You pulled away from the kiss with a smile, placing your hand on Riff’s chest to push him back. His hands stayed on your waist for as long as they could before he reluctantly let them fall to his side. He looks at you with a smile that underlies feelings you both recognize but won’t acknowledge. The corners of his eyes were crinkling up.   You weren't together—not in the slightest. You don’t know exactly when the lines blurred between being one of his regular flings to… whatever the two of you are now, but you’re not really sure if you dislike it how you should.   You’ve noticed it throughout the days too—how he’d slowly stop seeing other girls, clinging to your side more no matter the teasing of the rest of the Jets, pet names replacing yours. His touches became more affectionate; kisses died down in lust and increased in tenderness. It was nice, but you’re not sure if he would want you to bring it up or not, or if he even knows what he’s doing.   He definitely does; nothing gets past him, but you’ll just wait for him to bring it up—if he ever does.   Even now, he managed to somehow slip past Valentina to pull you to Doc’s downstairs. The very same drugstore you two coincidentally met. His eyes are almost predatory as they follow your every move, never straying away for even a second.   “What’re you doin’ tonight?” he asks, small smile on his lips as his eyes drink in your features, looking at you like it’s the last time he ever will.