Show Me Your Kiss Scenes (YA)

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Quentin Nokov

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So, I'd like to put a little more romance into my story, but I find kiss scenes terribly difficult to write and to be honest with all of you--I've never kissed anyone or have been kissed by anyone (childhood kisses from parents don't count).

So, would you fellow Absolute Writers be willing to share some of the kiss scenes that you have written with me? I've found books with kiss scenes, but not every book has the best examples. I'd like to broaden my ideas of what to include--what not to include etc. What sounds flat-out gross and what sounds pleasant.

So would you help me out by posting excerpts from your novels? ;D
 

ellio

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My first reaction is WHATEVER you do, DON'T write in that movie trope of going in for the kiss and knocking heads or something. You know, that whole shebang of the lean in, bashing heads, laughing about it, then going in for another far more amazing kiss than anything before.

I just read a book that described such a thing and I literally had to put it down and come back to it because I was cringing so much.

When I'm writing in kisses I usually just go for "they bent down and kissed me" or "I reached up and kissed them". So boring, I know. Thing is I rarely ever write in kisses as a point of emotional climax so I never linger on them for too long or describe the ins and outs in any great detail.

Thinking about it, kissing is actually kind of gross. Rubbing tongues and saliva all around someone else's mouth, where they've probably shoved copious amounts of food that day and munched down on it until its become a congealed sludge. Some of it is probably still stuck between their teeth. Uh, let's not think about it.

My personal preference on the matter; less is more. (A lot less)
 

mickeyDs4

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From Funny Thing About Memory

I tend to be rather boring with the kiss itself but the background stuff tends to be different for each one.


“Libby Van Owen, you crazy girl,” he sighs. Rawdon leans down, takes my cheeks in his soft hands and presses his lips to mine. My arms betraying me, wrap themselves around his neck and kissed him back.

He’s the first to pull away, wiping my lip gloss off his lips. “I’m really glad I did that. Been wanting to do that for awhile. Really glad. Oh and by the way. Call me Huck.”
 

Zoombie

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In a way of answering, I slowly took his hand in mine and kissed his palm, breathing in his smell. Mana, crackling energy, and artificial scents. I shivered. He grinned and then kissed me, gently, on the lips, adding as he drew back, his hand sliding from my mouth to my chest. “We don’t have to do this here or now, even. You’re only, what…?“


“Five days old.”


He jerked back like I was white hot.


“Five DAYS!?”


I blushed. “When you put it like that, it sounds like you’re making out with an infant…”

Don't worry, folks!

She's a robot.

A magical robot.
 

thebloodfiend

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Ah, kissing scenes. My favorite things to write besides almost kiss scenes. Seriously, can I just write a novel filled with nothing but kissing? No plot, no action—hell, only one fade to black sex scene.
Her hand is still on my face. I take it in mine. We’ve never had communication problems. I should inquire further, but I’m selfish. I’ve wanted her ever since the moment we met and I’ve waited too long, watching her date other guys. I can’t waste my chance. I lean in.

Sam closes her eyes. I kiss her.

She tastes like vodka and mint and rum. This is what a kiss is supposed to feel like. We’ve had so many almost kisses, I’ve almost memorized the way I want it to go.

“You kiss like a girl,” she says.

“So do you.”

We lie down on the bed. I’m trying to unzip her dress but she’s wavering between kissing me and pulling back. I want to go further. We’re minutes away from sex and I need to ask—
 

Quentin Nokov

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My first reaction is WHATEVER you do, DON'T write in that movie trope of going in for the kiss and knocking heads or something. You know, that whole shebang of the lean in, bashing heads, laughing about it, then going in for another far more amazing kiss than anything before.

You mean the characters literally bonk heads?

Thinking about it, kissing is actually kind of gross. Rubbing tongues and saliva all around someone else's mouth, where they've probably shoved copious amounts of food that day and munched down on it until its become a congealed sludge. Some of it is probably still stuck between their teeth. Uh, let's not think about it.

My personal preference on the matter; less is more. (A lot less)

It is gross. Most of the books I read that had kiss scenes had too much groping or french kissing. Ew. I totally agree with the less is more.
 

KateSmash

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Here comes my most dreaded answer - It depends.

A kiss that works for one set of characters or plot won't work for another. I think, like a lot of other things in writing, I like they kissy bits to be important and make sense. Nothing worse than kissing (or sex, or romance, or action, or gore) that is shoehorned in where it doesn't belong.

But that's not what you asked for soooooo ...

A kissy bit for my lovelies. (A little long, because I wanted to include context, ok?)

“Can we please talk about this?”

“What is there to talk about?” His shoulders slumped. “You were pretty clear.”

Jessia furrowed her brow. “How was I clear?”

Sandor's green eyes shone with fury. His face contorted with failed words until he pulled his hands from her foot and flicked them toward the right side of his face and the scar Jessia honestly forgot was there.

She threw her head back and laughed. It was the wrong move, as Sandor stood so suddenly her foot dropped to the rocky ground. Jessia yelped. And it was a good thing she did because it kept Sandor from storming off more than a few feet away.

Talking to his back wasn’t any easier than talking to his face. Especially as she noticed all the ways he continued to fill out now that he was eating properly. She breathed deep to stifle a giggle. “I’m sorry, Sandor.”

“You keep saying that. I wonder if you'll ever mean it.”

Jessia snorted. How someone so brilliant could be so dumb? “It wasn’t your face, you idiot.” A bubble of laughter escaped. “I like your face. I like your face a lot.”

He turned over his shoulder, clearly thinking twice so he offered her the unscarred side. His one visible eye narrowed, but he turned slowly toward her. “Then what was it?”

Ah, that was no fun. Once more her hands the most interesting thing in the galaxy. When she was quiet a heartbeat too long, Sandor growled and started up the beach.

Panic squeezed at her chest. “Oh for the love of - I like you, Sandor.”

He stopped and that was enough for the rest of it to come tumbling out.

“Fuck it, I love you. And I’ve never loved anyone before, and it's scary, damn it. I got scared and I ran away because I didn’t want to love you.”

If only she could disappear into the sand. It had never made sense in her head, but it probably made less sense coming out of her mouth.

When Sandor turned around he wore a smile as dazzling as his eyes. His broad shoulders bobbed with quiet mirth that hit Jessia like a boot to the gut. She’d poured her bleeding heart out to him and the son of a bitch was laughing at her.

Jessia shut her eyes against the sting of tears and buried her face in her hands. “Oh, you can go and fuck all the way off now.”

A hand pulled hers away from her face. Warmth like sunlight radiated from his smile. It was all she managed to see before he kissed her. She felt weightless as he scooped her up from the ground to pull her into his lap, always mindful of her bandaged ankle.

And then they do other things you didn't ask to see. :p
 

Rhoda Nightingale

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What kind of kiss is it? A first kiss between characters awkwardly dating for the first time? A first kiss between characters who've been hot for each other for 300 pages and haven't done anything about it so far? A last kiss between lovers when one of them is dying/going off to war/getting sucked into a parallel dimension? A reunion kiss after many trials and tribulations of the lovers being kept apart for some reason? A casual peck?

There's a different set of emotions associated with each. So I'm echoing KateSmash that "it depends."
 

Myrealana

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The MMC, Loch, has just been gut-shot by the bad guy
I surfaced and felt his cheeks wet with tears -- not his. I wiped at my eyes with one hand. "I'm sorry, Loch."
"It's OK," he said, less strained, but weak. "It's not your fault."
"It is," I said. “But I’m going to make it right.” I leaned in and kissed him gently. His lips were soft, but cold. There was no time to waste. I stood to face Granger.
"Loch first," I said.
"What?"
I pointed at the dais. "We open the portal. I heal Loch, then Edmund and then we shut it down and you dismantle the whole thing. I take the stone tablet and put it somewhere it will never be found. That's the deal. Take it or kill me now, because I'm not going down without a fight."
 

Quentin Nokov

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What kind of kiss is it? A first kiss between characters awkwardly dating for the first time? A first kiss between characters who've been hot for each other for 300 pages and haven't done anything about it so far? A last kiss between lovers when one of them is dying/going off to war/getting sucked into a parallel dimension? A reunion kiss after many trials and tribulations of the lovers being kept apart for some reason? A casual peck?

There's a different set of emotions associated with each. So I'm echoing KateSmash that "it depends."


I have quite a few characters so it depends on the situation for me, too that's why I didn't specify any types of kisses. All kinds of kisses are fine with me, modest or fervent just so I have an idea. I'm not good with kiss scenes at all, so I just want to see more examples of all and any type.

Thanks Mickey, Zoombie, TheBloodFiend, KateSmash and Myrealana!
 

thothguard51

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I write fantasy fiction, and it seems there is not a whole lot of kissing going on in fantasy. But I do add kiss scenes because I use them to show emotions and what is going on in one or the others head.

This may be more than you asked for, but what the hell...

From chapter 7, A Game of Pawns, the MC, has lost a very dear friend while saving his future love interest. This is their first shared kiss during a time of grief and the kiss is no where near as important as to what happens before and after the kiss. But it is a start, even if the MC is confused about his feelings.

“You must have loved her very much.” Ryzza said, and gripped his hands, perhaps to give comfort back.
“Sar-ran was special, but I am not sure...”

He thought about what Sar-ran meant, not just to him, but to her uncle, Iron Chest. There was also the older brother she admired more than any man alive. How could he ever again face those who loved Sar-ran?

Nathin lost control of his emotions then and crumbled to his knees. He could not control his tears and his chest throbbed so he thought his heart would explode from the pain he felt. Ryzza knelt with him and put her hands on either side of his face. Her clear green eyes stared at him. He observed the pinkish hue of her cheeks and the perfect shape of her lips.

Without thought, he brought his lips to meet hers. Ryzza closed her eyes and responded equally. He kissed her again and again, each kiss more intense than the last. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. His heart raced wildly as he felt her press against him. Time was lost until he heard voices in the corridor and quickly retreated from Ryzza’s embrace.

“I’m sorry,” he said and helped Ryzza to her feet. “It was not fair of me to approach you like this while we both suffer.”

“Nathin, there is nothing to be sorry for when two people are of mutual agreement.”

“No, I took advantage of your kindness in a moment of my own weakness. This will not happen again and we will not discuss this any further. What has passed is past.”

Later that night, the MC reflects on the Kiss.

Sleep still troubled him and Nathin went to stand on the balcony for fresh air. He wrapped a heavy sleeping fur around him.
He glanced to the adjoining balcony just as the door curtains closed. He thought about the embrace he shared with Ryzza. He could still feel her pressed against him, their hearts racing wildly, his lips tasting her sweetness.

He had apologized for his actions, but deep down, he was not sorry. He had wanted to lose himself in her embrace, to escape his pain. Perhaps
Ryzza was right; there was nothing to be sorry for if there were mutual agreements.


Of course, as time proceeds the kisses get more intense and he has to control his emotions as he makes her a promise...

“Well, I promise not to take advantage of this moment,” he pledged, and then kissed the back of her right hand before slipping onto his platform.
“I thank you kind sir, but that is not the promise I want.”

Her eyes moved slowly down his body, bringing a blush to his cheeks she found exciting.

“This too I promise, as soon as I am fully recovered I will enthrall you the likes of which you've never experienced.”

“Bold words, Apprentice, but can you back them up?”

Nathin pulled her to him and they kissed deeply, one of true desire. His left hand moved lightly over her until cupping her right breast. She could feel the heat of his touch through her gown and a soft moan escaped her lips.

She had fought off the attempts of other young men before, even though she had encouraged them somewhat with her teasing. She had promised herself long ago she’d remain pure until her bonding day. But now she was not sure. She wanted to know what her mother and aunts knew, and even the pleasure slaves.

She hated these slaves, as most free women did, but not for the same reasons. She hated them for how they walked with grace and their every action was one of feminine sexuality. Mostly, she hated them because they could bring a man to shame with nothing more than a glance.

“You are trembling,” Nathin whispered, withdrawing his hand from her breast.

When she did not reply, he continued. “You've not been with a man before?”

“None who have made me tremble.” She now blushed.

“Then I promise to wait until you are sure of the time.”

Ryzza was unsure how to reply. She suspected he was experienced. What man his age was not?

“Thank you,” she said and then shifted so she lay on his right side.

So as you can see, the kisses are not all that titillating, as its all about what is happening before, during and after that make the kissing mean something other than just to have someone kiss someone. Or so I feel...
 
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Parametric

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Cas and Phelan from FROSTBITE:

Phelan was looking at me in a way I’d never seen before, as though he could burn a hole in me with his eyes. His fists were clenched, the tautness of his muscles showing through the worn cloth of his shirt.

He shoved me back. Hard. A broken pipe drenched me in an icy deluge and I gasped, soaked, freezing. Then he slammed me up against the wall and kissed me.

It was so intense that I nearly came apart. I was freezing and burning at the same time, the water so cold and his mouth so hot. I was on fire, clutching at his wet shirt, his hands gripping my waist. The icy trickles got down under my shirt and I gasped, shivered, pressing closer to Phelan. My arms came up around his neck, my fingers twining in his hair. I was dazed, overwhelmed. My heart was hammering fit to burst. He kissed me harder, one hand fisting in the tangles of my hair. His mouth was fierce on mine, his fingers biting into my hip. I made a strangled sound, feeling like I was pulling apart. One more touch and I would die: I would never survive this.

Then he drew his knife.

The unmistakeable sound brought me to shocked awareness in an instant. The blade slid alongside my throat, angling just under my jaw. I froze, my hands clenching, helpless.

“I should kill you,” Phelan said in my ear, deadly low. He was still pinning me, startlingly hot, the wet shirt clinging to him. “I should cut your throat here and now.”
 

Zoombie

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Ummm hello. I want to read more. PM me if you ever need a beta :)

As a warning, FROSTBITE is so awesome that it will burn your eyesockets from your head and scour your soul so that you will be thinking of it for YEARS afterwards.

BY THE WAY

PARA

WHERE'S THE SEQUEL AHEM COUGH COUGH WINK WINK NUDGE NUDGE WINK COUGH
 

Becca C.

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This is the first kiss between the MC and LI in my WIP, A BRAVER THING. Backstory leading up to this: Malcolm is first in line to the throne of England. Tristan is very middle-class. This is very forbidden.

I get dressed in Malcolm’s clothes -- Malcolm’s clothes! -- and the clean softness of them envelops me. I can’t help but wrap my arms around myself and squeeze. The clothes smell like him. If I close my eyes I can pretend it’s him hugging me. Oh, God, I want him to hug me. Being near him without breaching that physical barrier gets so hard. Wanting to touch, wanting it so bad but being unable to...

“Tristan?”

His voice is close. Not in his room, not in here, but in between.

“Yes?”

I twist the doorknob. The bathroom light falls across Malcolm’s face. He leans against the doorjamb, looking at me with doleful eyes. I open my mouth to ask what’s up, but nothing comes out.

His eyes flicker towards the floor, then back to my face, then his eyelashes flutter shut.

All of a sudden I know what he wants. I think I know. I touch him, slide my hands from his shoulders to his neck. Recklessly, I push onto my toes and press my lips against his.

There’s a single, suspended second of nothingness. Just our mouths colliding, just Malcolm’s impossible stillness. He’s not kissing me back, oh my God, I’ve done the wrong thing.

He staggers forward, wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. I open my mouth, more out of shock than anything else, and he falls forward into the space it opens up.
 

jsselch

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Frostbite sounds seriously awesome, I'd like to read more too!

Here's a kiss scene from one of my short stories:

She pauses for a few long seconds, and they appear to pass with the inaudible ticking of the Jazz beat that breathes inside this bar. He studies her, allows his eyes to linger on her skin. Another second and she might burst. She contemplates pouring the glass of wine in his face, hesitates. She feels the area he’s been feasting his eyes on slowly darken to the shade of her beverage. Finally, she clears her throat and trails a finger down her chest in an attempt to cool it.

“Perhaps you’d like to introduce yourself,” she says. “I’m- ”

“Shh,” he takes her hand in his and kisses it, softly. “I know who you are, and you don’t need to know who I am either.”

He leans into her and she, despite herself, uncrosses her legs. A smile spreads on his lips as he pushes closer. She can still smell the whisky on his breath until finally, she tastes it. Expensive indeed, she thinks in a haze, until her mind abandons her entirely and his lips take over. They tingle, burn, and she barely notices herself inching towards him, and nearly slipping off the barstool. His hand takes a familiar stroll down the back of her dress, finds the small of her back and pushes her against him hard. She breaks the kiss and stifles her gasp with a large sip of wine.
 

missesdash

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Some of these are SO LONG. I cant even think up enough "and then's" unless I transition into "then we had sex."

Also I will never post a kiss scene because I'm shy about these things but I like the thread!
 

cmtruesd

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I tend to get into all the little details of a kiss :)

"Thank you," Lia said, staring up at him as she felt a surge of adoration in her chest. Tristan's eyes lowered, his long lashes touching the tops of his cheekbones. The corner of his mouth quirked up into a ghost of a smile, as if her appreciation pleased him. "Will you get in trouble? For not telling them?"

Tristan shrugged. "Probably."

"Doesn't that bother you?"

"Getting in trouble? Only when whatever I did isn't worth the punishment."

Lia tried to imagine anyone punishing Tristan and failed. He seemed like the type who would turn the punishment into something pleasurable simply to make them regret punishing him in the first place.

"Do you think it’ll be worth it this time?"

Tristan met Lia's eyes, "You're worth it," He said simply.

He sounded surprised to hear himself say it, but Lia guessed that nothing could compare to the shocked expression she wore. Lia felt suddenly aware of just how close they were sitting. With Tristan's hand propping himself up beside her pillows, he basically shared the bed with her. The thought brought a hot flush to Lia's cheeks, but she couldn't bring herself to look away from him. Her eyes swept over the soft waves that fell across his forehead, curling around his ears, to his hazel eyes, and lingered on his lips. Lia felt feverish with the immense restraint it took to keep her hands in her lap, so badly she wanted to reach out and run her knuckles against the shadowy stubble across his jaw. She'd never felt this before— this urge to touch another person so strong she felt as if she was burning from the inside out.

Tristan must have felt the same, for his eyes never left hers as he leaned closer. Slowly, he reached out to run the tips of his fingers lightly from the tender skin on the inside of Lia's wrist to the crook of her elbow and back down again. Lia shivered, and felt herself lean into him, raising her face to his in invitation. Tristan watched her through eyes hooded with desire as he brought his hand up again, further this time. Pushing the weight of her hair off of her shoulder, his hand lifted to cup the side of her neck. His thumb stroked her burning cheek as he leaned, slowly closing the distance between them before he brushed his lips across hers.

Tristan kissed her gently at first, then with greater pressure. Lia wrapped her arms around his neck, ignoring the pain in her ribs as she wound her fingers through the silky waves that curled against his neck. With a ragged gasp, his hand went around the small of her back, pulling her tightly against him. Lia could feel his heart racing, flush against her own, as he reached up with his other hand to pull the small tie at the neck of her nightgown. She gave a small cry of surprise against his mouth as he brushed his hand across her collarbone, running his finger softly along the small indentation above it.

Then, without warning, a sharp rap sounded on the door, and Lia broke away, startled. Tristan kept her in the crook of his arm, his chest rising and falling rapidly against her own as his eyes burned into hers. Slowly, he unwound his arm from her waist, and sat straight beside her.
 
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Bing Z

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Quentin, Seventeen has a quiz you need to "play." It's called Am I a Good Kisser. You can then build your kiss scene from those questions. If you need more, they have another article Five Hot New Kisses, if your char is a hell of a kisser.
 

AmyJay

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I liked reading everyone's scenes! Here's one of mine - one of the few times my MC is actually decisive about something:

Avery and Trick looked at each other. It was far from a perfect moment, but Avery already had Trick on his lap and the idea out in the open; besides, he'd passed up too many opportunities as it was. Avery put his hand on the back of Trick's head and pulled him down to meet his lips. For the second time in his life, Avery was kissing Trick. Trick's lips were soft, and they parted readily against Avery's, and his mouth was hotter and wetter than Avery had remembered, and Avery didn't care that there were three other people watching them.
 

SBibb

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I have a bit of a hard time writing kiss scenes because my main character is very-- not romantically driven. So here's the almost-but-not-quite kiss scene between the two main characters (second book), just for the fun of it.

...(Jenna speaking) “But it’s like you said. We’re in this together.”

Lance squeezed my hand. “I know. Together.” He pulled me to him, lightly holding my hands in his. Light framed the edge of his cheek and jaw, casting a soft shadow over the side of his face. He leaned closer, his forehead against mine, and my heart flipped.

If I’d been watching Jack’s movies right, this was the part where the heroes kissed.

“Jenna, can I--”

He paused, right as I was trying to decide if I should say yes or no to the prospect of actually being kissed.

“Do you hear that?”

“I-- hear what?” Was something wrong? Were we in danger? Had beasties arrived or bounty hunters followed us?

Lance pointed to a tree through the garden. “There!” He pulled me towards it, and then I heard upset sobbing and a high-pitched mew coming from within a tree.

Community, he dragged me out of a happy moment for a mangy cat.

There ya have it. :)
 

Niiicola

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I posted a snippet of this in the "line of the day" thread a while back. This book is getting put away indefinitely, so I figure I'll give it one last hurrah.

He yanks me over the edge, and I close my eyes and wait for gravity to take me. But my feet hit solid metal, a ledge under the tracks. A wall of air slams us as the train hurtles past, inches from the top of my head. There's nothing but the roar and the rhythm of the churning wheels.

Jared pushes me against a beam and crushes his mouth against mine. I arch into him, the heat of the train melding with the heat from his body. His tongue slips into my mouth as the metal wheels grind the track overhead and the cars rush past one by one. Fear has made every sense in my body sharp, icy clear. I'm flying on adrenaline, and the blood tumbles through my veins. I feel like I've been ripped to shreds and put back together again.

With a low whistle and a puff of black smoke, the train thunders past and is gone.

"Finally," he whispers against my mouth.

The wrongness of it stabs me, but the urge to kiss him again is stronger. It's lightness and euphoria, speed and aching pain. I never want it to stop. But it has to stop.
 

trolly dei

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The one and only overtly romantic scene I've written. I might as well get over my shyness about these things.

I wanted to make eye contact and hold it and hold my breath until my lungs smothered whatever else was happening inside my ribcage. I imagined my heart as something smooth I could turn over in my hands, free of messy attachments. Something I could keep to myself.

It didn’t work.

R: Please be blunt right now.

I had nothing to say and no way to say it. My mind forgot all the words I’d ever known. I wanted to be blunt, though. I wanted to say what I meant.

So I kissed him.

*

He kissed me back.

*

We pulled away and it took me a while to notice everything else- the smell of smoke, the half of me that was warmed by the fire and the half that wasn’t, the soft call of an owl. Everything that wasn’t him. We sat together in comfortable silence, the warm pressure of his leg next to mine. He reached for my hand and I let him hold it until we fell asleep.
 

sarahdalton

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Kiss scenes can be hard to write. I've just written one into my current WIP and had to leave myself a note - "write this again, but better!" lol.

Here's one from The Blemished:

He leaned forward and kissed me – soft and sweet. It was a pleasant, warm and beautiful kiss and I felt myself relax into it. My heart raced as he pulled away from me, taking his warmth away. Then he was gone and I stood alone in the darkness

Buuut, she doesn't really love him.

She loves this guy:

He lifted his head from his hands and looked at me. Even in the dimmest of lights his eyes seemed to shine. They took me, wholeheartedly, all of me. They took every bit of my attention, swallowing me up. Even if at that moment we were hit by a meteor I wouldn't have noticed. Everything was Daniel. Daniel was everything.

“Um….” I faltered. “I don’t know, I erm…”

He leaned towards me, his face just inches from mine. Tingles ran down my spine and I heard the rushing noise of blood in my ears. I held my breath. He tilted his head, angled so that our mouths would fit together. Our lips touched just for a moment and then I heard Angela stir. I pulled back, my breath rasping out of my body. Panicked, I jumped to my feet. Daniel stared up at me, wounded.
 

Happy Thanksgiving

Autumn image for Thanksgiving