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Want to try to make one or see what other people came up with?! Every story will participate in The Doll Palace ratings. Good stories will be awarded with Dollpoints.
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All created stories have to follow . We do not allow any sexually related material. The Doll Palace will be enforcing this rule and completely blocking access to the accounts that disregard our policy and create sexually oriented stories.
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Hi, my name is Kam
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 | The Best Quality Bullshxt [00] |
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 4.71 with 14 vote(s)
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| Created: 2009-01-11 07:18:15 |
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“Just so you know, this feelings taking control of me.”
She stared out the window with childish delight. I couldn't help but marvel at the way her lips turned up at the very sight of the midnight encrusted rises and falls of the land as we sped past. One cheek had been pressed to the chilled glass as she peered out, her eyes dancing across the land as if she were afraid of missing a single detail. There was something almost peaceful about her, about the girl I thought I knew. Clearly, there was a side of her, a side that could drink in the mere beauty of a midnight glazed landscape, a side so soft I feared was fragile.
There was a part of me, hidden behind a stone wall, that wanted to reach across the spaceous backseat, to simply feel her skin as it bathed in moonlight. She was no longer the bouncy, bubbly girl I'd thought I'd known so well, the girl who could down a straight bottle of vodka in under ten minutes, flat. She was no longer the girl everyone looked up to, despite the fact she'd been suspended more times than I could count on both hands. She was something more, something that was beyond even me. Something I knew I couldn't have, I couldn't keep, something I couldn't understand.
Try as I might, I couldn't help but fight the urge to reach out, to touch her skin. I wanted so badly to feel her, to have her lips yeilding beneath mine, to answer her every desire, to kiss away every thought, every fear. I wanted to hold her, to feel her melt beneath my fingers. I wanted to feel her body against me, to see every little detail up close, to hear her whisper the words I'd become so accustomed to hearing, but not feeling. I tore my gaze away from her, trying to understand exactly why I was feeling what I was. She was a friend, nothing more, and certainly nothing less.
“Do you think the man on the moon ever smiles?” I turned slightly at the sound of her voice. A soft curiousity that stole into the night like a billow of smoke. She tore her gaze from the window, meeting mine squarely. “I think he looks sad. As if he doesn't know how to smile anymore. What do you think?”
I stared out the car window, up at the silver orb that hung, suspended on a backdrop of silver sequins. I tried to see it as she might, the face of a man full of such hopelessness that he'd forgotten to smile. Try as I might, I could barely make out the indentations that she'd seen so clearly. Frowning, I shrugged my shoulders and glanced back at her, to find her gaze resting solely on me. Open, warm and unwavering. More feeling than I'd ever seen her publically display. “I dunno. I guess. Maybe he just needs someone to teach him again.”
“I think you could do it. You're really good at making people smile, you know.” She smiled at me. A soft, unwavering smile. Soft and warm, tiny and barely there, but all the more perfect. My heart fluttered for a moment as I returned to smile, doing my best to hide my feelings from her eyes. Eyes that, I felt, had seen and felt too much for her slender fifteen years of living. “Did you know that some fortune tellers believe we're made of stardust? That the earth was created by a dozen stars exploding and fusing together? They could be right, I suppose.”
“Or maybe they were stoned.” I laughed softly, trying to imagine a bunch of multi-coloured hippies dancing around a bonfire shouting to the heavens. Frowning finally, I glanced at me knees and then upward, turning my head to watch her as she drew her slender legs beneath her, chewing animatedly at her lower lip. The fleshy fold was pulled between her teeth for glorious moments as my stomach flopped and then she released it, wrinkling her nose as a bead of blood boiled against her tongue. “So, how much have you had to drink tonight, Little Miss Pensive?”
“I'm surprised you even know what that word means. I'll have you know that I haven't touched a drop of any alcoholic beverage tonight, but I did down a couple of Vs before we came to get you.” She poked out her tongue before her fingers flashed to the port of her belt, releasing the thick material and metal clasp from its prison. She flung the door open seconds after the vechile had stopped, propelling herself through the door seconds after. “Come on! You can't just sit there, not all night, it'll get cold!”
“Then you should come sit with me.” I countered, enjoying the teasing note her voice had taken on. She glared at me through the window, a mock pout that followed soon after made me squirm uncomfortably. I was the first to give in, reaching to unclip my belt and recover my bag from its place by my feet. She was grinning cheerily, standing in the doorway, arms crossed playfully. “Move your scrawny butt, will you? I'm only out because of you.”
“Gosh, if I'd have know you were this grumpy of an evening, I'd never have given you permission to stay. I hope you do realise that.” She turned on her heel, hurrying inside and snapping on a light, calling something after her mother as the older woman vanished into her bedroom. She turned to me, smiling once more. “So, what first? We watch Final Destination and eat popcorn until we explode, or...?”
“First, tell me where I can dump my stuff, will you?” I replied. She took my bags, followed in close pursuit by my hand, before she began pulling me through the lengthy hallway and into the furthest room. She didn't snap on a light, instead she merely tossed my bag somewhere in the thickened gloom before backing me out and pulling me back the way we'd came. Like some eager child, pressing me onward to see some new toy. “Geeze, relax, will you?”
“Relaxing. That's for adults.”
xxxx
I couldn't help but think of her as perfect, even with all her imperfections. She was one of those girls, I suppose, that had me clinging to every word, waiting on every breath, hoping that, perhaps, she might take some interest in me. Even the interest I'd started taking in her. Before, I'd have called her a crush, one of my many crushes. She had always been cute, in that perfectly imperfect way. She was the trouble kid, despite the display she put on, and I wanted to be that one to save her. At least, those were my earlier intentions.
I was no longer sure as to what I was feeling, but it was much more than I'd ever really felt. Even as the light from the television played across her face, I knew I felt more than I cared to admit. She smelt of freshly washed fruit, the scent clinging to the mahogany plaits that swung either side of her head, held together by mutli-coloured bands. The rest of her smelt of vanilla, a smell I knew I could get used to. I could still feel her small hand in mine, so soft and smooth, and so very warm. Like she had said, we were to be stuffing ourselves to explosion point on popcorn and scaring ourselves.
She sighed as the credits began to roll, turning herself just so, so her body was turned in my direction. Finally, she swivelled her head around, reaching for a piece of popcorn that she tossed lazily across the couch at me. I poked my tongue out, trailing my gaze along her jawline, trying to imagine the feel of it against my lips. Groaning, I stretched slightly, delibrately kicking her as I did. She laughed. A soft melody that stroked my ears like the gentle chime of an ancient Grandfather clock.
“Kammy, do you ever wonder what it'd be like to, you know, fall in love? I mean, well, I don't believe in love so much, but if it were real... what would it feel like? Would it be all butterflies and consistant thoughts, like all those books and movies make it out to be? And does it always have to be some girl falling for a guy? If so, I guess we're both royally screwed.” I arched a brow and shrugged. “Sorry. I was just, kind of, rambling. I don't know. Forget it.”
“No, wait.” I stared at her. Perhaps I did know what I was feeling, if I dared jinx myself. Perhaps I knew what it was like to fall in love. I smiled, wondering just how long she had starved herself to be able to stuff herself full on popcorn, and not worry so much. Yeah. I knew it, knew she was afraid of gaining weight, afraid of not being the brunette barbie doll everyone percieved her as – just not quite as perfect, or plastic. “You have a point, I guess. I mean, if the movies and books are right, then so are you. We'd be screwed. Maybe love doesn't exist, then.”
I could tell by the look on her face it wasn't the answer she'd been hoping for. She wanted me to tell her that she was wrong, that love really existed, and everything she secretly craved could be, one day, fullfilled. I smiled softly at her, wishing I could swallow the words I'd so readily offered. Sitting up, I eased the bowl of popcorn to the floor and crawled the distance between us, pressing my body to hers. She turned her head, just enough, so that our lips met somewhere in the middle. I shivered violently and pressed myself a little closer.
Her lips were softer than I'd ever imagined lips could be. They moved perfectly against my own, as if they'd been made to kiss me. I felt her hands lift, brushing against the hem of my shirt before travelling to rest on my waist, where they remain. Hands so warm that I had trouble concerntrating on little else as my feelings began to overwhelm me. She parted her lips all too willingly, coaxing my tongue into the warm, moist cavern of her mouth. I moaned softly, the sound lost against her open-mouthed kisses as I dipped closer.
She tilted her head slightly, allowing me better access as my tongue dived across the opening, stroking hers almost playfully as I realised my emotions had begun to take on a life of their own. One of my hands stole from its place on the arm behind her back to trail down her side, brushing across jutting ribs to rest on a protruding hip bone. My skin crawled at the feeling of the petite, fragile girl, but I couldn't drag myself away. My eyes opened slightly, enough to peer at her through my lashes. At her closed eyes and the faint rings I hadn't noticed before. Tortured by sleepless nights.
I broke off the kiss, turning my lips loose on the skin beneath her ear. She stiffened slightly, arching into me as I began sucking on the tender flesh. My teeth grazed her skin as I moved my attention further down, feeling her pulse hitching against my lips as my tongue danced across her heating flesh. She mumbled my name, her breathing sharpening as I rolled my tongue over her throat, sucking and licking and biting a trail to her collarbones. I winced slightly as I felt them, sharp and far too present against my lips, but it didn't deter me from lavishing her with attention.
Her hand came then. Moving up my body, stroking my side briefly before fixing on my chin and easing my head up, pulling me back to her waiting, swollen lips. I met them softly, drawing back as the moan escaped her lips. I paraded on her soft kisses, kisses that forced her to gasp as she struggled to draw breath. I knew what she wanted, what she needed, and as much as I wished I could give it to her forever, I knew I couldn't. I was about as emotionally stable as she was physically well.
And I, Kameron Drace, was falling for Analouise Harte. |
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