The following is from my upcoming novel, Ragged: A Post-Apocalyptic Fairy Tale, coming out January 24th, 2011. It’s a young adult novel about lesbians, fairies and the end of the world. <3

~*~

Her face is pleading now. “We are in this together. We are here together. We are together. I will keep you safe. You must help me find the earth mother.”

“That’s it?” I say, feeling like the world’s most gigantic and colossal ass for going there, but I can’t help it. “That’s it…that’s all this is? That’s all all of this is?”

“I don’t understand…”

“Of course you don’t understand,” I mutter.  She stares at me with wide, inhuman eyes, and of course she doesn’t understand.

“I fucking like you, Din,” I say then, explode the words out, and I could die, could crawl into a hole of my own digging, but she shakes her head, doesn’t understand.

“I like you, too,” she manages, holding out her hands to me. “So we like each other…”

“No, not like. Argh,” I say, and then I step forward, and I cannot believe I’m doing this, holy shit, holy shit, I stand up on my toes and put my hands on her shoulder and one around her waist and kiss her.

I’ve never kissed anyone. I don’t know what I expected. It was nothing like this, though, this warmth, this sweetness, this softness. She stands perfectly still, and I kiss her, and the candlelight seems to flare for everything is light, light, and then I drop back down to the flats of my feet, run my hand through my hair, heart pounding so hard it’s going to knock itself out of my body and across the dirty floor.

Din stares at me, just stares. “Din,” I whisper, and I rub at my hands. I can’t look at her. “Please say something?” I say, then, to fill the silence. “I’m sorry…”

I stop, because she’s stepped forward, put her hand on my wrist, and now it’s moving up, up my arm to my elbow, fingertips so soft, a heartbeat on my skin. I shiver, can’t look at her, the blush taking up roots in my soul, burning hot, hotter.

“Huh,” is what she says, and then I’m looking up at her. She’s smiling this funny little smile, lips curled up at the edges, tongue out at the edge, as if tasting.

“What?” I whisper.

“I knew you’d taste like chocolate,” she says, then, still smiling. I don’t know what to do, say, feel, ten thousand things at once roar up in me, and then settle, expand, grow.  My heart grows.

“Chocolate,” I whisper, and she nods, reaches out with her index finger, touches my lips, and then my cheek and my chin.

“Talula,” she says, but I shake my head, feel the tears crowd, wanting to be shed.

“Don’t say anything,” I whisper. “If you say nothing, I can have a single night where there are possibilities.”

She opens and shuts her mouth, too, then, still smiling that mysterious little smile. But then she nods once, twice.

“One night,” she says, and then blows out the candle, and we make ourselves as comfortable as we can on the barn floor, on the hay, making a little nest with our bodies, curling toward each other like commas.

In the dark, she reaches out, and she takes my hand.

A thrill, so vibrant it’s like a shock, suspends me in something new and indescribable.

She squeezes my hand, fingers spiraling in my palm.

It means she’s real. I’m real. This moment is impossible but real.

Every waited heartbeat was worth her.

~*~

(Image from in-love-with-a-girl <3)