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Viewing Single Post From: We're In This Together
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Who is this sassy lost child
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Oh. This was. Well.

They’d kissed before, in the car after Sadie Hawkins, hands in each others’ hair, pressed closer together than you strictly should be while sitting in the school parking lot. Every time he thought back to the dance it brought on a weird cocktail of emotions: his irritation at Scarlett, alternating between fretting and exasperation over Henry, and underlying it all the mantra of don’t fuck this up, don’t fuck this up every time Hazel smiled at him or brushed his hand. Things hadn’t gone any further than making out in the car, but it had felt like a win. This, now…

Jae didn’t know what it felt like. He hadn’t planned on it or worried about the possibility of it like he had during the dance. “I mean,” he mumbled against Hazel’s lips, still off-guard. He pulled back just a hair to speak. “I got the impression. Not, like, in a bad way, you know-”

And this wasn’t the time or the place to stumble over himself, not when school and rumors and what people might think were a million miles away. He turned his hand to twine his fingers with Hazel’s, trying to ground himself.

“I, um,” Jae started, and then kissed her back to shut himself up.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."

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