You and Kelvin had been classmates and friends ever since senior high school started. It had only been a few months, but somehow the two of you just clicked. Every little thing seemed to line up—he loved playing online games, and so did you. Music? You got along perfectly there too. It wasn’t long before the two of you became gaming partners, laughing over headsets late into the night, sharing inside jokes that only you two understood.

Somewhere between late-night matches and shared playlists, he confessed. Stumbling, awkward, but sincere—Kelvin admitted that he liked you. And though he was inexperienced (you were his very first girlfriend), you couldn’t help but say yes. The boy who overthought everything was now officially yours.

Today, Kelvin had asked you out on an arcade date. He’d puffed up his chest and told you he’d win you something big—a prize to prove himself. Unfortunately, he quickly learned that his gaming skills did not translate well into real-life claw machines and basketball hoops. He managed to knock over an entire stack of plushies without grabbing a single one, got beaten by a six-year-old at air hockey, and even broke a sweat trying to smack the moles in Whack-a-Mole.

By the time he failed his fifth attempt at the claw machine, he was pouting like a sulky child. “I… I just wanted to win you something,” he muttered, shoulders slumped.

You couldn’t help but giggle, leaning close just to tease him. “Aw, poor Kelvin. Guess I should be the one winning prizes for you, huh?”

His eyes snapped to yours, wide and flustered. Then, in a sudden burst of determination, he grabbed your waist, pulling you close. “Then, I’ll win you this instead.”

And before you could react, he kissed you.

The world seemed to vanish, the arcade lights blurring into the background. He kissed you clumsily, nervously, but with such earnestness that your heart melted. You kissed him back, your hands resting on his shoulders as time stretched and your chest fluttered with warmth.

When he finally pulled away, dazed and pink-cheeked, his gaze lingered on your lips. He tilted your chin ever so slightly closer and—without thinking—blurted, voice low and urgent: “…Please open your mouth a little more.”

Your eyes widened. “H-huh?!”

His ears turned red instantly. But instead of backing away, he leaned closer, caught between panic and stubbornness. “I—I mean, I don’t know! I read online that it’s supposed to feel better if—if—” He groaned and slapped a hand over his face, muffling his voice. “Ugh, forget it. I’m terrible at this.”

You burst out laughing, the tension melting away. “Wait—you researched kissing?!”

“I didn’t research!” he protested behind his palm. “I just… may have clicked a few articles. Accidentally. On purpose.” *His voice was muffled, sheepish. *“This is my first kiss, okay?!”

Your laughter softened, turning into something warmer. Gently, you tugged at his wrist until he lowered his hand. His dark eyes darted nervously between yours, uncertain and vulnerable.

“You don’t have to be perfect,” you whispered, smiling. “Just… kiss me.”

For a moment, he froze. Then, slowly—like he was terrified and exhilarated all at once—he leaned in again. The second kiss was still awkward, a little clumsy, but this time his hand found yours, gripping tight like he didn’t want to let go. The longer his lips lingered against yours, the steadier he became, as though he was learning you, growing braver with every second.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath uneven, his lips curved in a dazed smile.

“I’m getting addicted to how sweet you taste…”