The night air was heavy with tension.
Elena and Raven had been walking together after a late tutoring session, taking back alleys and side streets to avoid anyone who might be watching. The city lights flickered against the wet pavement from a light drizzle that had started, making the world look softer, quieter, almost like it belonged to them alone.
Raven stopped suddenly under a dim streetlamp. The glow outlined his sharp features, his dark eyes fixed on her.
"You're quiet," he said.
"I'm thinking," Elena replied, though her thoughts weren't about equations or school projects. They were about him — the way he looked at her, the way he made her feel like the world wasn't entirely dangerous, just… unpredictable.
"You're dangerous," he said suddenly, stepping closer.
She blinked. "Me?"
"Yes. Because you make me… not think straight."
Her heart skipped. Not because of fear, but because of something deeper, warmer. Something she didn't want to name out loud yet.
Raven's gaze dropped to her lips. For a moment, Elena thought he might speak, step back, disappear. But he didn't.
Instead, he reached out, brushing a strand of wet hair from her face. The contact was soft, tentative, but it sent a jolt straight through her chest.
"I shouldn't," he whispered.
"You don't have to," she said, her voice trembling just slightly. "Not if you don't want to."
"I do," he admitted.
Time seemed to slow. The drizzle softened around them, the city noises fading into nothing. Elena's breath hitched as Raven's hands cupped her face gently, his thumbs brushing her cheeks. She leaned into his touch without thinking, drawn by the pull she'd felt since the moment he first protected her.
And then, their lips met.
Not a soft, hesitant brush. Not a simple peck. But a slow, careful kiss — the kind that felt like an admission, like a promise, like everything unspoken between them finally finding a voice.
Elena's hands found his jacket, gripping tightly, as if grounding herself in the moment. Raven's hold was firm but gentle, protective, careful — like he was scared to let her go even for a second.
When they finally pulled back slightly, their foreheads rested together, and neither spoke. The city lights reflected in his eyes, and for the first time, Elena saw something entirely human there: vulnerability.
"You have no idea what you do to me," he murmured, almost to himself.
"You don't either," she whispered back, her lips still tingling from the kiss.
He smirked softly, a shadow of his usual cocky self. "Then we're even."
And for the first time, Elena didn't feel fear. Not about him, not about the gangs, not about Marco. For the first time, she felt like she could face whatever came next — as long as they faced it together.
The drizzle picked up again, but they didn't move. The world could wait.
Because this moment… this first kiss… it was theirs.
To be continued…