Page 69 of Glitched Play

Every rule I've ever made exists for a reason.

I should step back.

I don't.

Instead, I lean forward.

Barely.

Giving her every opportunity to stop me.

She doesn't.

Her eyes flutter closed for half a second.

Then open again.

Still looking at me.

Still trusting me.

The distance between us disappears so gradually I don't realize it's gone until my lips meet hers.

The kiss is soft.

Tentative.

Nothing like the dramatic kisses movies insist people have.

It's a question.

One I've apparently been asking without knowing it.

She answers by kissing me back.

Just once.

Gentle and careful, our lips overlap, stringing together small kisses into a big one. She tastes like strawberries and cream.

The world stops.

I no longer hear the muffled beat of the music or conversations about the food or donations.

For one impossible heartbeat, there is no noise.

No systems demanding my attention.

Only her.

Only us.

I've spent my entire life searching for quiet. I never imagined I'd find it inside another person. Our lips part and I rest my forehead against hers as I chase a breath.

But reality returns all at once.

Employee.

Company.