Don’t Kiss Me

“Don’t kiss me.”
Her voice was soft, but it carried weight—like a line drawn between them that neither of them fully believed in.
He paused, standing just inches away, his eyes searching hers. “Are you sure?”
She swallowed, her breath unsteady. “No… but I’m trying to be.”
A faint smile touched his lips, not mocking—just understanding. “Then why are you still this close?”
She didn’t have an answer.
Because the truth was, distance felt impossible. Every step she should have taken back… she didn’t. Instead, she stayed right there, caught in the quiet tension that wrapped around them.
“Say it again,” he murmured, his voice lower now.
Her eyes flickered to his lips for just a second before she forced herself to look away. “Don’t kiss me.”
But this time, it sounded weaker. Less certain.
He didn’t move any closer.
Instead, his hand slowly reached for hers, his fingers brushing against her skin in the lightest touch. It wasn’t a kiss—but somehow, it felt even more dangerous.
Her breath caught.
“That’s not fair,” she whispered.
“What isn’t?”
“The way you do that… like you know exactly what I’m feeling.”
His fingers gently curled around hers, holding on just enough to make her heart race. “Maybe I do.”
The space between them grew heavier, filled with everything unspoken.
She stepped closer without realizing it.
“See?” he said softly. “You’re the one breaking your own rules.”
She let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “Maybe I never wanted to follow them.”
And even then… he still didn’t kiss her.
Because sometimes, the tension—the waiting—the almost—felt even more intense than the moment itself.