Kissing Jeeves, part II

For part I, go here.

As stated before, I wrote this when I was around 15 years old. I will not be editing it except to change a spelling or word I think I must have done by mistake (unless it's funny, then I will leave it.) But I will be inserting my unwelcome adult thoughts here and there.

The next morning, I was awakened by a soft pat on the shoulder. Jeeves was standing over me. As I opened my eyes, I noted a strange expression on his face, but instantly he masked his face into the normal expression. I found I was too weak to lift myself fully upright and he helped me sit up. he had brought orange juice and i drank it.

"Do you wish for me to wash your hair for you?" He asked, looking distantly at me. "Your mother implied that she would call on you later in the day."

Teenage girl hair-washing is a part of the manservant's duties? Exactly what kind of establishment are you running, Mr. Wooster?

I instantly blushed. What a wreck I was! My hair, tangled and slightly stringy, was in the remains of the French braid I had worn the night before. "Yes," I said, blushing.

lots of blushing. But then, as a fifteen year old, I was quite good at blushing, so this is highly appropriate.

"Very good, miss," he replied. A few minutes later he appeared with a basin of water and some soap. He helped me lean over his lap, in which he placed the basin, and gently applied th soap and rinsed it out.

seems an awkward arrangement.

As he combed my hair

she must be very weak, indeed

the feeling of his hands against my neck sent tingles scattering over me. As he finished, I looked sidelong at him and noticed that same strange expression his face had held before.

"Jeeves, have you ever been in love?" I asked him, then blushed. "SOrry, that was a rude thing to ask." I turned my face away from him. He turned it slowly back, so that I could lok at him.

"Never before,' he said. He was so close that I could feel a slight breath on my face. "Who..." I asked, then faltered. We gazed at each other

my characters still gaze at each other quite a bit. It gets to be a problem sometimes.

he still with his fingers on my neck. Suddenly he pulled me to him, and our lips met, again and again.

OK. I find this disturbing, because the adult me who has seen the BBC productions pictures Steven Fry in this scene.

There were tears on my face, and he dried them with a slight smile. He picked up the basin, and left. I realized he had left the soap and towel. He returned and cooly took them out as well.

My mind was racing. What had just happened to me?

let's not speculate on that one.

Part III coming soon.