Friday, 7 September 2012

#RomanticFridayWriters: I Should've Kissed You

Hello everyone! I'm back doing Romantic Friday Writers which means I'm back writing again after a 2-month break. Can someone give me an halleluyah! LOL.
It tell you it feels great to be writing again. It's like chains have been broken and I'm released from captivity. Seriously. :)

Right. Before I get to today's post I've got one quick announcement. 
HIS TREASURE nearly scooped another award. It was a runner-up at the 2012 Swirl Awards in the novella category. You can check out the rest of the winners at the Swirl Awards website. Getting the news has worked wonders in inspiring me again. So a big woohoo!

Now, on to RFW. This week's challenge is to write 600 words of prose or poetry for the theme I Should've Kissed You. 
Since I've been out of the RFW loop for a while I really wanted to participate this week. So I've just written this piece this afternoon. It's going to be part of a Christmas story I'm writing titled His Christmas Wish. It's still very rough and it's longer than 600 words. Sorry. But I hope you enjoy reading it. Feel free to critique it. As always I love your feedback.


Joshua Inemo-Spiff waited outside, ready to confront his future. The late afternoon sun kissed his back with heat rays. On reflex, he rolled his shoulders and massaged his neck.

It was madness standing out here in the heat when he had a sleek cool car parked a few metres away. Or even better an air-conditioned office with piles of work he could get on with accomplishing.

Yet he was out in the sweat-inducing temperature of the Abuja sunshine. The raison d’ĂȘtre? An envelope and it alarming contents.

The oak-timber door swung inwards. Christ stood at the entrance. Clear brown eyes that he didn’t think he could ever forget stared back at him. Her auburn afro hair was loose in twisted curls dangling around her shoulders, with a rose petal pin holding back one side. Her luscious caramel lips curved in an unwelcoming scowl.

“Joshua,” she said in a breathy soft voice that still played a role in his dreams. “What are you doing here?”

Without haste, his gaze travelled across her body from head to toe. She didn’t seem to have changed a bit since he last saw her, dressed in a grey halter-neck top and orange/grey print skirt. She had the same flawless oval-shaped caramel face. The same bountiful graceful curves in the right places and long legs he’d rather have wrapped around his hips.

When her gaze flicked to the brown envelope in his hand, there seemed to be a spark of recognition in her eyes. The way she pulled her bottom lip with her teeth was an indication that she was nervous. As she was responsible for the contents of the envelope and its implications, she should be worried.

“Are you going to let me in, Christy?”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. What’s this about?”
“I think you know.” He lifted his arm bringing the envelope into prominence. “We need to talk.”
She took another swipe of her lip with her teeth and backed away, offering him a reluctant invitation.

Joshua walked into the living room of the apartment and closed the door. It was furnished in Christy style—pastel-coloured curtains and cushions, cream upholstered sofa and chairs, round coffee table with a light pink glass top.

Memories of both of them smashed into his mind. Pictures he couldn’t escape or blank out. Christy in his arms, soft and fragrant; on his bed, warm and welcoming. Joshua coming home one day to a cold and empty house. Devoid of Christy. Joshua boarding up his heart when the pain of her absence became unbearable.

“Why don’t you come home?” he asked.

She folded her arms across her chest, her eyes flashing a baleful glare. “You know why,” she said before sitting in the corner of the sofa.

A surge of desire swelled within him with the vigour of a high-voltage electric power. The rise of Christy’s emotions had always had the power to arouse him. She was his one weakness.
Sometimes he wondered if she knew it.

He sat down beside her. She moved to stand. He put his hand on her thigh, keeping her pinned to the sofa, letting her heat brand him.

She turned to him, the intensity of her glare increasing. Her full breasts rose and fell in a rapid rhythm.  He stared at her caramel lips being worried again by her teeth.

The urge to kiss them rose as he remembered what she felt like when he kissed her. Her softness, her moans. Her passion. Everything else faded away. It was them against the world. Yet all that had changed when she left him.

The old hurt resurfaced. He ignored the persistent urge of his desire and moved his hand from her thigh.

“I don’t know why,” he said instead. “All you said was that you needed a break. That was three months ago.”

In a flash, she stood and walked away from the sofa. From him. Again. Her a-line Ankara skirt swirled around her knees as she turned to face him, her arms back under her chest lifting her breasts into prominence.

“Yes, I did,” she said. “You and I are not working out. There’s no point prolonging it. I thought that was why you came here.”

Regret washed over him. He knew then he should have kissed her.


I hope you enjoyed reading it. Share your thoughts please. Remember to click the link and read the other RFW entries this week. Have a great weekend.