A story of us

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The day passed in a blur, but she felt his presence lingering in the back of her mind. It was ridiculous, really—how one night, one moment of letting her guard down, could shift something inside her. And yet, here she was, curled up on the couch again, staring at her phone like some lovesick teenager.

She debated sending him a text. Something casual. Something easy.

But before she could talk herself out of it, her phone buzzed.

Him: Hey. Busy?

A small smile played on her lips as she typed back.

Her: Not really. What's up?

Him: Feel like some company?

Her heart skipped a beat. It wasn't like they had made concrete plans, but she had hoped—just a little—that he'd reach out.

Her: Depends… Are you bringing snacks?

His reply came almost instantly.

Him: Obviously. I'm not a monster.

She chuckled, shaking her head.

Her: Fine. See you soon.

She put the phone down, exhaling slowly. This was different. She wasn't used to someone reaching out just because they wanted to see her. And she definitely wasn't used to the way she wanted to see him too.

The knock on her door came twenty minutes later, and when she opened it, he was standing there with a small bag of snacks in one hand and a mischievous smile on his lips.

"You actually brought snacks?" she asked, eyeing the bag.

"I'm a man of my word," he said, stepping inside. "Besides, I figured I needed some kind of bribe to get you to let me in."

She rolled her eyes but took the bag from him anyway. "You didn't need a bribe."

"Oh?" He arched a brow, his gaze lingering on her in that way that made her stomach flip. "Does that mean you actually wanted to see me?"

She hesitated for half a second too long, and his smirk deepened.

"Shut up," she muttered, turning toward the kitchen.

He laughed, following her. "I didn't say anything."

She pulled out a bag of chips and tossed it at him. "Here. Eat your bribe."

He caught it effortlessly, grinning. "Gladly."

They settled into the familiar rhythm they were starting to develop—her on one end of the couch, him on the other, feet tucked under her as he ripped open the bag of chips. The TV was on, but neither of them was really paying attention.

Instead, their conversation drifted, lazy and effortless, until somehow, the space between them had shrunk again.

At some point, his fingers brushed against hers when they both reached for the same snack. The touch was fleeting, but it sent a spark up her arm.

She swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of how close he was.

"You okay?" he asked, voice softer now.

She nodded, but he didn't look convinced. His gaze flickered to her lips for the briefest second before returning to her eyes.

Her pulse hammered.

She should move. Should look away. Should say something to break the moment.

But she didn't.

Instead, she stayed still as he slowly lifted a hand, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. His fingertips lingered just long enough for her to feel the warmth of them before he let his hand drop.

"Sorry," he murmured, but he didn't look sorry.

She licked her lips, her heart beating so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

"Don't be," she whispered.

His jaw tensed slightly, as if he was holding himself back. And maybe he was.

But then, ever so slowly, he leaned in.

She could stop this. She could pull away, make a joke, create distance again.

But she didn't want to.

So she let herself lean in too.

And when his lips finally met hers, soft and sure, she realized something.

She wasn't afraid anymore.

She wanted this.

She wanted him.

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His lips were warm, gentle at first—like he was testing the waters, giving her a chance to pull away. But she didn't. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, pressing into the kiss just enough to let him know she wasn't second-guessing this.

That was all it took.

His hand found her cheek, fingers grazing her jaw as he deepened the kiss, slow but deliberate. Her heart pounded in her chest, but it wasn't from nerves. It was from something else entirely—something unfamiliar but undeniably exhilarating.

When they finally broke apart, she kept her eyes closed for a second, as if savoring the moment. When she opened them, he was looking at her like she was something worth memorizing.

"Wow," he breathed, a small smile tugging at his lips.

She let out a soft laugh, a little breathless. "Yeah. Wow."

He brushed his thumb against her cheek before letting his hand drop. "I've been wanting to do that for a while," he admitted.

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

He grinned, shifting slightly so their knees were still touching. "Yeah. But I didn't want to rush you."

Something about that made her chest tighten—not in fear, but in the best way possible. He saw her. He understood that this wasn't easy for her. And he was willing to wait.

"I don't think you rushed anything," she said softly.

He studied her for a moment, as if making sure she really meant it. Then, with a satisfied nod, he leaned back against the couch, draping an arm over the backrest. "So, does this mean I can officially say I've won you over?"

She rolled her eyes but couldn't stop the smile from forming. "You're really pushing your luck."

"I like to think I'm persistent."

She chuckled, shaking her head. "You're something, that's for sure."

He reached for the bag of chips again, popping one into his mouth. "You know, I think this is my new favorite way to spend an evening."

"Oh yeah?" she teased. "Eating my snacks and stealing kisses?"

He grinned. "Exactly."

She laughed, shaking her head, but deep down, she knew the truth.

She liked this too. More than she wanted to admit.

The rest of the night was easy. They didn't talk about what had happened, but they didn't need to. The way he let his fingers brush against hers, the way she leaned against him slightly as they watched TV—it all spoke louder than words.

At some point, she must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, she was waking up to the sound of her phone vibrating on the coffee table.

Blinking groggily, she reached for it, only to realize she was still curled up against him. His arm was draped around her, his steady breathing warm against her hair.

Her heart did something strange in her chest.

She carefully grabbed her phone, silencing the notification before glancing at the time. It was late. Too late for him to head home now.

As if sensing her movement, he stirred slightly, his grip tightening just a little before loosening again. "Mmm," he mumbled, voice thick with sleep. "What time is it?"

"Almost two," she whispered.

He let out a sleepy sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. "Guess I'm staying over again, huh?"

She hesitated for half a second before nodding. "Yeah. I guess you are."

He smiled, eyes still half-lidded with sleep. "Good. I like waking up here."

Her breath hitched slightly, but before she could respond, he pulled her closer, tucking her against his chest.

And this time, she didn't fight it.

She let herself stay.

She let herself feel.

And for once, that didn't scare her at all.

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