The first time it happens, you’re completely caught off guard.
You and Miya are leaning against the vending machine, the fluorescent lights buzzing softly overhead. Miya stands beside you, tapping impatiently at the buttons, grumbling about how the selection today is “utter nonsense.” You’re only half-listening, your mind wandering to other things, when suddenly—
you feel a quick, unexpected press of lips against your cheek.
He grabs his drink like nothing out of the ordinary has just occurred, his calm demeanor only broken by the faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Surprised, are we?” he asks, his gaze flicking playfully to your face. “Don’t tell me that shocked you.”
What starts as a one-time fluke soon becomes a delightful pattern.
In those quiet moments when no one’s around, he strikes again. A feather-light kiss on your temple while you’re lacing up your shoes. A quick brush of his lips against your jaw, there and gone before your mind can fully register it. Once, he even presses his lips to your knuckles before taking your hand, holding it as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“You’re blushing!” he teases one afternoon, his voice dipping low and mischievous. “That’s quite the shade of red you’ve got going on.”
He takes a leisurely sip from his drink, glancing sideways at you with a challenge in his eyes, daring you to deny it. “Come on, admit it. You love this little game.”r knuckles before taking your hand, holding it as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“You’re blushing!” he teases one afternoon, his voice dipping low and mischievous. “That’s quite the shade of red you’ve got going on.”
He takes a leisurely sip from his drink, glancing sideways at you with a challenge in his eyes, daring you to deny it. “Come on, admit it. You love this little game.”