>>11314060
"...heh. It was kinda awkward when we met. Right after the reunification of classes. Remember that? You just kinda... slammed directly into me. You were zoned out, far away. Maybe watching for one of those childhood reunions."
>she's cringing a little.
>so are you.
"Sent me flying. My books were too heavy for my body, it was lucky the knock on the head didn't mess me up worse."
>The room's fallen silent.
>Seems like every woman is now focused on whatever you'll say next.
>To judge you both for it.
>No pressure.
>You just need to cut out a few details.
>How good she smelled, how cute her 'eeep' sounded, how much you wanted to feel that first moment of collision again and again forever... that sweet hard crash of thighs and abdomen... that stays between the two of you.
"You were so fast after that. Made sure I was safe to move and then suddenly it was like I'd been flown to the school nurse by a superhero."
>she is now clutching her hands together between her legs and blushing ferociously. Her shoulders are rolling in to appear smaller.
>fix this.
"Do you remember what I said to the staff when we got there?"
>in a small voice she barely says "...you were dazed."
"I said, 'Everything's okay. An angel's touch saved me.'"
"'And she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.'"
>Not good.
>There's a phlegmy note to her breathing.
>She looks like she could start ugly crying.
"For weeks after that. Not dazed, not disoriented, just... a little ungrounded. I thought that might even be true."
>She's locked up, beet red.
"I thought, maybe if I just prayed to you, you'd be there. I didn't worry about anything. New school, dangerous girls, meteors falling from the sky. Anything. Because I'd felt the touch of an angel."
>again, omitting certain facts about touching ourselves.
"And you know, I'm still not convinced that you're not someone to pray to."