My favorite scenes to write in any novel is the first kiss scene:
Troy’s proximity made it hard for me to breath normal. My heart raced, and a drop of sweat started at my neck and slid all the way down my spine. As it descended, the panic ascended to my throat. The anxiety attack was inevitable. He grabbed my arm with more authority and moved closer, our faces inches apart.
He hesitated for a split second, but it was all the time I needed for my anxiety to get the better of me. I seized the opportunity to escape and headed for the door, but after one step, the grip on my triceps grew stronger. Troy had no intentions of letting go. When I turned back to protest, there was no hesitation this time. His lips landed on mine.
At first, it didn’t register. My surprise prevented me from kissing him back. He must have noted this, too. He pulled away. My stress level rose again because for him to stop kissing me seemed like the worst idea in the world. A hurricane, earthquake, and volcanic eruption combined didn’t seem as big of a disaster as Troy’s lips leaving mine. So I kissed him back.
I felt the relief in his lips as he relaxed.
I was keenly aware of the way his lips tasted, all smooth and wet and there was a hint of peppermint. Maybe I imaged it, but it made me giggle. I stopped when Troy stopped kissing me.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“I thought you would taste like peppermint, and you do.”
Do you have a favorite first kiss scene (reality or fiction) you would like to share?
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