A thousand Boy Kisses

Forever always.
“Poppy,” I whispered, and leaned toward her. Poppy froze, but I didn’t kiss
her. I wouldn’t. I could see that she couldn’t read me. She didn’t know me.
I hardly knew myself these days.
Instead, I laid my lips on my own fingers—still over her lips, forming a barrier
between our mouths—and just breathed her in. I inhaled her scent—sugar and
vanilla. My body felt energized simply from being near her.
Then my heart cracked down the center as I moved back and she asked
brokenly, “How many?”
I frowned. I searched her face for a clue to what she was asking. Poppy
swallowed and, this time, she placed her fingers over my lips. “How many?” she
repeated.

---

I knew then exactly what she was asking. Because she stared at my lips like
they were a betrayer. She stared at them like something she once loved, lost, and
could never win back.
Ice-coldness ran through me as Poppy pulled her shaking hand away. Her
expression was guarded, her breath held in her chest as though protecting herself
from what I would say. But I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t, that look on her
face slew me.
Poppy exhaled and said, “I know about Avery, of course, but were there any
others in Oslo? I mean, I know there will have been, but, was it a lot?”
“Does it matter?” I asked, my voice low. Poppy’s paper heart was still in my
hand, the significance of it almost scalding my skin.
The promise of our lips.
The promise of our halved hearts.
Forever always.
Poppy slowly began to shake her head, but then, shoulders slumping, she
nodded once. “Yes,” she whispered, “it matters. It shouldn’t. I set you free.” She
dropped her head. “But it does. It matters more than you’d understand.”
She was wrong. I understood why it mattered so much. It did to me too.
“I was away a long time,” I said. In that moment, I knew that the anger that
held me captive had taken back control. Some sick part of me wanted to hurt her
like she’d hurt me.
“I know,” Poppy agreed, her head still low.
“I’m seventeen,” I continued. Poppy’s eyes snapped to mine.
Her face had paled. “Oh,” she said, and I could hear every hint of pain in that
tiny word. “So what I feared is true. You have been with others, intimately …
like you were with me. I … I just…”
Poppy moved to the edge of the bed, but I reached out and caught her retreating
wrist. “Why does it matter?” I demanded, and saw her eyes glisten with tears.
The anger within me dimmed slightly, but it came back as I thought of those
lost years. Years I’d spent drinking and partying away my pain, while Poppy

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was sick. It almost made me shake with rage.
“I don’t know,” Poppy said, then shook her head. “That was a lie. Because I do
know. It’s because you’re mine. And despite it all, all the things that have
happened between us, I kept a vain hope that you would keep your promise. That
it meant that much to you too. Despite everything.”
I dropped my hand from her wrist, and Poppy got to her feet. She headed for
her door. Just as she reached for the doorknob, I said quietly, “It did.”
Poppy froze, her back bunched. “What?”
She didn’t turn. Instead, I got to my feet and walked to where she stood. I
leaned down, making sure that she would hear my confession. My breath blew
her hair from her ear, as I said, so quietly I could barely hear myself, “The
promise did mean as much to me. You meant that much to me … you still do.
Somewhere, underneath all this anger … there’s you and only you. It will always
be that way for me.” Poppy still hadn’t moved. I drew in closer. “Forever
always.”
She turned, until our chests were touching and her green eyes were staring into
mine. “You … I don’t understand,” she said.
I slowly lifted my hand and pushed it through her hair. Poppy’s eyes fluttered
to a close as I did so, but they opened again to watch me. “I kept my promise,” I
admitted and watched the shock cross her face.
She shook her head. “But I saw … you kissed—”
“I kept my promise,” I interrupted. “Since the day I left you, I haven’t kissed
anyone else. My lips are still yours. There’s never been anyone else. There never
will be.”
Poppy’s mouth opened, then closed. When it opened again, she said, “But you
and Avery…”
My jaw clenched. “I knew you were near. I was pissed. I wanted to hurt you
like you hurt me.” Poppy shook her head in disbelief. I stepped closer still. “I
knew seeing me with Avery would do that to you. So I sat beside her and waited
until you appeared. I wanted you to believe that I was about to kiss her … until I

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saw your face. Until I saw you run from the room. Until I couldn’t stand seeing
the pain I’d caused.”
Tears spilled down Poppy’s cheeks. “Why would you do that? Rune, you
wouldn’t—”
“I would and I did,” I said, curtly.
“Why?” she whispered.
I smiled humorlessly. “Because you’re right. I’m not the boy you knew. I was
filled with so much anger when I was taken from you, that after a while, it was
the only thing I felt. I tried to hide it when we talked, fought against it, knowing
I still had you with me even if we were thousands of miles apart. But when you
cut me off, I didn’t care anymore. I let it consume me. It has consumed me so
much since then that it has become me.” I reached down for Poppy’s hand and
brought it over my chest.
“I’m half a heart. This, who I am now, was due to a life devoid of you. This
darkness, this anger, was born from you not being by my side. Poppymin. My
adventurer. My girl.” And then the pain returned. For that brief few minutes, I
had forgotten our new reality. “And now,” I said through gritted teeth, “now you
tell me you’re leaving me for good. I…” I choked on my words.
“Rune,” Poppy murmured, and threw herself into my arms, wrapping hers
tightly around my waist.
Instantly, my arms locked around her like a vise. As her body melted into mine,
I breathed. I breathed the first clean breath in a long while. Then it became
restricted, strangled, when I said, “I can’t lose you, Poppymin. I can’t. I can’t let
you go. I can’t live without you. You’re my forever always. You’re meant to
walk beside me through this life. You need me and I need you. That’s all there is
to it.” I felt her shaking in my arms. “I won’t be able to let you go. Because
wherever you go, I have to go too. I’ve tried living without you, it doesn’t
work.”
Slowly, and as carefully as she could, Poppy lifted her head, separating our
bodies just enough to look at me and whisper brokenly, “I can’t take you with

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me where I’m going.”
As her words sunk in, I stumbled back, freeing my arms from around her waist.
I didn’t stop until I sat down on the edge of the bed. I couldn’t handle it. How the