It doesn’t happen on a schedule. Weeks pass. They are lying on a blanket in the campus arboretum, the late autumn light filtering through the leaves. Elara is reading a passage from her favorite book. Leo is watching her lips form the words, not the words themselves. She finishes, looks up, and for the first time, she doesn’t think. She just leans in. The kiss is clumsy, a little off-angle, and she nearly bumps his nose. They both pull back and laugh, breathless. “That was terrible,” she whispers, horrified and exhilarated. “No,” Leo says, his forehead against hers. “It was ours . That’s the only thing that matters.”
First times are often clumsy. Embrace the awkwardness. It doesn’t happen on a schedule