Butterfly Kisses

I sit down next to her after putting in the DVD. I'm not really sure why we bother with movies- cause we both end up just talking and flirting with each other. It's just like a very amusing game. The movie starts and we're both quiet but that last as long..well..just not very long. She has to take simple pleasures in telling me whats going to happen next. She does that obnoxious little smirk of hers and even though I could honestly care less, I flick her. She pretends to be hurt and it's so cute. I love looking at her, I love the way she acts. She smiles at me- that warm "I-love-you-and-I'm-just-happy-to-be-around-you-right-now" smile that is always plastered on her face when we're together. It gives me butterflies in my stomache and I can feel myself blushing. But the game doesn't work if I gave into the butterflies, so I blow her off- rolling my eyes and telling her to stop looking at me. I quietly wonder how things can be so ordinary, so simple and so wonderful at the same time. But thats the way our relationship is beautiful- we love the simple things. I love flirting with her and listening to that giggle of hers, thats more wonderful than any song. I try and focus my attention back on the movie, but my eyes rest on her hand. So small..so delicate. So friendly. I know that when I pick her hand up, her fingers with slide smothly and lace with mine. And I'll wonder if there are any two hands fit as perfectly as ours do, and then know that there aren't. My fingers wander to her own and they lock, unlock and play around with each other. We lightly playfight with our hands, our eyes on the movie. Suddenly, I know she's looking at me and I know if I catch her, she'll pretend like it didn't happen. I look over and she looks away, slightly blushing. I laugh and the butterflies flutter around some more. I lace my fingers through her hair, cupping the back of her neck. She looks over at me, quietly staring at me and I don't think my heart can beat any faster. She always does this to me- makes my heart race without doing a single thing. She gives me butterflies in my stomache, sends fireworks off. So pathetically cliche, but it's all so true. If we're quiet enough (which we never are), sometimes I think I almost hear wedding bells. Thinking of all this, I smile again. A stupid, goofy grin. She throws a stupid, goofy grin back at me. I pull her in by the back of her neck and press my lips againsts hers, and then cover her face in kisses. She rolls away, trying to save herself from a certain impending kissing death and I just roll ontop of her and cover her face some more. I make kissing noises at her too, to make her giggle. I still have to have her attention, after so long. I kiss her nose, her eyes, her cheeks. Every part of her face that I've memorized the feel of under my lips- I kiss. I can't get enough of her laugh. It falls on my ears after dancing around my head. I sigh happily, at these sweet simple kisses that the butterflies provake. And I know it's love.1