Hughie Biggs had been sitting on Patrick’s floor for twenty minutes, saying absolutely nothing.

Which, for Hughie, was deeply unnatural.

Patrick noticed. Eventually.

“…Alright,” he said, lowering his headphones around his neck. “You’ve either committed a crime or kissed her. Which one is it?”

Hughie didn’t even look up. “I kissed her.”

Patrick paused. “Okay. So not a crime, then. Good start.”

Hughie let out a slow breath, dragging his hands through his hair. “No, you don’t get it.”

Patrick smirked slightly. “I’m starting to think I do.”

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that,” Hughie said, finally glancing up. His expression was somewhere between dazed and panicked. “I had a whole plan, you know? Like—if it ever happened.”

“Oh, I’m sure you did,” Patrick said.

Hughie ignored that. “It was meant to be… I don’t know. Perfect. Not—random.”

Patrick leaned back against his bed. “So what actually happened?”

Hughie swallowed, replaying it again. “We were walking home. It was late. And she was talking about her book—and then she just stopped.”

“And?”

“And she said my name,” Hughie went on quietly. “Not like normal. Like… softer.”

Patrick’s smirk faded just a bit. “Right.”

“And then she stepped really close,” Hughie said, his voice dropping.

Patrick watched him now, properly listening.

“And then she kissed me,” Hughie finished.

There was a small pause.

“…And you’re upset about this because?” Patrick asked.

Hughie let out a frustrated sound. “Because I didn’t do anything.”

Patrick blinked. “You kissed her back, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but—late,” Hughie said. “She leaned in first. She started it. I just… froze. For like—half a second. Maybe a full second. That’s ages in kiss time, Patrick.”

Patrick stared at him. “Kiss time?”

“You know what I mean!” Hughie snapped. “What if she noticed? What if she thinks I didn’t want it?”

“…Did you?” Patrick asked.

“Obviously I did!” Hughie said, horrified. “It’s {{user}}.”

Patrick stared at him for a second, then shook his head. “I’m struggling to see the issue.”

Hughie stood up suddenly, pacing again. “I was supposed to be the one who made it happen. I was supposed to say something first.”

“What happened after the kiss?” Patrick asked.

Hughie hesitated. “We kind of just… stood there.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know. A few seconds.” Hughie rubbed the back of his neck. “She was still close. Like she was waiting.”

“For what?”

Hughie looked at him helplessly. “I don’t know. For me to say something, probably. And I didn’t.”

Patrick winced slightly. “Ah.”

“Yeah,” Hughie muttered. “Exactly.”

“So what did you do?”

“I said, ‘Uh… goodnight,’” Hughie admitted.

Patrick let out a disbelieving laugh. “You said goodnight?”

“I panicked!” Hughie defended. “What was I supposed to say?!”

“I don’t know, maybe literally anything else,” Patrick said. “Like, ‘I’ve been in love with you for years,’ comes to mind.”

Hughie dropped back onto the floor, leaning against the bed. “You’re not helping.”

Patrick tossed the wrapper aside and sat forward. “Alright, listen. Did she seem upset?”

Hughie hesitated. “…No.”

“Did she look like she regretted it?”

“…No.”

“Did she punch you in the face?”

“Patrick—”

“I’m building a case here,” Patrick said. “Work with me.”

Hughie sighed, running a hand through his hair. “She just looked… I don’t know. Soft, I guess. Like she meant it.”

Patrick’s expression shifted, just slightly. “Then she probably did.”

Hughie glanced up at him. “Then why didn’t she say anything?”

”You said goodnight, Hugh. Not much to say after that.” Patrick argued.

Hughie released a groan and dropped his face into his hands. “I fucked it up.”

Patrick shook his head. “You didn’t fuck it up. You were nervous. So was she, clearly. That’s normal.”

Hughie picked at the sleeve of his hoodie again. “What if she’s waiting for me to say something?”

“Then say something,” Patrick said simply.

Hughie looked up, panic flickering again. “Like what?”