by Miz Yin
She never understood it; he had said repeatedly that he loved her; he even spoke of possibly tattooing her initials on his knuckles someday, and yet he had never kissed her; not in six months of knowing her, not in three-and-a-half months of tentatively dating her. Their one date was nothing to sneeze at; that lunch at Jack in the Box had been, well, magical. It had been her first date ever; no matter where it had been it would have been splendid. She had kissed him three times; the first time she had missed, the other two she had hit the target: his cheek; she, too, was shy — and she was getting frustrated with the immense amount of shyness in their relationship. She couldn’t think of someone she wanted to be kissed by more — it was adorable that he was so much of a gentleman, but dammit, she wanted to be kissed! But she was just going to have to wait or do it herself — after all, shy only gets you so far.
Miz Yin is a 19 year old college student hoping to one day become a freelance translator with some noveling on the side.