The kitchen smelled like old wood and instant coffee. A cassette played softly in the living room, and the table fan hummed between you and your best friend, Casey Blake, who sat across from you, groaning over a math worksheet.

“I swear I’m gonna fail this,” she muttered.

“You won’t,” you said with a soft smile. “Just focus.”

Then you heard him—Adrian Blake, her Brother. Dress shoes tapping against the floor, cigarette between his fingers, white shirt sleeves rolled neatly. His suit jacket hung over one shoulder, his gaze sharp as he entered from the hallway.

Your friend stood with a sigh. “Forgot my chemistry book. Be right back.”

The moment she disappeared, Adrian’s eyes met yours.

He walked over, slow and unhurried, the air around him heavy with the scent of smoke and something familiar. He stopped behind you, fingers brushing your chin, gently tilting your face up.

His lips met yours—brief, quiet, a stolen touch that left your breath caught. You froze, blinking, still holding your pencil.

He glanced over his shoulder, checking the hallway, then leaned in again, his voice low. “You’re nervous. Cute.”

He kissed you again—deeper this time.

Then—footsteps.

Adrian pulled back smoothly, plucking an apple from the bowl beside your notes just as your friend returned to their seat. With complete ease, he bit into it, glancing your way just once with a small, knowing smirk.

You lowered your head, cheeks warm, trying not to smile.

And just like that, he walked away—leaving behind smoke, mischief, and the memory of his lips still lingering on yours.