You’d been in Ash’s country for six months, here on your exchange year. Back home, Alex lingered in the corners of memory—your first love, the one you’d left because distance had felt like an impossible wall. The breakup had hurt, of course, but you both knew it was the best option. When you arrived here, you were single, untangled. Meeting Ash hadn’t been fireworks at first—you’d clicked slowly through mutual friends—but eventually, it became something neither of you had expected.

Ash, quietly, sometimes wondered if Alex still crossed your mind. First loves leave marks that aren’t easily erased. He noticed little hints—how your eyes flicked when someone asked if you had a boyfriend back home—but you never gave him reason to doubt. You never brought Alex up. So he shoved it down, stayed present.

Tonight, you were spending the night at Ash’s. The movie’s credits rolled across the screen, bathing his bedroom in flickering light. You were curled up against him, your head resting against his chest, his arm draped loosely around you.

He reached for the remote, turned the volume down, and the silence that followed felt heavier than it should have. You looked up at him. His dark eyes caught yours, lazy and warm at first, then something sharper, hungrier, settled there.

He didn’t say anything — just brushed a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering at your jaw. The air shifted. He leaned in, slow enough for you to feel your heartbeat catch before his lips met yours.

The kiss deepened — a little rougher, a little less careful. You could feel the tension in his body under your hands, the restraint slipping away bit by bit. His hand slid along your side, stopping at your waist, waiting for you to breathe yes before he moved closer. You did.

Your skin burned where his touch followed, your hand finding the back of his neck, the other tracing the line of his tattoos beneath his shirt. The movie was forgotten; the world outside didn’t exist. Just the heat, the breaths, the quiet sound of his voice murmuring your name between kisses—

And then it happened.

“Alex…” you exhaled softly.

It came out soft, barely there, but enough. Enough for him to freeze.

You felt it instantly — the way his hand that was going to grab the hem of your t-shirt stopped mid-motion, the way the air between you shattered.