- 092. Surprised
The first time he kissed her, it was a total shock to them both.
They sat together on an old towel he hastily grabbed out of the bin in the garage, her skin slathered with sunscreen, his, roasting in the island sun. In their hands were melting ice cream cones; they laughed and raced to lick the drips up before they could reach their hands. They were sticky with vanilla and strawberry anyway.
One moment Enzo was watching the calm surf roll in and out, tourists and his people alike screeching and playing in it, and the next, he looked over at Satu. She wasn't concentrating on her ice cream any more, though her tongue flicked out at it every so often. She was, however, quite oblivious to how beautifully pale her skin was in the sunlight, how blue her eyes were, like the ocean he loved so much... a strand of butter-blonde hair fell in her face, and that was it.
He leaned over, and something of a trace of the Spanish passion flared up in him. It was a kiss like ice cream after you haven't had it forever, watching the Lion King for the first time in years. A kiss for dancing in the rain, a dodger blue house with yellow shutters, for curly haired Spaniards and snow-skinned Swedes. A kiss for the holidays, for the nights and the mornings and for the sea, reaching out like a hand, swelling, to wash you clean of any and everything you've ever done wrong.
