“Oi, Risa.” He turned to look at her again, scooting over slightly to whisper in her ear. “Do you even like Pink Floyd?”
Her eyes flickered to meet his, darted back to the ceiling, and returned. “No, not particularly,” she confessed; even though he couldn’t see it in the dark he knew that there was that goddamned evil grin plastered across her face, too.
“I should have known you just wanted to get me alone in the dark,” he smirked, ignoring the fact that they weren't alone at all in any sense except that she was the only other person close enough for his eyes to register in the blackness of the dome. As it was, he could barely make out her silhouette and face, only visible thanks to the glow of the lasers flashing on the ceiling above them. But, he could tell she was inching her way closer, her thigh touching his in the just-barely sort of way usually reserved for under the tables in high school: enough to make contact, but not enough to warrant or solicit a negative reaction from the other party.
“And what if I did?” she breathed, voice unnervingly close.
No, wait a second. She was just messing with him right? She'd pull back in a few seconds, giggling like she had just proved some major point by acting like a tease. “Then I suppose I would have to oblige.” Fingertips touched, followed by shoulders, and Jack gave up pretending to actually watch the lights, or anything else for that matter. He couldn't even count the number of times this had almost happened to him, even with Risa, sitting next to each other at a bar stupidly drunk and giggling like schoolgirls. But now, here they were, both completely sober and...
“Oh good.” Soft lips vaguely tasting of mandarin oranges pressed against his, completely halting his thought process. Clearly, they were no longer in a hypothetical situation; he reciprocated the gesture, eyelids fluttering closed. No, this wasn't the first time, was it, even though neither one of them would have ever admitted it had the subject arisen. It was, however, the first time they had kissed sober, and that made all the difference.
Needless to say, he didn't pay much attention to the rest of the show.
The last song on the album ended, but the lights stayed down; Risa ended the kiss but her face lingered close in the darkness while he licked the remnants of lipgloss off his lips.
“So, you guys want an encore?” the peppy radio-personality voice asked in an almost sultry manner, almost as though he knew what was really going on while he made little points of light flit around the ceiling.
The crowd cheered and Jack found himself joining in, for no apparent reason other than the fact that he could and the adrenaline rushing through his veins told him it was a good idea.
~~~
A short story written with the characters from Millennials. I didn't write this in order, for some reason, and so there are several parts that are incomplete that need to be pieced together. I'll post them separately, in chronological order and link to all of them at the bottom. If I ever finish it, I'll consolidate it into a single post.
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