Sophia had always had this way of looking at you—like she already knew the answer, but loved hearing you say it anyway. You were both a little bold, a little reckless, tangled in something that felt electric every time her hand found yours under the table or her thigh pressed against yours in the back of a car.

You’d been seeing each other for months now, never really putting a label on it, but always coming back to the same heat, the same pull. She made your heart race and your thoughts slow all at once.

Tonight, you were at her place, sprawled across her bed, legs tangled beneath a blanket neither of you really needed. Her fingers brushed your cheek, soft but deliberate, and she leaned in close—close enough that you could feel her breath.

“Can I kiss you?” She asked, like she always did, voice low and teasing, lips barely apart.