1 So pure
Finally! Kat thought. Two months. Two whole freakin' months to learn this damn piece but she had mastered it. She scratched her head and then started again. This was the tricky part she moved her fingers on the strings smiling to her self, she had got it. Almost there....
"KAAAAT!!" Bianca called from downstairs completely throwing off her groove.
"Ugh! Damn, God!" she groaned in exasperation. "What!?" she barked back testily.
"Patrick's here!"
"He knows the way to my room Bianca!" Kat called back. Sometimes she just didn't understand her sister. Just because her boyfriend was here didn't mean that she had to be 'Little Miss run-down-the-stairs-like-a-ditzy-three- year-old'. She may have given into his charm but she still had her dignity. She refocused her attention on her Fender Strat. She took a deep breath and then started back up. She and Patrick had been an item for a while now. Everyone at school had been completely bowled over by the idea to the shrew going out with the guy that had lit a state trooper on fire, but after awhile it had blown over. Although it had taken a lot of kids a while to get accustomed to her and Patrick making out in the school hall way, but when she thought about it, it had taken her awhile to get accustomed to as well. She had just reached the part that she was so proud of then he burst into the room.
"Two caramel macchiatto's and a blue ber-" he was cut off by her scream of frustration and a stuffed turtle heading for his face. He ducked at the last minute and the innocent stuffed animal hit the wall with an intimidatelingly loud bang. He straightened up and stared at her. Her face showed no remorse, just annoyance.
"OK, um tell me what I did to annoy you so that I know now to do it again." He said glancing back at the turtle that he had bought for her at the fair.
"Nothing." She replied after thinking about it, then she arose and walked over to him and grabbed her coffee and her muffin.
"Really, is that so?"
"Uh huh." She replied heading back over to sit on her bed.
"So how do you explain the airborne stuffed animal aimed at my head that I ducked a few seconds ago." He asked following her over to her bed.
"I thought that you were Bianca." She said.
"Really?"
"Why do you keep making me repeat myself?" she asked. "You heard what I said."
"You would make me repeat myself as well if I told you that I thought you were Scurvy, or Cameron or someone along those lines." He said sitting down on her bed and stretching out his long legs, crossing them at the ankles.
"Well yeah, because there is no way that you could confuse me with Scurvy." She replied straddling his thighs.
"Oh and you could confuse me with Bianca." He asked incredulously.
" No." she replied. "But she has been breaking and entering for the whole day."
"Oh, I see."
"See I was practising this song on my brand new Fender Strat," she paused to beam at him, and he smiled in return. "And there's this part that I've been trying to learn for the longest time and I got it finally but every time I get to that part she bursts in and completely throws off my groove." She explained. He nodded in understanding and she shrugged and took a swing of her coffee. Patrick stared at her for a while as she ate her muffin. Her hair was down but pulled back and she was wearing his clothes again: his flannel shirt over one of her spaghetti strap vest tops, and a pair of his p.j. bottoms that she had stolen during a visit to his house. She was concentrating rather hard considering that it was a muffin, but that was his Kat. It was strange how he thought of her as his, he was positive that she would disagree and to some extent she would be absolutely correct, but every time he saw her he couldn't help but feel a little possessive. He turned his attention to the rest of her room. Almost every inch of on wall was covered in pictures, flyers, comics that she had written, any and everything.
"How long did it take for you to do that?" He asked gesturing towards her wall.
"Oh that um, like a year and a half tops." She asked looking at her wall.
"Wow." He said, and started drinking his coffee. She smiled at him. He was like that. Paying attention to every little detail and appreciating everything. She loved that about him. HE was one of the few people who understood that listening wasn't just waiting for your turn to speak. Everytime she said something she always had a mental picture of him filing it away in his heart and mind. He never dressed up either, she liked that too. He was one of the few people who could pull of a T-shirt and jeans like no other. He hardly brushed his hair but she could tell when he did. It didn't look much different than when he didn't, cause even if he did brush it, it would be messy in no time. Again that went down to his wild personality. He was always so passionate, so full of life and energy, but he never missed anything. He would sit and watch the sun go down and nurse a beer and you almost hated to disturb him, cause he looked so enthralled like a five year old meeting their favourite Power Ranger. He celebrated life and energy and the beauty of small things, like the stars, or when there was a full moon, a garden of flowers everything. It showed in his eyes. His eyes were so expressive that they gave the phrase "The eyes are the windows to the soul" a whole new meaning. His heart and soul were vivid in those mahogany brown pools. If he was hurting he could make you cry by looking at him, if he was angry it frightened you, if he was in love it made your heart melt, and if he was turned on.they would burn with it, almost pulsing with desire and need. He had only looked at her a few times like that but he never looked at her in anger, but she had seen it and it wasn't something you wanted directed to you. Now he looked at her with those beautiful brown eyes and she could feel his devotion and love in them. It was amazing, just like him. "So um, you wanna play that piece for me?" he asked. There was the other thing. Any thing she wanted to do he didn't brush aside like it was nothing, and would fade soon. He pushed her into it, indulged her celebrated her person always. He had gotten a professional leather bound shetchpad with her name engraved in silver in the front, and pencils made of real lead for her. It was really old fashioned and really beautiful, and he had gotten it all because he had seen her drawing once on a spiral notebook and thought she would need it. She smiled, leaned over and grabbed her guitar. She glanced up at him and he stared back at her watching and waiting. She took a deep breath and started up. The song was 'Crazy on you' by Heart. She loved the song so he had bought her the CD, another example of his generosity. Patrick stared at her as she played. He loved to watch her whenever she played the guitar. Loved to watch the mirage of emotions flood her face, loved to see the satisfaction and joy in her eyes whenever she played something right. Times like these he could feel himself falling even more in love with her. He could feel warm adoration flowing through his veins like quicksilver. She was intoxicating, from the way she threw herself into anything she did, to the way she smelled and felt. He was staring at her and he didn't care, he was hooked on her, shamelessly addicted to her aura. He watched as she played the last three chords, and then set down her guitar beaming and bouncing up and down. He grinned at her childish behaviour and clapped, egging her on.
"That was amazing Kat, it really was." He said. And it was, she hadn't made one mistake the whole time.
"Thank you, thank you." She replied setting down her guitar on the ground and drinking the rest of her coffee. He grinned and finished off the rest of his, waiting for her to finish so that he could out both of them on her dresser. She handed him the cup and then watched as he set them both on the dresser. She liked to stare at him. At his focused eyes and strong forehead and jawbone, at his chocolate brown hair and soft mouth. He truly was a sight for sore eyes, and there was nothing more that she wanted right now than too kiss him. So she leaned forward bracing herself by placing her hand on his lower stomach, and captured his mouth with hers. It took him by surprise, but he responded nonetheless by holding the back of her head with his hand, and kissing her back matching her passion with a fury of his own. She held his face in her hands leaning her whole body against his now straddling his hips as he slid his arms around her body. She felt him slide his hands into her hair. She could feel his heart beating wildly against hers and her pulse speeding up a little more. It was crazy the way she loved him. He couldn't get her close enough. Her warmth and softness was addictive and he craved it and more. He wanted to suck her into him and keep her there, she felt so good, so right, so real it was just crazy. It was amazing the thing he could make her feel. The fireworks that he set off in her blood, the hurricane of emotions he arose in her soul. She couldn't explain it, the force he made her love him back with scared her but thrilled her at the same time. How free she felt to love him and make him feel it, to make him feel what he did to her.. it made her feel giddy. The way he slid his hands all over her back and the feel of his fingers on her scalp, the way he worked his tongue gently yet fervently in her mouth set her on fire. He just didn't understand how persuasive his mouth was. He pulled away a little and stared into her eyes, both of them breathless and light-headed. She didn't know how much longer she could deal with the way he was staring at her. She looked away and laid her head on his chest, burying her face in his neck and sighing. Patrick closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to calm down. Trying to slow down his pulse, trying to keep his heart from bursting. He could feel her warm breath against his neck, and her heart still racing against his shoulder. In the calm that settled over him he finally understood why she made him feel the way she did. He craved her because her love was wild and without restraint their relationship was passionate and real. That was why her at time frost bitten words hurt more that usual and her kisses felt like heaven. It was innocent, real, and so pure. Guilt or unintentional lust didn't taint any thing they felt. It was simple and pure, just like her.
Finally! Kat thought. Two months. Two whole freakin' months to learn this damn piece but she had mastered it. She scratched her head and then started again. This was the tricky part she moved her fingers on the strings smiling to her self, she had got it. Almost there....
"KAAAAT!!" Bianca called from downstairs completely throwing off her groove.
"Ugh! Damn, God!" she groaned in exasperation. "What!?" she barked back testily.
"Patrick's here!"
"He knows the way to my room Bianca!" Kat called back. Sometimes she just didn't understand her sister. Just because her boyfriend was here didn't mean that she had to be 'Little Miss run-down-the-stairs-like-a-ditzy-three- year-old'. She may have given into his charm but she still had her dignity. She refocused her attention on her Fender Strat. She took a deep breath and then started back up. She and Patrick had been an item for a while now. Everyone at school had been completely bowled over by the idea to the shrew going out with the guy that had lit a state trooper on fire, but after awhile it had blown over. Although it had taken a lot of kids a while to get accustomed to her and Patrick making out in the school hall way, but when she thought about it, it had taken her awhile to get accustomed to as well. She had just reached the part that she was so proud of then he burst into the room.
"Two caramel macchiatto's and a blue ber-" he was cut off by her scream of frustration and a stuffed turtle heading for his face. He ducked at the last minute and the innocent stuffed animal hit the wall with an intimidatelingly loud bang. He straightened up and stared at her. Her face showed no remorse, just annoyance.
"OK, um tell me what I did to annoy you so that I know now to do it again." He said glancing back at the turtle that he had bought for her at the fair.
"Nothing." She replied after thinking about it, then she arose and walked over to him and grabbed her coffee and her muffin.
"Really, is that so?"
"Uh huh." She replied heading back over to sit on her bed.
"So how do you explain the airborne stuffed animal aimed at my head that I ducked a few seconds ago." He asked following her over to her bed.
"I thought that you were Bianca." She said.
"Really?"
"Why do you keep making me repeat myself?" she asked. "You heard what I said."
"You would make me repeat myself as well if I told you that I thought you were Scurvy, or Cameron or someone along those lines." He said sitting down on her bed and stretching out his long legs, crossing them at the ankles.
"Well yeah, because there is no way that you could confuse me with Scurvy." She replied straddling his thighs.
"Oh and you could confuse me with Bianca." He asked incredulously.
" No." she replied. "But she has been breaking and entering for the whole day."
"Oh, I see."
"See I was practising this song on my brand new Fender Strat," she paused to beam at him, and he smiled in return. "And there's this part that I've been trying to learn for the longest time and I got it finally but every time I get to that part she bursts in and completely throws off my groove." She explained. He nodded in understanding and she shrugged and took a swing of her coffee. Patrick stared at her for a while as she ate her muffin. Her hair was down but pulled back and she was wearing his clothes again: his flannel shirt over one of her spaghetti strap vest tops, and a pair of his p.j. bottoms that she had stolen during a visit to his house. She was concentrating rather hard considering that it was a muffin, but that was his Kat. It was strange how he thought of her as his, he was positive that she would disagree and to some extent she would be absolutely correct, but every time he saw her he couldn't help but feel a little possessive. He turned his attention to the rest of her room. Almost every inch of on wall was covered in pictures, flyers, comics that she had written, any and everything.
"How long did it take for you to do that?" He asked gesturing towards her wall.
"Oh that um, like a year and a half tops." She asked looking at her wall.
"Wow." He said, and started drinking his coffee. She smiled at him. He was like that. Paying attention to every little detail and appreciating everything. She loved that about him. HE was one of the few people who understood that listening wasn't just waiting for your turn to speak. Everytime she said something she always had a mental picture of him filing it away in his heart and mind. He never dressed up either, she liked that too. He was one of the few people who could pull of a T-shirt and jeans like no other. He hardly brushed his hair but she could tell when he did. It didn't look much different than when he didn't, cause even if he did brush it, it would be messy in no time. Again that went down to his wild personality. He was always so passionate, so full of life and energy, but he never missed anything. He would sit and watch the sun go down and nurse a beer and you almost hated to disturb him, cause he looked so enthralled like a five year old meeting their favourite Power Ranger. He celebrated life and energy and the beauty of small things, like the stars, or when there was a full moon, a garden of flowers everything. It showed in his eyes. His eyes were so expressive that they gave the phrase "The eyes are the windows to the soul" a whole new meaning. His heart and soul were vivid in those mahogany brown pools. If he was hurting he could make you cry by looking at him, if he was angry it frightened you, if he was in love it made your heart melt, and if he was turned on.they would burn with it, almost pulsing with desire and need. He had only looked at her a few times like that but he never looked at her in anger, but she had seen it and it wasn't something you wanted directed to you. Now he looked at her with those beautiful brown eyes and she could feel his devotion and love in them. It was amazing, just like him. "So um, you wanna play that piece for me?" he asked. There was the other thing. Any thing she wanted to do he didn't brush aside like it was nothing, and would fade soon. He pushed her into it, indulged her celebrated her person always. He had gotten a professional leather bound shetchpad with her name engraved in silver in the front, and pencils made of real lead for her. It was really old fashioned and really beautiful, and he had gotten it all because he had seen her drawing once on a spiral notebook and thought she would need it. She smiled, leaned over and grabbed her guitar. She glanced up at him and he stared back at her watching and waiting. She took a deep breath and started up. The song was 'Crazy on you' by Heart. She loved the song so he had bought her the CD, another example of his generosity. Patrick stared at her as she played. He loved to watch her whenever she played the guitar. Loved to watch the mirage of emotions flood her face, loved to see the satisfaction and joy in her eyes whenever she played something right. Times like these he could feel himself falling even more in love with her. He could feel warm adoration flowing through his veins like quicksilver. She was intoxicating, from the way she threw herself into anything she did, to the way she smelled and felt. He was staring at her and he didn't care, he was hooked on her, shamelessly addicted to her aura. He watched as she played the last three chords, and then set down her guitar beaming and bouncing up and down. He grinned at her childish behaviour and clapped, egging her on.
"That was amazing Kat, it really was." He said. And it was, she hadn't made one mistake the whole time.
"Thank you, thank you." She replied setting down her guitar on the ground and drinking the rest of her coffee. He grinned and finished off the rest of his, waiting for her to finish so that he could out both of them on her dresser. She handed him the cup and then watched as he set them both on the dresser. She liked to stare at him. At his focused eyes and strong forehead and jawbone, at his chocolate brown hair and soft mouth. He truly was a sight for sore eyes, and there was nothing more that she wanted right now than too kiss him. So she leaned forward bracing herself by placing her hand on his lower stomach, and captured his mouth with hers. It took him by surprise, but he responded nonetheless by holding the back of her head with his hand, and kissing her back matching her passion with a fury of his own. She held his face in her hands leaning her whole body against his now straddling his hips as he slid his arms around her body. She felt him slide his hands into her hair. She could feel his heart beating wildly against hers and her pulse speeding up a little more. It was crazy the way she loved him. He couldn't get her close enough. Her warmth and softness was addictive and he craved it and more. He wanted to suck her into him and keep her there, she felt so good, so right, so real it was just crazy. It was amazing the thing he could make her feel. The fireworks that he set off in her blood, the hurricane of emotions he arose in her soul. She couldn't explain it, the force he made her love him back with scared her but thrilled her at the same time. How free she felt to love him and make him feel it, to make him feel what he did to her.. it made her feel giddy. The way he slid his hands all over her back and the feel of his fingers on her scalp, the way he worked his tongue gently yet fervently in her mouth set her on fire. He just didn't understand how persuasive his mouth was. He pulled away a little and stared into her eyes, both of them breathless and light-headed. She didn't know how much longer she could deal with the way he was staring at her. She looked away and laid her head on his chest, burying her face in his neck and sighing. Patrick closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to calm down. Trying to slow down his pulse, trying to keep his heart from bursting. He could feel her warm breath against his neck, and her heart still racing against his shoulder. In the calm that settled over him he finally understood why she made him feel the way she did. He craved her because her love was wild and without restraint their relationship was passionate and real. That was why her at time frost bitten words hurt more that usual and her kisses felt like heaven. It was innocent, real, and so pure. Guilt or unintentional lust didn't taint any thing they felt. It was simple and pure, just like her.