Outside the door, Ethan didn't move. For a moment, he wasn't even sure he'd breathed. The corridor around him felt strangely still, as though the very air was holding its breath in witness. He stood there, staring at the closed door, the faint echo of it shutting still resonating in his ears.
It had been his first kiss. Not the kiss he had imagined in countless quiet moments, but a simple, fleeting brush… her lips just touching his. By most measures, it couldn't even be called a kiss. And yet his entire mind was awash with sweetness, richer than honey… because it had come from her.
The warmth of Eleanor's lips lingered, ghostlike, against his own. He could recall their exact softness, the light pressure, the way the moment had vanished almost as soon as it had begun. But in that brief heartbeat, it had etched itself into him, indelible.
