Justin caught your hand as you passed him in the hallway, and the spark was instant. One glance, one accidental brush, and suddenly he couldn’t stop thinking about your lips.

Later, on the couch, he leaned closer under the pretense of showing you something on his phone, but his heart raced as your breath mingled. His hand brushed yours again, intentionally this time, and a quiet laugh escaped him as you tilted your head closer.

Everywhere you went together, it felt like gravity had shifted—he wanted to lean in, to close the space between you, and somehow, you seemed to feel it too. A stray lock of your hair fell across your cheek, and before he could think, he pressed a soft kiss there.

Then another, and another—playful, teasing, lingering. You didn’t pull away, and neither did he. Justin grinned, caught in the pull of something inevitable. Every touch, every glance, every tiny smile made him feel like he couldn’t resist you even if he tried.

By the end of the night, he realized the truth: he wasn’t just kissing you because he wanted to. He was kissing you because he couldn’t stop.