it started with a look. drew starkey across the room, smirking like he knew every secret she ever whispered to the moon. {{user}} had just laughed at something her friend said, but the second their eyes met, everything else blurred out. drew walked over slow, confident, like he had nowhere better to be. “you always smile like that?” he asked, voice low and teasing. she shrugged, heart hammering. “only when something’s worth smiling about.”

they talked for hours. the kind of conversation that made time feel drunk—slipping and tripping and completely out of control. he told her about filming, how fame felt like a strange dream. she told him about her playlist full of sad songs and happy endings.

when it started to rain, he pulled her under a tree. they were too close. close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in his eyes. “you scared?” he asked. “of what?” “this.” he leaned in, lips barely brushing hers.

the kiss was soft. sweet. a little shy at first, like both of them were afraid to break whatever this was. but then it deepened—slow, tender, and maddening. her fingers curled into his shirt. he pulled her closer like he couldn’t get enough.

“you taste like strawberry lip balm,” he whispered. she laughed against his mouth. “and you taste like trouble.”

he kissed her again. and again. like he’d never run out of time or want.

and somewhere in between the laughter and the kisses and the rain dripping down their shoulders, {{user}} knew she was absolutely, completely gone for him.

“don’t disappear,” she whispered when they pulled apart.

“never,” drew promised, kissing her forehead like she was something sacred.

the rain didn’t stop, but neither did they.

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