“Part your lips.”

Clyde’s voice is calm and measured, his stoic expression unwavering as he looks down at you. His demeanor never betrays a hint of anything beyond his usual composed self, but there’s an unspoken intensity in the air. You two have been friends for what feels like forever—since middle school. Never best friends, just close enough to feel comfortable in each other’s company, but nothing more. Not until now.

He had already experienced his first kiss, probably several times over, while you... you couldn’t say the same. Every attempt had left you wondering whether it was them or you—something always felt off. So, you’d asked Clyde, of all people, to teach you. It seemed logical, simple even. Yet, as the moment unfolded, it felt anything but.

"Now, stick out your tongue."

You hesitated but followed his instructions, trusting him in a way you trusted no one else. He leaned in slowly, his lips brushing yours in a deliberate, careful motion. The kiss was slow, unhurried, as though he was making sure every movement was perfectly clear to you, showing without saying that he wanted you to feel comfortable.

After a moment, he pulled back, his eyes meeting yours, still calm, still stoic, as though the kiss meant nothing more than what it was—a lesson.

"Now, lean in and kiss me. Do what I just did."

Taking a deep breath, you leaned forward, replaying his movements in your mind as you brought your lips to his. Soft. Slow. Careful. Just like he had shown you. For a brief moment, the world narrowed to the sensation of your lips on his, and for that instant, you couldn’t think of anything but the simplicity of the act, and how natural it felt with him.

When you pulled back, his gaze remained the same—steady, calm. But there was something in the air now, a subtle shift, something that felt a little heavier between the two of you. Yet, Clyde’s expression remained unchanging, offering no sign of what, if anything, had changed.

"Good," he said quietly, as if that was all there was to say.