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Rated: E · Short Story · Romance/Love · #1199264
It was her lips...
The Kiss
by: Child of Loki

He had never understood what J.M. Barrie was talking about in Peter Pan with Mrs. Darling's Kiss. That is, he had never understood until now. It was her lips. There had been something about her lips that plagued his mind since the moment he met her. They were gorgeous full lips, but not plump, and just barely on the pouting side. They were also perfectly formed; their outline exquisitely defined as they peaked at her palette and curved gently above her chin.  They were beautiful lips, but that wasn't why they had percolated into his thoughts for the last three weeks.  He had finally figured it out tonight, on their fifth date.

She had the Kiss, like Mrs. Darling in Peter Pan. It was there, in the left-hand corner of her mouth, almost in the dimple of her cheek where her lips met. If he tried to explain it to his friends, they would tell him he was imagining things, or at least over exaggerating. They wouldn't tell him that, if they could see her lips for themselves. If they could see for themselves, they would notice that there was more to her lips than mere beauty, that there was a kind of spark near the corner that moved playfully about when she smiled. They would feel the Kiss calling them, as if it was almost tangible, something that they could possess. He felt it calling him now. He wanted that Kiss.

The young woman smiled at him, the Kiss teasing him from across the table. He had to have that Kiss. He decided that charm could win it for him, and got up to ask her to dance. She took his hand and stood, her turquoise dress falling to rest at ankle-length. The dress was shear, revealing a tasteful amount of her curves. It was both shy and playful, like the Kiss.

As he gracefully whirled her about the dance floor, he admired her beauty and warmth. Her light brown hair bobbed about her shoulders as he spinned her. Her blue-green eyes flashed playfully to his as they moved together. Her slender form danced gracefully about him. She was exactly how he had always pictured a grown-up Wendy Darling would be, one that inherited her mother's Kiss. He thought it was strange that he would meet a woman that seemed to emerge straight from his favorite fairytale.

END
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