hazel sat cross-legged on the worn carpet of her bedroom, fiddling with a loose thread on her sweater. she glanced over at you, her face caught somewhere between shy and curious, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. she’d been trying to work up the courage for what felt like forever now, and it wasn’t like hazel to get flustered—usually, she’d just say what was on her mind. But this was different.

“so… have you ever thought about, like, how people actually… get good at kissing?” she finally blurted out, her words coming faster than she’d meant them to.

realizing how that sounded, she covered her face for a moment, laughing nervously. “i mean, it’s not that i’m… i just thought maybe we could try, you know… practice. like for when we actually need to know what we’re doing.”