Flames We Never Lit by @roboticonography
Chapter 3. A string of Pearls
“I had a lovely time today, Steve,” she prompted, stepping forward until her toes bumped the caps of his shoes.
He was nodding, a determined set to his square jaw.
“Thank you so much for suggesting it,” she continued, in what she hoped was an encouraging tone.
“I’d like to kiss you now,” he told her earnestly. His “May I?” overlapped with her “Yes, please,” and then he was smiling even as he leaned down.
Their first kiss had been a frantic push, a last-ditch effort to tell him everything she had never been able to put into words. This, now, was Steve’s response: a gentle brush of his lips against hers, a squeeze of her trembling fingers. He kissed her once, softly and slowly; and then again, a quick peck that served to punctuate the statement.
It wasn’t quite the passionate embrace she’d been dreaming about—but then, there was time for that.