She was not in the habit of kissing strange boys. And this boy was strange, no doubt about it. He danced like the crazy homeless man she had seen on the streets of Nashville. But on him it was cute, sexy even.
She touched her fingers to his hair, soft and blonde and hanging over his shirt collar like yellow silk. Fine, thin hair that he would lose someday in the not so distant future. She always could predict those kinds of things. Strange though he was, when he moved his lips to hers she accepted and returned the kiss.
Today's post is my entry into this week's 100 Word Challenge, hosted by Velvet Verbosity.
The prompt was "fingers".
The prompt was "fingers".
