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Joanne Collins I’ll never forget the first time I saw Clark’s face. I mean, it’s pretty damn memorable when you’re looking up at someone who’s just given you mouth to mouth. I think I gave my life to him in that moment, and he took it, though I don’t think he knew it then. My first memory of looking at him is into those dark, dark eyes. I thought I could see the world in Clark’s eyes, or maybe it was just my world. I don’t know. I just know that my dark and endless skies weren’t so dark and endless any more. Not from that first moment. Oh, I tried to push it away. He was too young. Too sheltered. His father was too overprotective. He was too male. Every excuse I could think of to push him away. Only he wouldn’t let me. Or maybe I wouldn’t let myself. I don’t know any more. I just couldn’t push Clark away once he owned my life. I did wait. Let him finish high school. Get past his feelings for Lana and Chloe. But I stayed as his friend. Experienced seething jealousy every time it seemed likely that he might choose to be with one of them. I experienced that a lot. But Lana married Pete and Chloe was – still is, I guess – in pursuit of a story bigger than her personal life. Clark isn’t the type to stay on the sidelines of that. Our first kiss – well, unless you count the mouth to mouth, which I don’t – was surprisingly simple. I had planned it, dreamed of it, thought about it so many times over the years. Sometimes I’d be the one leaning into it, sometimes he would, there would be a declaration before it, I think I went through all kinds of scenarios – except anything remotely like the actual kiss. We were moving his furniture. Somehow, we both tripped over the couch, landing on it, he was under me. And before I knew what was happening, he leaned up and pressed his lips to mine. So simple. So unexpected. So much more than just a kiss. More motion, more feeling than anything I’d felt in years. It was more than anything that had happened before. I gave my life to Clark for a second time then. He had me forever. That kiss meant more than any of the sex I’d had in the last – well, ten years. Yeah, I know that sounds ridiculously sappy, but it’s true. Clark’s kiss was like holding something I never wanted to let go. I didn’t know yet if he was mine, though. That came later. The first time I had sex with Clark, we planned it. It wasn’t perfect, first times rarely are, but it was closer than any I’d known. Lying down, looking up at Clark riding me, feeling his head around me, my life was his, yet again. I told him that, finally, after he collapsed on me, sated, sticky, murmuring soft words of love. He smiled and said that his life was mine, also. And that’s when I knew it was true. I took his life, as gladly as I’d given mine. And that was when I realised something. Something I’d often thought was bad, but with Clark it was only good. When you take someone’s life, you lose a part of your own as well. << |