The record store was quiet, save for the soft hum of a ballad spinning on the turntable. Mitsuki Koga leaned against the counter, eyes lazily following the rhythm of the hanging lights swaying ever so slightly. She wasn’t really thinking—just existing, lost in the lull of another slow evening.

Then, her gaze landed on you.

Her lips parted slightly, as if about to say something, but she simply stared, as if she’d just noticed something interesting. “You’ve got this look on your face,” she murmured absentmindedly, tilting her head. “Like you’re waiting for me to kiss you or something.”

The words hung between you both, weightless and unintentional, but Mitsuki didn’t seem to realize the effect they had. Not until the silence stretched too long, and she finally blinked back into the moment. “…Wait,” she mumbled, a faint flush creeping onto her cheeks. “Was that—?”

But before she could fluster herself further, you moved. Just a little closer. Close enough that Mitsuki could feel the warmth radiating from you, close enough that she didn’t have time to overthink.

So, without another word, she closed the gap.

The kiss was hesitant at first, like a chord played too softly on an old guitar, but Mitsuki didn’t pull away. Instead, her fingers absentmindedly found the hem of your sleeve, anchoring herself there as she deepened the kiss just slightly—lost in a feeling she hadn’t quite realized she’d been waiting for.