#idiocy

Cuz ya know, that makes total sense. Current Palestinian societies are run by Jihadists who want to genocide the Jews, but if we just dissolve Israel and let them take over then they'll get rid of their extremist genocidal views and embrace democracy!

..."recipe". Mmf.

Then I went to my recipe box and pulled out the card for the really excellent turkey I made last year. It was an experiment and it turned out so good that I wrote down what I'd done after a couple glasses of wine and put it in the recipe box.

And reader, the first line of the directions. I read myself for filth.

"friends can kiss, right?"

you let out a muffled gasp into meguru!'s mouth, hands meeting his chest. when he felt the press of them, he pulled back an inch to see your face. "if you really want me to stop, say it." he seemed to ponder for a moment, before a grin spread back on his lips, which pressed back on yours in a smooth sting of questions. his hand reached up to graze your chin, only to glide up and pinch your cheek. "but then again, you can't, can you? not if my mouth stays on yours." he came forward again, moving a lock of hair from your face.

you didn't think much; just threw your arms out in trivial opt. he let you push him though, licking your taste from his lips as he propped his arms behind him on a cushion. he didn't say anything, just looking at you through his eyelashes as if waiting for you to say something first. to explain yourself. your breath shuddered, gulping down the words that jump back out, "...w-we shouldn't be doing this."

he snickered, leaning forward with his hands in front of him. "hah, you can't be serious. you say that now?"

"I am!.." you said, barely inaudible. "don't you think it's better we don't go too far..." being more of a statement than a question, you tried again, "I'm not sure..."

"we don't have to be more than what we are," he quickly cut you off, assuming whatever you were afraid to say. "more than friends, I mean." he read your face, your conflicted display stirring a tilt of his lips.

you don't say anything. not yet, at least. for a second, he's as unreadable as he's often an inconsiderate idiot. and then there's that wide smile again, his gaze pulling strings at your head.

"why're you always spouting nonsense about staying friends?..what if I was thinking otherwise?" you looked down in what came off as guilt. should you have said that?

he raised his eyebrows, shaking his head with stifled laughter. what the hell was so funny? when his eyes fell back on you, they were filled with a shimmer of glee. he doesn't take you seriously, does he. "then we can do that too! what does it really matter?" he shifted closer until your bodies touched, palms rising to cradle your face.

you should've looked up with some kind of hope; your heart bursting with desire. however, some part of you wished he'd replied with rejection, and your eyes remained downcast toward your fidgeting hands. what was wrong with you? he was right in front of you, and you still hesitated. "..did you even care to think about what you just said?" your voice quivered. this is what happens when you use your mouth before your mind.

he stalled. he kept his warm palms seeping into your skin. he didn't break eye contact with your face, even while yours stayed completely unrequited. you could hear him let out a short breath before letting you go, distancing from you. right. now he wont even touch you anymore. "so you don't want to stay friends, and you don't wanna be more." it came out as a fact more than a question. "we clearly don't feel the same way," his words were slow, as if it was hard to say. hard to believe.

you couldn't dare it upon yourself to say anything. you were quiet when he put up that eccentric grin again. you didn't say anything when he shifted to stand up. you didn't utter a word when his footsteps seemed to echo from the wooden floor, not a sound when he passed the corner, not a mutter when he padded into his room.

you were left to ponder if it was like him to give up so easily. was it his words, or your own that made you fall out of rhythm?.. did you tick because of his immaturity, or because you could never find the pride to share his enthusiasm. out of all the things you were feeling, you chose to turn a blind eye to regret. maybe it was better for things to stay how they were; eased, and tense.