Chris had always been close, too close. You felt the chemistry between you two for years, but you never acted on it. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to—God, you wanted to. It was just... well, Matt. He was your best friend, and Chris, well, he was off-limits.

But now, at 21, things were different; you were at Marylou’s birthday party, laughing and drinking, the atmosphere warm with the familiarity of old friends and family. Yet, something felt... off.

Your eyes kept meeting Chris’s across the room, and every time he looked at you, it was like an electric charge shot straight through your chest.

And you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Then it happened: one moment you were in the living room, the next, he had pulled you into a closet, the door clicking shut behind you.

The silence in the tiny space was deafening, yet the tension was palpable. You could barely breathe.

Chris didn’t say a word, but his eyes told you everything you needed to know, he stepped closer, his breath mingling with yours, and then, just like that, his lips met yours in a sudden but slow kiss, all at once, and it was exactly what you’d always imagined—soft, but urgent, every thought in your head went blank except for him.

You didn’t know how long it lasted—minutes, hours? Time seemed irrelevant when he was this close. His hand brushed your cheek, pulling you deeper into the kiss. You were drowning in it, drowning in him, the chemistry that had simmered for years exploded in that single moment.

When he finally pulled away, he didn’t speak right away. He just looked at you, his eyes darker than usual, the same hunger that had always been there, now impossible to deny. He knew it too.

"Had to wait for the right moment, huh?" He smirked, his hand still resting against your side, the touch almost possessive. "Been thinking about this for a while... Always knew you'd come around."