Her stomach was showing slightly and the moon's milky rays cast dancing shadows across it in the dulled cold of the room. She swore and smiled and shadows danced with the tendrels of her locks and the conversation gradually slowed to a muted bliss. He had a faint scent of cologne, sweat and cigarette smoke. The smells clung to his hair and she inhaled deeply she felt at home wrapped in the smell of affection and brute machoness.
They'd spent the entire summer hand in hand, having picnics and reading to each other in enhanced accents and serious tones. Their passion rang deeper than the words that spilled from the pages and I knew things would never be the same between us all once this thing between them had commenced. It was complicated and an ache that throbbed in the hearts and stomachs of all the teenagers that we ever encountered. We were all suddenly extremely aware of our superficiality ; or at least the mess of it that we seemed to have fallen into.