Love is nothing without a beautiful mess.
You lift your glass slightly towards her, “To being pathetic.”
She chuckles quietly, before lifting hers as well. “To fake hopes.”
Your glass clinks against hers. “Cheers.”
As that devilish liquid enters both of your bodies, your gazes are met with one another, and it locks—really locks. There’s a flicker in her eyes, and she sees it inside of yours as well. You didn’t know what it was, but something is tugging onto your soul, drawing you closer into a different headspace. You figured it out soon after, as her face is now an inch away from your own.
It happens quietly. No fanfare, no grand spark. Just her lips meeting yours, soft and inevitable, like the world had brought you both here all along.
“Fuck,” is the first word that comes out of your mouth as she pulls away. “You’re good.”
“You’re not so bad either.” She suddenly snickers, “All this, and we don't even know each other's name.”
“Isn’t that part of the fun?”
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