It’s been a week since that little fiasco occurred; he had trouble speaking to me for hours. I had to explain to him that I have this problem that whenever I get happy, I kiss the first person I see. It was the most unrealistic excuse of the century but he softened up and forgave me. After a week together, he finally got comfortable with which made me beyond happy. He would talk for minutes about the things he want to do in life, the things he wants to accomplish, and I sat there listening and embracing every word he said. One time, he even stopped and asked me if he sounded boring. I laughed lightly and ushered him to keep talking, that single gesture was enough to bring us closer together. Seven day was enough for me to know sweet details about him. I learned that I was his first, as soon as I heard him say that I literally jumped for joy and tried to give him a kiss which he avoided.

We talked about our likes and dislikes, our hates and loves, our own worlds that only we understood. I didn’t even knew that we have so much in common. I learned that he loves watching movies ten years older than us, I learned that his favourite composer was Chopin, and I also learned that he loves to run which was unexpected for a person who sits and read all day. After those days, we were practically inseparable.

“If I get this question correct, will you give me a kiss?” I pouted as I sprawled on his bed with a book on my lap.

He sighed and spun around from hi