him, "Don't look at me like that," I murmured.

"Like what?" he asked innocently. He made me look into his eyes, and in an instant my mouth goes dry. His face was inches away from mine, and I can almost feel his breath fanning my face.

"L-like you pity m-me," I stuttered. Sure enough that his presence intimidates me.

"I don't," he said with a smile on his perfect lips. My eyes were on his perfect lips. His tongue ran down his bottom lip. Oh. His arm snake around my waist and pulled me closer to his body.

"What're you doing?" I asked, my voice almost a whisper. My eyes were still on his lips. God knows how attractive he is, "I know what you're—"

Zack silenced me with his lips. For that moment I felt the electricity ran through my body.

Zack.

He consumes me, all my emotions.

As his lips mold with mine, both of his hands were on my hips, holding me in place, whilst my hands were on his chest. He stepped forward, and I stepped back, until I can feel the car behind me, his lips never left mine. My hand find its' way to his hair, to the stubble on his chin. The tiny hairs tickles under my fingers, just like what I thought when I first saw him.

His lips taste like a combination of cigar and mint. But it's heavenly, just like his scent. I can kiss him forever and never stop. Our lips move in sync. I can feel Zack smiled in our kiss, I can't help it, and I smiled too.

"Zack," I said against his lips, but he doesn't stopped, "My neighbors can see us," I tried to persuade him to stop kissing me. As much as I love the taste of his lips, I would not want to be the center of conversation later.

I pushed him lightly, but he didn't budge. His lips continued down to my neck, leaving feather-light kisses. He brings his forehead to rest against mine, our noses touch.

That wasn't so awkward, and not anything like the kisses I've shared with the other boys before. What Zack and I had was slow, tender, and not lustful.

"We should go inside," I said. My hands were resting on his chest. I feel light and heavenly. All of my worries were forgotten for a moment, and that is because of Zack.

"I bet you're tired," he said, then pulled away. We walked towards the front porch, hand in hand. I like this gentle Zack in front of me. He's very nice and far from his normal attitude.

I slid my key and turned the knob to open the door. The house was dim, and it felt warm. Maybe because I'm in here with Zack; his presence made the room to warm up. He embraced me, catching me off guard. My back to his front, I turned around to face him. I feel giddy as his arms locked around me. I rest my head on his shoulder; I inhaled his scent, my now favorite smell.

"I'll call you later," he said.

"If you can," I said grinning. He doesn't have my mobile number. Let's see how good you are, Zack.

"I accept the challenge, m'lady," he said, then plant a soft kiss on my forehead. The first time a guy did this sweet gesture. A million time sweeter than a kiss on a lips.