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Peppermint This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

Peppermint. Vince always smelled strongly of peppermint.

I crinkled my nose as I drew nearer to him, though I adored the scent. It sent chills slithering up my spine, pleasant chills reminding me of the lush autumn days spent lounging beneath trees at the park. The refreshing breeze would send collages of leaves tumbling in our direction, their spiraled patterns spelling out our “passionate love,” as Vince was so inclined to refer to it as. I for one was not so quick to judge a book by its cover, and narrowing my eyes at him, I'd stated, “You are nothing more than my good friend. Period.”

But he'd then proceed to brush a strand of my hair from my creased forehead, his amusement evident in his expression. “But you have to admit, I'm very good at being your good friend.”

Before I was able to protest, his lips had captured mine in an ecstatic lock of desire; otherwise known as a kiss. A kiss, something I'd never expected to happen to me. But it had.

Now, as I inched nearer into his outstretched arms, I inhaled gratefully the sweet scent of peppermint, which was the product of his constant usage of breath mints. How he'd ever survive without them I'd never know, yet I longed to taste it. I longed for him.

“Come here, you,” he whispered, an unwanted smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. I sighed and collapsed into his arms, my body colliding with his and fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. The sudden wave of peppermint smacked me in the face, its sweetness erupting with bursts of celebration. The feel of his army uniform was crisp and harsh, yet welcoming in its presence. It scratched my fingers, my skin scorched at the touch of the rough material. I breathed, drunk with the sensation of him, of my definite significant other.

My face drifted upwards, so that our noses were nearly touching, and suddenly he was hugging me even more towards him, so that our lips locked together, intercepting in an abrupt rush of adrenaline. His lips were soft, but his kiss sturdy and lustful, unafraid of harming me. He knew I could handle anything thrust my way, anything at all. And I longed for this type of kiss; I'd longed for far too long. Greedily, I flung my arms around his neck, pulling him in, and savored the light taste of peppermint. It seeped into my mouth and tingled my lips, urging me to continue.

The faint sound of his breathing, his murmured whispers of affection in my ear, were enough to send me flying. Once I peeled myself away from him, his gaze captured mine, and I stared mindlessly into his delicate blue eyes, unable to speak another word. His eyes portrayed the misery he'd gone through being separated from me. I'm more than certain my eyes told him the same.

Peppermint. The lingering taste of love. Who knew?



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