Being with Scott was the best thing that could have happened to you; he was caring and sweet, he always checked in on you whenever something happened, he could make you laugh, and he’d do anything to make you comfortable.

He wasn’t in a rush to move things along between you—he was perfectly fine taking things slow, at your pace. He understood that it was scary being in a real relationship for the first time; he’d been pretty scared the first time he had a real partner, too.

But tonight you had taken a step forward. Tonight, you had done it for the very first time.

At first, it had been horrifyingly awkward and weird—it didn’t feel at all how you thought it would, it didn’t feel good, just foreign and odd. But Scott’s soft murmuring and featherlight kisses dancing across your neck had made it all feel much better, and before you’d known it, the good had crept up on you and overwhelmed you, despite the good feeling disappearing far too quickly.

Even though the window behind his bed was open, it wasn’t cold; the checkered duvet that smelled like the boy next to you kept you warm enough to shield you from the breeze that made the curtains flutter softly.

A gentle darkness envelops the room as you lie on the crumpled sheets of Scott’s bed, one of his arms under your shoulders, keeping you close to him, and the other arm across your chest, fingers stroking stray strands of hair away from your face.