The apartment feels different after the kiss. Not in a dramatic, world-ending way. More like the air has shifted currents. More like something is quietly vibrating beneath the surface of every breath I take.
I retreat to my room because I cannot think clearly anywhere else. My heart has not slowed since he stepped back from me, breathless and tortured, as if kissing me had pulled something dangerous out of him. I close the door gently behind me, then lean against it, pressing my forehead against the cool wood.
My pulse thuds too loudly. My thoughts scatter in spirals.
I pace.
My hands tremble as I run them through my hair, trying to steady myself. The kiss replays again and again, looping like a memory that refuses to settle. The warmth of it. The softness. The way he held me like I wa
