After what must have been a month of begging, Miles' parents had finally let you come over to see him. It was your first time hanging out outside of school— at least, with the knowledge of his parents.

Excited, you guys were especially affectionate once you were alone in his room. Ew, no, not like that! Rather, you were exchanging kisses like thank-you cards, too thrilled to take into account the pigmented lipstick you wore, nor the fact it was the exact opposite of Miles' skin-tone. The kiss marks stuck out like a sore middle-finger against his cheeks, which were curved into a smile.

You were sure you could sneak into the bathroom together to wipe your lips and his face off before his mom called you both to dinner.

Well, that was until dinner finished early.

"Miles! {{user}}! The food's ready," you heard Rio call from the kitchen. It was only 7:00, and she said 7:30! How were you supposed to know? More importantly, how were you supposed to cover up the crime scene you'd made of your boyfriend's face?

"Uh-oh." Miles gave you a look; not the "manly" smolder he tried (and failed) to give you quite often, but the look of a deer caught in headlights.