I have been unconsciously touching my lips since a while. Oh! I am so stupid. It's not it was our first kiss yet, I feel all giddy. Well, every single kiss with him does feels like it's our first kiss.
Tristan nudges me breaking my daydreaming more like night dreaming. I smile at him with a sheepish grin. We're at the rooftop of a bar. There's a firework show tonight. We arrived here a while ago from the beach and are standing against the railing while Tristan is staring at me with his most beautiful smile.
Tristan leans in, brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers linger for a second longer than they need to, and I feel my heart do that ridiculous flutter thing again. "You're zoning out," he says, his voice soft but teasing. "What's going on in that head of yours?"
I laugh nervously, glancing at him before turning my attention to the sky. "Nothing. Just... thinking."
"About?"
I hesitate, biting my lip. How do I even say it? That every time he looks at me like this, I feel like my chest might explode? That he makes me forget how to even speak? Instead, I point to the horizon. "It's starting...the fireworks", I almost stutter.
The first burst of color lights up the sky, and I swear I feel it in my chest—a deep rumble that matches the chaos in my mind. Tristan shifts closer, his arm brushing against mine. I blush.
"They're beautiful," I say, keeping my eyes on the sky, though I can feel his gaze on me.
"Yeah," he replies after a moment, and when I glance over, he's still looking at me.
I nudge him with my elbow, trying to break the tension. "You're supposed to be watching the fireworks."
"I am," he says with an enchanting smile, and again my cute but extremely sexy boyfriend made me blush.
The next firework bursts into a cascade of gold and red, and I try to focus on it, but it's hard when he's standing so close, his warm breath hit my cheeks against the cool night air. I lean into the railing, trying to calm my racing heart, and wonder if he can hear it over the noise of the fireworks.
The fireworks finally fade, leaving the night quiet again. Tristan stretches, his shirt riding up just enough to give me a glimpse of his toned stomach. I quickly look away, feeling my face heat up.
"Ready to head inside?" he asks, his voice light.
I nod, grateful for the distraction. "Let's get a drink. It's freezing out here."
We make our way down to the bar, where the music is low and the lights are dim—a stark contrast to the vibrant chaos of the rooftop. Tristan orders us a couple of cocktails, something fruity and deceptively strong, and we settle on a table of two away in the corner.
"You're gonna love this," he says, sliding a glass over to me.
I take a sip, the sweet and tangy flavors masking the burn of the alcohol. "Okay, this is actually good but too tangy", I cough.
He laughs staring at my confused look.
Time passes too quickly around Tristan. I don't even realise when one drink turns into two, then three, and by the time we're laughing over some ridiculous story he's telling about his high school days, I'm feeling the warm buzz of the alcohol coursing through me.
"You're such a lightweight," he teases, leaning across the table, my heart is beating too fast. He's not even that close but I guess his gaze does more than enough.
"Says the guy who's blushing more than I am," I fire back, reaching out to poke his cheek trying to control my heart which is about to jump out of my chest. He catches my hand, holding it in his, and the playful atmosphere shifts. He kisses my fingers and I can feel the warmth reaching my cheeks. His lips are warm just like him.
His lips traces my cold fingers, reaching my thumb and my palm now, and I feel my breath hitch. The bar seems to fade around us, the music and chatter dissolving into background noise.
"Come here," he says softly, before he hooks his foot around the leg of my chair and pulls it closer, toward him.
"I've been wanting to do this since we came from the beach."
And then his lips are on mine—warm, insistent, tasting faintly of the cocktail we'd been sharing. It's intoxicating, more so than the drinks, and I can't help but melt into him.
His hands trace slow, deliberate paths down my back, making my skin burning hot wherever he touch. I tangle my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, and the kiss deepens, leaving no room for hesitation or doubt. I have never been this brave maybe it's the effect of the alcohol. Who knows? Or maybe I have always wanted to do this.
We pull apart just long enough to catch our breath, and he presses his forehead to mine, his voice low and rough. "Let's get out of here."