Okay, so here I go again. This is still the novel about Emma. It's supposed to be written almost like the reader is hearing Emma's own thoughts, that's why the language isn't super advanced. So, Emma and Jesper "have a thing", he is quite in love with her and she is ... well, she doesn't really know how to say no, besides, she wants to give him a chance at least, there might be some feelings for him there. This scene takes place at a party hosted by Max. It's Emma's first kiss ever. Oh, and this is a translation from Swedish, since I am writing it in Swedish, so if some parts seem a bit rough around the edges, it might be my faulty translations.
So, how does the text flow? Does it flow at all? Most importantly, does Emma sound believable? What are your thought, basically!
A walk. Jesper had asked if I wanted to go for a walk. That could only mean one things for two people who were almost-dating: kisses. Leastwise! Now it was going to happen - Emma Cecilia Sjöö would go from hopelessly unkissed to ... kissed. So we walked and talked and it was almost normal, almost not nervous. Max really lived on the countryside . I had never been so far from other houses before. Not a streetlight in sight. The only sounds I could hear was the remote noise from the party - pumped up music and laughter, cracks from the darkness of the forest around us and our footsteps on the gravel road. We approached a four road crossing (I had no idea where the roads lead, since I felt it was impossible that anyone would live even further away from the town than Max did), but the junction created a little glade in the thick forest, and there in the middle, we bathed in moonlight. Everything was either silver white or pitch black. We held each other, Jesper and I, maybe to keep balance. I was not that drunk, but I still could not really keep my balance. Who would have thought that bourbon and cigarette smoke could smell so good on another person? I had always associated the cigarette smell with pensioner's old frowsy homes or with Jens, the janitor at my old school, who had had dried-up, yellow sweat stains under his armpits. But with Jesper it was entirely different. The bourbon smelled woody and the cigarettes smoky and spicy. The moonlight and the smell in Jesper's neck - it was more than okay. It was good. Really good. Then it all stopped when Jesper leaned back. Our foreheads rested against each other and I remember thinking, "From this angle, Jesper looks like a cyclops," because when I was so close to him, the parts of his face melted together in the middle. I closed my eyes, because cyclops Jesper made me dizzy. That's when it happened. We kissed. It was nothing more than two lips touching each other. No special fireworks. A heavy rock of disappointment started rolling. Was this what I had waited for, what I had dreamed about, what everyone had been talking about? It was warm and moist, but it was even warmer and moister behind my eyelids, where tears were building up. The forest was breathing in my neck. Jesper's hands were by the end of my back, but never touched my butt. He sure was a gentleman. "Maybe we should go back to the party now, before they start getting ideas about us?" I said and forced myself to smile a mischievous smile, so maybe he would not notice my tears.