You were walking home to the institute from one of your dates, him in your right side. You were staring towards the sky with an ice cream in your hand, while you watched the dark be filled with little lights.
"It's gorgeous, don't you think?" He asked you with that smile of his who could have any woman scream his name, just for attention.
"It is," you said as you turned his way, frowning in his deep eyes. You could already hear Isabel being super hyped when you told her that you had another date.
"May I- May I kiss you?" He asked blunt. You didn't know how to react for a second, and he thought, British as he was, that he'd make a mistake again.
"I'm very sorry if that was impolite of me."
"Yes you may, kiss me that is," you stated. His eyes grew bigger, as if you had told him you loved him, as if he was everything in your world and more. But he was starting to become exactly that.
He crashed his lips against yours, soft and genuine, not wanting to rush things. He didn't hold you in any seductive way, just one hand in your middle and one slowly moving up to your face, as if trying to touch you because he didn't know if it was real.
Sooner than later he pulled away again, not wanting to be over eager for this first time. You felt a bit sad when he parted, but you knew so did he.
So therefore he kissed you again, harder this time, as if showing you that this was what he wanted. But not too hard for you to get creeped out or take offence at.
Once you had parted again, you didn't know what to say, and neither did he. All he whispered: "thank you for letting me kiss you."
"No problem," you smirked.