He moved his lips towards hers, and she leaned in closer, closing the distance between them. She waited for a spark, any sort of ignition that would rush through her veins and inform her she felt something for him. In return, all she got was nothing. She felt nothing. There was an absence of fire running through her body as his lips moved against hers. The taste of blueberry filled her mouth as his tongue founds her, and she wanted to pull away in disgust. She hated blueberries. He knew this. She pulled away, smirking as he jumped off the bed.