She was blushing too – and Effie didn’t think there was any scientific proof that blushing was contagious, unless there was something Effie May was embarrassed about too. And there was more to contend with, in that slight brush of their fingertips that sent a shiver down her spine; the returned assertion that she would miss her also; the way Miss Woodcroft’s gaze had flickered back up to her, almost furtive.
Effie gave up on trying to close the inkpot. She could scarcely function under that pressure – or temptation, if that was what it was. None of those signs were foolproof, but... there had to be something in them, didn’t there? None of Effie’s other friends had ever looked at her this way, she was positive. So she couldn’t just – let it go.
“I, er – there are – blossoms,” she blurted out. “Your hair.” Her other hand was reaching forwards as if to pluck the fallen flower petals out of the other Effie’s hair, since her brain was failing to string a full sentence together... but halfway through this gesture, it changed direction until her fingers were curving around the nape of the other girl’s neck. Without thinking, and entirely unaware she had just upended the still-open inkpot, Effie surged forwards on her knees and brought their faces closer together, so that she could meet Effie May’s lips with hers. She had no idea what she was doing – she hadn’t kissed anyone before – but her eyes had shut instinctively, as if to prolong the moment: she felt almost afraid to stop now, to break the kiss and lean back, in case she had been terribly, dreadfully wrong.
Effie gave up on trying to close the inkpot. She could scarcely function under that pressure – or temptation, if that was what it was. None of those signs were foolproof, but... there had to be something in them, didn’t there? None of Effie’s other friends had ever looked at her this way, she was positive. So she couldn’t just – let it go.
“I, er – there are – blossoms,” she blurted out. “Your hair.” Her other hand was reaching forwards as if to pluck the fallen flower petals out of the other Effie’s hair, since her brain was failing to string a full sentence together... but halfway through this gesture, it changed direction until her fingers were curving around the nape of the other girl’s neck. Without thinking, and entirely unaware she had just upended the still-open inkpot, Effie surged forwards on her knees and brought their faces closer together, so that she could meet Effie May’s lips with hers. She had no idea what she was doing – she hadn’t kissed anyone before – but her eyes had shut instinctively, as if to prolong the moment: she felt almost afraid to stop now, to break the kiss and lean back, in case she had been terribly, dreadfully wrong.
