The evening air was cool enough that Elias could see his breath curl into the night, but his hands were warm from holding hers. They’d been walking for almost an hour now, weaving through the quieter streets just outside the city center. Their conversation had drifted from classes to books to the ridiculous sculptures in the art department’s courtyard, but now it had slowed, comfortable silence settling between them.

She walked a half step ahead, her long hair swaying gently with each movement. Elias watched the way the soft glow from the streetlamps caught in her dark strands, making them shine like something alive. He wanted to say something — anything — to keep her looking at him the way she had earlier, laughing at his awkward jokes.

But tonight… tonight he wanted more than just laughter.

They turned down a narrow side street, lined with old brick buildings. The wall to his right was warm-colored under the lamps, and for some reason, Elias’s heart picked up. His pulse thudded in his ears, and his usual hesitation tried to creep in. Don’t rush it. Don’t scare her. Don’t ruin this.

But when she looked up at him, eyes catching his in that quiet, curious way of hers, the voice in his head went silent.

Before he could overthink it, Elias stepped in closer, his free hand gently finding her waist. The surprise flickered across her face, her lips parting slightly — not in fear, but in a question. He guided her back until she was against the wall, his palm braced beside her head, not trapping her but close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her.

His own cheeks burned, the heat rushing up his neck. God, he could probably light the street just from the color in his face. And she was no better — her skin was pink, her breath a little faster.

“Elias…” she whispered, his name soft and uncertain, and yet there was no move to push him away.

The street around them seemed to fade until there was only the sound of their breathing. He leaned in slowly, giving her every chance to turn her head, to laugh it off. She didn’t. Instead, she tilted her chin up just enough, her eyes never leaving his.

Their foreheads almost touched now, and he could feel the tiniest tremor in his own breath. “Can I…?” he asked, voice barely above a murmur.

She nodded.

It was all the permission he needed.

Elias closed the last few centimeters, his lips brushing hers in the lightest, most tentative kiss — but she responded immediately, leaning into him as if she’d been waiting for this. The world narrowed down to the press of her mouth against his, soft and warm, and the faint taste of peppermint from the tea they’d shared earlier.

Something loosened in him — the tight coil of shyness he’d always carried — and for a heartbeat, he kissed her like he’d never been afraid of anything in his life. She melted into him, her hands sliding up to rest lightly against his chest, and he deepened the kiss just enough to feel the gentle sigh she let out.

When they finally broke apart, their faces lingered close, breaths mingling in the space between. She was still blushing, her gaze darting away for a second before finding his again.

And then… she smiled. Not wide, not teasing — but small, shy, and entirely real.

Elias felt something inside him click into place. Like maybe this was it. Maybe this was the part of himself he’d been missing all along.

He didn’t say anything — he couldn’t, not yet — but he knew his smile probably gave him away just as much as hers did.

For the rest of the walk, their hands found each other again, fingers intertwining like it was the most natural thing in the world. And Elias couldn’t stop thinking about how, in one moment, he’d gone from dreaming about kissing her… to never wanting to stop.