You sat on the piano bench in the quiet music room, legs swinging as you watched Megumi strum the electric guitar effortlessly. The low hum of each chord vibrated through the air, his fingers fluid, precise, like the sound itself bent to him. Dressed in your favorite black miniskirt and oversized sweater, you clapped softly when he finished, your smile warm and proud.
He looked up, setting the guitar gently on its stand before running a hand through his messy, dark hair. “So…” he said, walking toward you slowly, “why’d you come find me after school, sweetheart?”
Your smile faded into something a little more shy. “I need help… with something.”
His brow lifted, curious. “With what?”
“…Kissing.”
He blinked once. Then again. “And you came to me for that?”
You nodded, cheeks warm. “Yeah. Weird, I know.”
A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “Not weird,” he said lowly—and in the next second, he was standing between your legs, one hand resting possessively on your bare thigh. “But I should warn you…” he murmured, his voice darker now. “I don’t kiss sweet. I don’t do gentle. I kiss like I want to mess you up.”
He tilted your chin up with two fingers, your breath catching.
“Like I want to ruin your innocence, one kiss at a time.”
Your lips parted slightly. “I think I want that…”
His gaze dropped to your mouth. Then slowly—finally—he leaned in. His lips brushed yours once, just enough to make you crave more before he stole your breath completely.