"Hey... Karl..." she murmured weakly under his lips.
He’d been kissing her for ten minutes straight like a man starved, his lips pulling her lower one wider so he could push deeper into her mouth with his tongue. His hands pinned hers down on either side, fingers intertwined, his chest pressing against hers so tightly she could feel his wild heartbeat even through that thick sweatshirt.
Upon hearing her weak plea, his eyelids slowly lifted and the relentless assault on her lips stopped. "What?" he whispered softly, calm eyes fixed on her lips, now all moist and red.
"What are you..." she panted, "what are you doing?"
"I think I know what I want from you for that favor now, birdie," he murmured, biting her chin gently, almost playfully. "I want to see you... the way you see too."
Her brow furrowed, her cheeks burning. "What... do you an...?"
He let go of her chin and looked into her eyes, tone unwavering. "If you’re really gonna date AK, consider dating too."
Her eyes flew wide once more. It’d been quite enough shocks for one day already, and now, Karl Hanski wanted to date her too? Had the whole world gone mad?
"Karl Hanski, are you feeling alright?" she muttered, one brow rising.
"I am absolutely fine," he scowled, stressing each word, "and I’ve never felt more sane in my life. I’m serious."
She didn’t buy it. "Your face is all red and hot, Karl. Even your eyes are wet and soft right now. I think you might be having a fever."
"I’m not on a fever!" he snapped, growling. "And even if I am, then it’s definitely because of you!"
He released both her hands, sat up and rubbed his face in frustration. This crazy birdie just had to destroy the mood like that. Hadn’t he kiss her passionately for ten minutes straight just now? How co she didn’t understand his eyes and face were like that because he was turned on?
She pushed herself up from the couch, her heart still pounding wildly in her chest. As relieved as she was that Karl had let her go so easily, seeing his pouting face now made a pang of guilt rise in her chest.
"Hey..." she called, poking his shoulder. "I’m sorry if I said sothing wrong."
His pouting face stayed turned away from her, voice sulking. "I don’t want apologies. Make up for it."
She sighed, already regretting her words. "Will you look at at least?" she pleaded, poking him again.
He turned to her, still sulking. She suddenly felt like she was dealing with a fussy toddler rather than a grown man six years older than her. Those pouty cheeks were puffed up like stuffed buns. Without thinking, she leaned in and pressed her lips to one of those stuffed buns.
Almost imdiately, his pout flatten into a dumb, stunned expression. A soft chuckle slipped out of her, unbidden and teasing. But the chuckle didn’t last. He’d already grabbed her arms, pushed her back against the sofa, and crushed his lips onto hers in another deep, hungry kiss.
"Hnn... mmm..." he moaned, "this ti you’ll definitely make up for it, you cheeky little birdie."
"Mmm... mmm—" she struggled, "what about the song?"
"The song can wait," he muttered, frustrated. "I can’t." The hardness pressing against her thigh made that point very clear.
She panicked upon feeling it. Her hands slid up his chest and pushed him back firmly. "No, Karl, listen!" her voice rose. "You gave the song, and you want to win. I know the festival is nothing to you, but it ans a lot to that you’re giving your song. It’s amazing, and I want to do it well. So can we please practice it first and continue... whatever this is later? You want a date? I’ll date you!"
Karl let out an annoyed sigh. His hands loosened around her arms and slid to her back, pulling her into a tight embrace. As glad as he was that she finally agreed to date him, her fiery speech was basically a bucket of cold water on the burning itch between his legs.
"Fine. We work," he muttered, pressing another kiss on her lips. "But rember what you said. I’m gonna make sure you make up for every single thing I’ve endured today."
"Alright, alright," she scowled. "Have your payback however you like. Now will you let go? We can’t practice like this." She poked at the ticklish spots on his sides.
The poking did nothing to him — it only made him squeeze her tighter like her ribs might fall apart. "No, we can practice like this," he murmured into her ear, tone playful. "How about I sing each line to you, and you just sing it back to like this?"
Her face imdiately darkened. "That’s the most horrible idea I’ve ever heard in my life."
"No protest," he muttered. "Don’t forget the song is mine. I get to decide how I’m gonna guide you through it."
So, for the next one hour or so, Kaija went through the weirdest practice session of her life. Karl sang each line of the song while keeping her locked tight in his arms and made her sing it back in that exact position.
He didn’t even let her see the lyrics. He just fed her each line by ear and forced her to morize everything from his singing alone, stretching the session out even longer.
It would’ve been such a romantic experience, had the song been a soft ballad or a love song. But no, this was a powerful piece full of rage and hatred. If anyone else had walked in, they would’ve seen a handso man and a beautiful girl spitting furious rap verses at each other while locking in a lovey-dovey embrace.
Once the last line was done, she leaned back heavily against the sofa, her neck dropping all the way back as she gasped for air. "That was the most singing I’ve done in one go."
"You did it way better than I expected for a first try, birdie," he chuckled, eyes lingering on the exposed skin of her neck. Without warning, he buried his face there and started kissing gently, making her shudder.
"What are you doing?" she mumbled, too tired to pull away. "It’s late. I should get back, and you should rest."
The kissing stopped. His hand slid up to her jaw, pulling her face down so she could see the seriousness in his eyes as he said, "You’re not going anywhere, birdie. Stay here tonight."
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