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kyrsse · 7 months ago

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Heartstrings

୧⍤⃝ summary: The popular girl's life turned upside down when a charming skateboarder entered the picture. Things got even more chaotic as she navigates first crushes, secret dates, and the trials of teenage life. ୧⍤⃝ tags: Romance, Comedy, High School AU, First Kiss, High School romance, Skateboarder Rafayel, Popular Mc, Daddy sylusss rahhh! ୧⍤⃝ notes: I Accidentally bumped into an 'old friend', which made me reminisce and decided to turn it into a story. This was rushed so sorry for the mistakes. I decided to give mc a name but still wanted the mc to be there so I made it to Mckenzie. MC is her nn but it's still pronounced as em-cee cause mick is just ugly.

I was a top student, and performing music with my band was my absolute favorite part of school. I loved belting out our favorite tunes at every monthly event.

I seemed to have it all: good grades, decent looks (or so I was told), a bit of local fame, and a talent for music. But there was a boyfriend-shaped hole in my life. Not that I was desperate, mind you. I wasn’t some love-starved maniac. I received a mountain of chocolates and flowers every Valentine’s Day (and even on random Tuesdays), but my strict parents had a “no dating until you’re practically married” policy. Plus, honestly, no one had really caught my eye. Disappointing my parents was also a major deterrent. I was content with my friends… or so I thought.

Then Friendship Day loomed on the horizon. The day before the big event, my bandmates and I were scrambling to finalize our setlist. Why the last-minute rush? Well, we’d been swamped all month. You can’t blame us for being busy, right?

“Hey, how about we play ‘Every Summertime’? It’s got that high school nostalgia vibe,” Tara, our rhythm guitarist, suggested.

“Tara, they were eighteen and undergrads in the song, they already graduated high school” Xavier, our ever-practical keyboardist, pointed out.

“Let’s play it anyway” Simone, our drummer, declared, effectively ending the debate. We used to have a bass player, but his mom had recently banned him from performing. Talk about a buzzkill.

“Okay, ‘Every Summertime’ it is,” I conceded. “But we still need to choose five more songs and rehearse them. And remember, IT’S TOMORROW, PEOPLE!” I reminded them, feeling a wave of stress wash over me. I still had three quizzes to study for, and I’d barely cracked open the books for two of them.

We rehearsed all day, and by the end, I was exhausted. After practice, I crashed at Tara’s house. My strict parents somehow allowed sleepovers, mainly because Tara’s house was literally next door. Walking ten extra steps to my own house seemed like an insurmountable obstacle at that point. We watched some cheesy movies until we both drifted off.

The next day, the day of the performance, I was a nervous wreck. I hadn’t had much time to practice the guitar solo, and I was praying my hands wouldn’t turn into sweaty, trembling messes. As I plugged in my guitar, I peeked through the curtains at the audience. My eyes widened. Every single senior high student was there. Oh, great. Usually, we performed for only half the student body at a time. This was a whole new level of pressure.

When our band was announced, I took a deep breath and stepped into the spotlight. We launched into our first song, trying to project an air of cool confidence. As I sang, my eyes scanned the crowd, and I noticed him. A guy with vibrant purple hair was staring directly at me. I was used to people watching us perform, but this was different. His gaze felt… different. My fingers faltered on the fretboard, and my voice wavered. My bandmates exchanged confused glances. Tara started singing my part, while Simone whispered, “Hey, Mc, what’s wrong?”

I snapped back to attention, forcing myself to focus. Pull it together, Mckenzie! I mentally scolded myself. This was even more embarrassing than my first-ever performance. As I continued singing, I couldn’t help but notice the purple-haired guy smile. Stop it, I thought, my heart pounding in my chest. Throughout the entire performance, I was acutely aware of his eyes on me. I tried not to look at him, but I couldn’t resist sneaking glances. I was practically trembling, but I was determined to maintain a professional facade.

When our last song ended, I practically sprinted backstage, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The loud music from the speakers outside seemed to amplify my racing heart. He had looked so… ethereal under the stage lights. The colored lights played across his face, and the top two buttons of his polo shirt were undone, his tie loosened just enough to make him look… GAWD, Macy, get a grip! I berated myself.

While I was busy trying to calm down, my bandmates rushed in, their faces etched with concern. Xavier patted me on the back, while Simone fetched me some water. Tara bombarded me with questions and gave me my inhaler, but my mind was still replaying the image of the purple-haired guy. A small, involuntary smile crept onto my lips. Was this what a crush felt like? It was a completely new sensation. The only boys I’d ever “admired” before were cartoon characters like Robin from Teen Titans Go! or Terence from Tinkerbell.

Tara, noticing my dreamy expression, stepped back, her expression unamused. “Girl,” she said, her voice flat. “Are you high?”

🐚

The next morning, I hopped out of my dad’s car, waved goodbye, slung my bag over my shoulder, and started the familiar trek towards my classroom. However, as I approached the elevators, I froze. Leaning against the wall, looking impossibly cool, was him—the purple-haired guy from last night’s performance. And beside him, chatting amicably, was Zayne. Zayne. Campus heartthrob, former next-door neighbor, and the boy I’d played pretend-wedding with when we were kids. The memory made me cringe. I’d been so mortified by the childhood antics that I’d mostly avoided him as we got older, limiting our interactions to awkward “hi’s” and “hello’s.”

Seeing them together sent a wave of panic through me. I considered a quick detour to the stairwell. Five flights of stairs were preferable to facing that combination. But as I began to veer off course, Zayne spotted me.

“McKenzie,” he called out, his voice warm and familiar.

I froze mid-stride, my back to them, pretending I hadn’t heard. I waited for him to say something else, hoping against hope that he'd just let me escape.

“McKenzie, why don’t you take the elevator?” he continued. “The fifth floor is a very long walk.”

I reluctantly turned around, plastering a polite smile on my face. I avoided looking at the purple-haired guy, focusing instead on Zayne. “It’s okay,” I said, my voice a little higher than usual. “I always take the stairs. It’s good exercise.”

“You never take the stairs because of your asthma, though,” Zayne countered, raising an eyebrow. “Unless you want to be carried to the clinic the moment you reach your classroom?”

“My asthma is not that severe.” I sighed. But he kinda does have a point, I even saw other kids breathing heavily when reaching their designated floors even if they didn't have one. Defeated, I walked over to them, keeping a respectable distance. The elevator doors opened, revealing a surprisingly crowded car. We squeezed in, and I immediately found myself pressed against several other students. Zayne’s purple-haired friend ended up directly behind me. I tried to subtly shift to a less… intimate position, but just then, someone else squeezed into the elevator, causing me to stumble backward. Before I could crash into the purple-haired guy, he instinctively reached out and steadied me, his hand briefly resting on my back. “Careful there,” he murmured, a faint smile playing on his lips. I avoided eye contact, my cheeks burning.

“T-thanks,” I stammered, my voice barely audible.

When the elevator finally reached the fifth floor, I practically bolted out, eager to escape the close quarters and the intense gaze of the purple-haired guy. But to my surprise, Zayne and his friend followed me. I stopped, turning to face them, confusion written all over my face. “Isn’t your classroom on the seventh floor?” I asked. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We’re not following you,” Zayne said, a playful glint in his eyes. “We’re just going to visit an old friend.” He then turned and walked down a hallway in the opposite direction of my classroom.

I stood there, completely bewildered. Before they disappeared around the corner, the purple-haired guy turned back, winked at me, and gave me a mischievous smirk. My face erupted in a fresh wave of heat. I could practically feel the blood rushing to my cheeks.

As they disappeared from sight, I let out a long, dramatic sigh. “How many times have I embarrassed myself already?” I muttered to myself, feeling a wave of mortification wash over me. I wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. Maybe I should just transfer schools. Or move to another country. Or perhaps fake my own death. Stop M, you’re overreacting. Stay cool.

🐚

After class, I gathered my things, grabbed my jacket and wallet, and headed out to meet my friends for our usual post-class snack run to the cafeteria. I found Tara waiting by the lockers, and we started walking towards Simone and Xavier’s classroom. As we passed the elevators, I noticed the doors closing. And through the narrow gap, I caught a glimpse of… him. Zayne’s purple-haired friend. Again. Why was I suddenly seeing him everywhere? I hadn’t even noticed him around campus in the past few months. It was starting to feel a little… targeted.

A wave of unexpected anxiety washed over me, tightening my chest. I instinctively reached into my bag for my inhaler and took a quick puff. Tara looked at me, her brow furrowed with concern. “Hey, what’s wrong? You haven’t needed that much lately,” she said, gently patting me on the back. The physical contact helped calm me down a bit.

I gave her a weak smile, then a playful frown tugged at my lips. “Tara,” I began hesitantly, “I think I might have a little… crush.”

Tara’s eyes widened, and she let out a squeal of excitement, jumping up and down. “Omg! Who is the lucky girl?!” she exclaimed, grabbing my shoulders and looking at me expectantly.

I blinked, momentarily thrown off. “Huh? It’s not a girl,” I said, confusion evident in my voice. “I thought you liked girls, since you always reject all the guys who ask you out.” I chuckled lightly.

Tara’s excitement faltered for a second, then returned with even more intensity. “Ooooh! Spill the tea!” she demanded, practically dragging me along the hallway as I recounted the details of my brief encounters with the mysterious purple-haired guy.

We finally reached Simone and Xavier’s classroom, and after a quick greeting, we all headed to the cafeteria. As we sat down at our usual table, I felt a familiar prickling sensation at the back of my neck. I looked up, and there he was. Again. How did he keep appearing wherever I went? His purple hair was like a beacon in the crowded room. He was already looking at me, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

Simone, ever observant, noticed my gaze and followed it to its target. Her expression immediately turned disapproving. “You might not want to get involved with that one, Mc,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. “I thought you had standards.”

Xavier, sensing the change in atmosphere, scooted closer to me, placing a comforting hand on my arm. “Yeah,” he agreed, “I heard he doesn’t take his studies seriously. By the way, what score did you get on the history test?” he asked, smoothly changing the subject.

“Only two mistakes,” I replied, still distracted. “I forgot to read the instructions properly.” I rested my head on the table with a groan.

As I did, I saw Zayne and the purple-haired guy stand up and walk away. They were heading towards the exit. Just before they disappeared from view, the purple-haired guy turned back and gave me another wink, sending a fresh wave of heat rushing to my face.

“Oh, guys, let her be,” Tara said, defending me, “It’s not every day she crushes on someone.”

“Yeah, Xavier, let her be,” Simone teased, echoing Tara’s words.

“Hey,” Xavier protested, his cheeks flushing slightly. “You were against it too, just a minute ago.”

I lifted my head from the table, feeling a little less mortified and a little more amused. It seemed my friends were just as confused about this whole situation as I was. But one thing was certain: this purple-haired guy was definitely making my life a lot more… interesting.

🐚

School was finally over, and the sweet relief of freedom washed over me. Xavier invited me to our usual post-school hangout at the nearby café. But today, exhaustion weighed heavily on me. The whirlwind of emotions from the past few days, coupled with the pressure of the performance and the lingering image of him, had taken its toll. I politely declined, promising to catch up with them later.

I found a quiet corner near the school entrance, sinking gratefully into a vacant chair to wait for my ride. I pulled out my phone, scrolling mindlessly through social media, trying to distract myself from the lingering thoughts of purple hair and mischievous smirks.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed with a new message. I glanced down and saw it was from my dad.

'Sorry sweetheart, Daddy won't be able to pick you up today. I'll send Luke and Kieran to pick you up. Love you lots sweetie, take care.'

A groan escaped my lips. Just my luck. Of all the days I actually wanted to go straight home and collapse into bed, my usual ride was unavailable. Luke and Kieran were my older brothers, and while I loved them, their definition of "picking me up" usually involved loud music which I love but the three of us have different tastes. Luke was a metalhead, while Kieran was an NWJNS enthusiast. The car rides were always a chaotic symphony of their earsplitting singing skills they got from Dad and a general air of chaotic energy. It was definitely not the relaxing end to the day I’d envisioned.

I sighed, shoving my phone back into my bag. Well, there was nothing to be done about it. I might as well prepare myself for the inevitable onslaught of brotherly teasing and questionable music choices. I leaned back in the chair, closing my eyes for a moment, hoping the wait wouldn't be too long. Maybe if I was lucky, they'd be running late enough that I could catch a few precious minutes of peace. But knowing my brothers, that was highly unlikely. They were probably already circling the school like a pair of overenthusiastic vultures, ready to swoop in and whisk me away on their latest adventure. I just hoped I'd survive the experience.

I heard footsteps approaching and slowly opened my eyes. It wasn't my brothers. It was him. No longer a fleeting glimpse from afar, he was standing right in front of me. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. I fumbled in my bag for my inhaler, my hands shaking slightly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, Ms. Singer,” he said, a charming smile gracing his lips. He was holding a skateboard, casually tucked under his arm. “Is this seat beside you taken?”

“No,” I managed to say, trying to sound nonchalant, though my heart was betraying me with its frantic rhythm. “And don’t call me that.” I turned my attention back to my phone, feigning disinterest.

“Why not? Weren’t you the one who performed a few days ago? You’re also the lead guitarist, if I’m not wrong?” he persisted. I stubbornly refused to look at him, my palms starting to sweat. My whole body was buzzing with nervous energy.

He reached out and gently took my phone, turning it off and placing it back in my bag. “Miss, isn’t it rude to use your phone while talking to someone?” he teased, his eyes twinkling.

“I’m not talking to you,” I mumbled, still refusing to meet his gaze.

“You are now.” He then extended his hand towards me. “I’m Rafayel.”

“I’m…” I hesitated, finally looking up at him. I reluctantly reached out and placed my hand in his. But instead of a handshake, he gently took my hand and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it. “McKenzie, I know,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “I’ve had my eye on you for a very long time now.”

My cheeks flushed crimson, and I was momentarily speechless. This was… unexpected.

“I finally held your hand,”

he said, his smile widening, and I felt my insides melt. Gawd, that smile is going to be the death of me.

“I… You! You’re so… Ugh!” I sputtered, finally finding my voice. “You can’t just do that!” I pulled my hand away, feeling a mix of embarrassment and… something else. Something I couldn't quite name. “Plus,” I continued, “are you stalking me? You suddenly keep appearing after that night. I’ve never seen you around campus before.”

He straightened up, leaning back against the chair, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m not stalking you,” he said. “You just never noticed me.” He paused, then added, “The painting I sent you a few months ago… did you like it?”

My eyes widened in surprise. “Oh my gosh, you sent that?” I gasped. “I loved it! It’s so beautiful. Did you make it?”

“No, I bought it,” he said, a perfectly deadpan expression on his face.

“Oh,” I said, my initial enthusiasm deflating slightly. “Well, thanks for the gift anyway.”

He scratched the back of his head, a sheepish look replacing his earlier playfulness. “I… I painted it,” he confessed. “I’m glad you liked it. I’m still pretty new to art, though, so I’m not that good.”

“What are you talking about?” I exclaimed, my surprise turning into genuine admiration. “I… I’d love to see your other paintings. They’re amazing.” I quickly looked away, trying to hide the blush creeping up my neck.

His own cheeks flushed a light pink. “Uh… I, uh… sure,” he stammered, his usual confidence momentarily faltering.

Just then, I heard a distant yell. It was my brothers. “Mc! Stop flirting and come here!” Luke's voice boomed across the parking lot.

My face turned red from embarrassment, “Sorry, I have to go now,” I said, quickly gathering my things. “It was nice talking to you… Rafayel.” I gave him a quick, awkward goodbye and practically sprinted towards the approaching car.

“Wait! You forgot your jacket!” he shouted after me, but I was already halfway across the parking lot. Oh well, he thought, a small smile playing on his lips. At least he finally had a reason to talk to you tomorrow.

I scrambled into the back seat of the car, slamming the door shut behind me. The twins, Luke and Kieran, were already inside, their faces plastered with matching smirks that could only mean trouble.

“I’m telling Dad,” Kieran announced, his eyes gleaming with mischievous delight.

“No way, I’ll tell him first!” Luke countered, elbowing Kieran in the ribs.

“Guys, seriously,” I groaned, rolling my eyes. “He’s just a new friend. You know I don’t have time for romance.” I pulled out my phone, pretending to be engrossed in something fascinating to avoid their scrutinizing gazes.

“Oh really?” Luke said, his smirk widening. “I saw the way you two were looking at each other, though. Hey, hey, hey, look at me if you’re telling the truth.” He reached across the back seat and gently cupped my chin in his hand, forcing me to meet his eyes.

I tried to maintain a serious expression, but the sight of Luke’s exaggeratedly suspicious face was too much. A giggle escaped my lips, quickly escalating into a full-blown chuckle.

“See!” Luke yelled triumphantly, dropping his hand from my chin.

"Bro , how can I not laugh when your face looks like that." I chuckled

I burst out laughing again, wiping a tear from my eye. Luke playfully shoved Kieran, who retaliated with a gentle punch to his arm.

“Yeah, bro,” Kieran continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Even I would laugh, bro. Bro, start the engine. Dad is gonna be mad at us, bro.” He punctuated his sentence with another playful nudge to Luke.

I glared at Kieran, thoroughly annoyed by his incessant “bro” usage, and lightly smacked his arm. “Just start the car already,” I said, trying to suppress another giggle. The whole situation was ridiculous, but I couldn’t deny the flutter of excitement I felt at the thought of Rafayel. Even my brothers’ teasing couldn’t completely dampen my spirits.

🐚

The next day, I gave my dad the usual goodbye kiss and hopped out of the car. As I turned to walk towards the school entrance, I heard the familiar rolling sound of a skateboard. My heart immediately did a little skip, and I knew exactly who it was. I turned around to confirm my suspicions, and there he was: Rafayel. He looked effortlessly cool as he skated, the wind tousling his dark purple hair. It was like a scene from a movie, and I suddenly felt very self-conscious about my own decidedly un-cinematic appearance.

He smoothly stopped right in front of me, holding up his skateboard to prevent it from rolling away.

“You know you could crush my feet with that, right?” I said, trying to sound nonchalant as I started walking towards the school. He fell into step beside me, matching my pace.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t,” he replied, a playful glint in his eyes. “As much as I’d love to carry you to the clinic,” he added with a wink, “I wouldn’t want you getting hurt because of me.” Gosh, he always finds a way to flirt, doesn’t he? I thought, desperately trying to keep my heart rate under control.

“You should stop that,” I said, attempting to hide the blush that was creeping up my neck. “I’m not interested in you.”

He just smirked. “Then why is your face red? Did you eat hot sauce for breakfast?”

I rolled my eyes. “Gosh, you’re so annoying,” I muttered, picking up my pace slightly. He easily kept up with me.

Then, he said something that made me stop dead in my tracks. “Will you give me a chance, though?” His voice was suddenly serious, the playful tone gone. “I know I’m not like those guys you see at your fancy parties, but I know I could make you happy. I’m serious about you, McKenzie.”

He stepped closer, gently taking my jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders. “You forgot this yesterday,” he said softly. “Wear it so you don’t get a cold.” He paused, his gaze meeting mine. “I’ll be waiting for your answer. Take your time. I’m not rushing you, but please… think about it. I really do like you.” With that, he hopped back onto his skateboard and smoothly skated away, leaving me standing there, completely stunned.

I watched him go, my hand instinctively going to the jacket he’d just placed around me. It still held a faint warmth from his touch. My cheeks were burning, and my heart was doing a crazy little dance in my chest.

I looked around, making sure no one was watching, then whispered to myself, a small smile playing on my lips, “Gosh, McKenzie, a little secret wouldn’t hurt, right?” The thought of keeping this unexpected development to myself, at least for a little while, was strangely exciting.

Rafayel and I started hanging out more often. It was… nice. He was funny, charming, and surprisingly thoughtful. My friends were incredibly supportive, which was a huge relief. Even my brothers, after their initial teasing, seemed to approve. They’d even covered for me once when Dad almost caught us sharing an ice cream cone last week. It was a close call, but a well-timed threat about revealing the mysterious scratches on Dad’s brand-new car kept them silent.

My late-night returns home, however, were starting to raise some eyebrows. Dad was becoming suspicious, but I managed to deflect his questions by claiming I was at Simone’s place for extra practice. A big school event was coming up, so it wasn’t entirely a lie. And thankfully, he seemed to buy it.

One evening, as I was giving Dad my usual “I’m going to Simone’s” spiel, Luke chimed in, “Yeah, Dad, don’t worry,” he said, giving me a wink. “We always pick her up, so she’s safe.”

Sylus, however, narrowed his eyes, a flicker of suspicion in his gaze. “Hmm,” he said, his voice low and serious. “Make sure the three of you are telling the truth. You know the deal sweetie, no boys until you finish studying.” His words hung in the air, making me incredibly nervous. It felt like I was walking a tightrope.

I forced a laugh, trying to appear nonchalant. “Yes, Dad,” I said. “Plus, if I did have a boyfriend, the twins would have already told you by now. You know how big their mouths are.” I shot a playful glare at Luke and Kieran, hoping they’d pick up on the subtle cue.

The twins, however, were not amused. They exchanged a look that clearly said, This is how you repay us after we saved your skin? After we risked Dad’s wrath and the potential grounding of the century? Their expressions were a mix of betrayal and wounded pride, like I’d just publicly announced their deepest, darkest secrets. Luke even mouthed, "We are hurt." while Kieran dramatically clutched his chest. I stifled a giggle. They were so dramatic. I knew they were just teasing, but I also knew I owed them big time. I'd have to make it up to them somehow. Maybe with extra-large milkshakes. Or by finally agreeing to listen to their music – for at least five minutes. Maybe.

🐚

I arrived at the skate park and immediately spotted Rafayel. The moment he saw me, his eyes widened, and a wide grin spread across his face. He rushed over and gave me a quick, light hug, which earned him twin daggers from Luke and Kieran, who were lurking nearby. “Not too close there, Eggplant,” Luke warned, his voice laced with mock menace. Rafayel pulled away, a slightly bewildered expression on his face at the new nickname.

“We’re going to that shop,” Kieran said, pointing to a store across the street. “Call us if you need anything.” With one last warning glare at Rafayel, they both walked off, leaving us alone.

Rafayel led me to a nearby bench and insisted I sit down. Then, to my surprise, he started helping me put on my protective gear. My heart did a little flutter at his attentiveness. “It’s okay, I can do it,” I said, reaching for the helmet.

“Nuh-uh,” he playfully countered, gently taking the helmet from my hands. “Gotta make sure this princess is safe.” He carefully placed it on my head, adjusting the straps. “Pink suits you,” he added with a wink, giving my cheek a light pinch. I couldn’t help but smile.

I stood up, placing one foot on the skateboard and giving it a tentative push. I immediately started wobbling precariously, and Rafayel quickly steadied me, preventing a potentially embarrassing fall.

The next few hours were… chaotic, to say the least. My screams and shouts echoed through the skate park as I attempted to master the art of skateboarding. My body was definitely going to be sore tomorrow. Rafayel was a patient and encouraging teacher, though, and despite the near-constant threat of face-planting, I actually had fun.

After our skating session, I told my brothers I was going to Rafayel’s house. This did not go over well.

“You can rest at our house,” Kieran protested, his arms crossed stubbornly. “No need to go to another man’s house.” He was clearly not thrilled with the idea.

“I’m sixteen, not six,” I retorted, rolling my eyes. “I can handle myself.”

“Sixteen, not eighteen,” Luke countered, placing his hands on his hips and adopting a stern, grandmotherly stance. He looked remarkably like a grumpy Grandma Josephine. “And even if you were eighteen, it’s still a no.”

I sighed in defeat. Arguing with them was like talking to a brick wall. Then, a brilliant idea struck me. “Guys,” I said, lowering my voice conspiratorially, “do you remember that old gun Dad got from that auction? The–”

Their eyes widened. They knew exactly what I was talking about. It was a prized possession of Dad's, and they’d both been strictly forbidden from even touching it.

“Fine, go,” Kieran blurted out, quickly changing his tune. But then he whirled around, pointing a warning finger at Rafayel, who was standing a few feet away, looking rather bewildered by the sudden shift in the conversation. Kieran then proceeded to make exaggerated punching motions towards Rafayel, mouthing the words “no touching.” Rafayel just stared back, his expression a mixture of confusion and amusement.

“Okay, bye! Love you guys!” I called out, quickly grabbing my bag and hurrying over to Rafayel, before my brothers could change their minds. I could practically feel their eyes boring into the back of my head as I walked away. This whole thing was getting complicated, but a small part of me enjoyed the thrill of keeping it a secret.

🐚

Rafayel opened his apartment door, and I stepped inside, immediately taking off my shoes and placing them by the shoe rack. “Make yourself at home,” he said, doing the same with his shoes. “Do you want something to eat or drink?”

“I’m good with anything,” I replied with a smile.

“Great. Turn on the TV and watch whatever you like. I’ll be with you in a bit,” he said, disappearing into his bedroom to change. I took off my jacket and settled onto the comfortable-looking couch, flipping through the channels to find something interesting. Rafayel returned a few minutes later, now wearing comfortable sweatpants and a t-shirt, and holding another one of his shirts in his hand. “Do you want to change?” he asked, holding it out to me. “Your clothes might be a bit uncomfortable. This is the smallest shirt I have.”

I felt a blush creep up my cheeks at the thought of wearing his clothes. “Oh, is it okay?” I asked, feeling a little hesitant.

He quickly avoided my gaze, his own cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. “Yeah, it’s fine,” he mumbled. “You can change in the bathroom if you like. There’s a mirror in there.” He then turned and headed into the kitchen, the sound of clanging pots and pans soon following.

I went into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I slipped off my own top and pulled on Rafayel’s. It was definitely oversized, swallowing me in its soft fabric. I inhaled deeply, catching a faint scent of his cologne. Another blush crept up my neck. I quickly checked my reflection in the mirror before heading back to the living room.

Rafayel was just finishing up in the kitchen when I returned. He turned as I sat back down on the sofa, handing me a steaming bowl of noodles. “Looks good on you,” he said, still avoiding eye contact.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, feeling my cheeks warm again.

We settled into a comfortable silence, eating our noodles and watching the movie. The next few hours were filled with laughter and easy conversation. I noticed Rafayel subtly scooting closer to me on the couch, or pretending to be startled by a jump scare in the movie, which inevitably resulted in him clinging to my arm. I didn’t mind at all. In fact, I kind of liked it. Before I knew it, we were practically nestled in each other’s arms, neither of us wanting to break the comfortable contact. Gosh, what is happening to me? I thought, my heart fluttering.

“McKenzie,” Rafayel said softly, breaking the comfortable silence. He looked down at me, his eyes searching mine. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You already did,” I chuckled, nudging him playfully.

He hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. “I… uh… what are we?” he asked, finally meeting my gaze.

My heart skipped a beat. I hadn’t been expecting him to ask that so soon. “What do you want us to be?” I responded, leaning a little closer to him.

He looked away, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. “I don’t want to be just friends,” he mumbled. “I us want to be… lovers. If that’s okay with you.”

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. I leaned in and gave him a quick, soft kiss on the cheek. “Yes,” I whispered.

I turned back to the movie, trying to act casual, but I could feel his surprised gaze on me.

“Are you serious?” he asked, his voice full of disbelief.

I just shrugged, hiding half of my face in the pillows, a wide grin plastered on my face.

“Hey!” he protested, gently poking my arm. “You can’t just say yes and then say nothing after!”

“You heard me. I’m not repeating myself,” I mumbled, burying my face further into the pillows, trying to hide the goofy grin that was plastered across my face.

Rafayel, however, seemed to take my muffled “yes” as a full-blown declaration of love worthy of a public celebration. He let out a whoop of joy, jumping up and down on the spot, making the couch cushions bounce. I couldn’t help but laugh at his childish enthusiasm. It was infectious.

Then, before I could even process what was happening, he scooped me up into his arms, lifting me into the air and spinning me around. “Rafayel! Put me down!” I yelled, half-laughing, half-panicked, playfully punching him on the back. But he just ignored my protests, continuing to spin me around the room.

“Nuh-uh,” he said, his voice full of glee. “Not when my girlfriend just said yes.” He finally set me back down on the couch, but he didn’t let go, keeping his arms wrapped around me.

“You’re being childish, Raf,” I said, still slightly breathless from the unexpected spin.

“You make me go childish, Mc,” he retorted, his voice softening as he looked deeply into my eyes.

I looked up at him, the dim light from the TV hiding the blush that was creeping up my face. The air between us crackled with a sudden intensity. I slowly leaned in, and he met me halfway, our lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss that quickly deepened into something more passionate. It felt… magical. Like every cheesy romance movie I’d ever watched had suddenly come to life.

This kiss was the polar opposite of the elaborate scenarios I’d conjured up in my childhood daydreams. Back then, my ideal first kiss involved a picturesque setting: a moonlit lake, perhaps, or a field of wildflowers, with my Prince Charming serenading me with a lute (don’t judge, I was a kid). We’d gaze into each other’s eyes, the air thick with unspoken longing, before finally sharing a tender, movie-worthy kiss.

But this? This was happening in Rafayel’s slightly messy, definitely not-moonlit apartment, amidst the lingering scent of instant noodles and the flickering light of the TV. Not exactly the stuff of fairy tales. And yet… it was perfect. The unexpectedness of it, the raw emotion, the undeniable connection I felt with Rafayel – it was all so much more real and exciting than any fantasy I’d ever imagined.

A small part of me did feel a twinge of disappointment. This wasn’t the grand, romantic gesture I’d always envisioned. There were no violins playing in the background, no gentle breeze rustling through willow trees. But then I looked at Rafayel, his eyes still shining with the afterglow of the kiss, and that small twinge of disappointment vanished. This was us. This was our moment. And it was perfect in its own imperfect way.

Besides, I had no one to blame but myself. I was the one who had initiated the kiss. I was the one who had leaned in, breaking the comfortable tension between us. So, while my inner child might have been slightly disappointed by the lack of a lakeside setting and a lute-playing prince, my present self was definitely not complaining. This kiss, this moment, this him… it was all surprisingly, wonderfully real. And I wouldn't trade it for all the moonlit lakes in the world.

Rafayel seemed just as caught up in the moment. He responded to the kiss with equal enthusiasm, pulling me closer and wrapping his arms tightly around me. I instinctively put my arms around his shoulders, pulling him even closer. The sounds from the movie faded into the background, the only sound that mattered being the soft sound of our breathing.

After a few blissful minutes, we reluctantly pulled away, both of us slightly breathless. We sat back on the couch, still nestled close together, our arms wrapped around each other.

“I was saving that for our first date, you know,” Rafayel said, a playful pout on his lips as he pulled me closer.

“Sorry,” I giggled, nudging him playfully. “You just looked so breathtaking earlier.” I paused, then a wave of curiosity washed over me. “You’re a good kisser… did you date or kiss any other girls before me?”

“Hey, hey, we just started dating, and you’re already at the jealous stage?” he teased, pulling away slightly to look at me.

“I’m just curious,” I protested, poking him in the chest. “So, did you or did you not?”

“No,” he said, his smile softening. “You’re the first one.” He pulled me back into a hug, nuzzling his face into my hair.

Just then, my phone dinged, breaking the cozy atmosphere. I glanced down and saw a message from Dad.

‘Sweetie, don’t you think you’re both going too fast?’

My heart dropped into my stomach. I frantically scanned the room, my eyes searching for any hidden cameras. Then, I saw it. Perched on a tree branch just outside the window, illuminated by the streetlight, was Mephisto, Dad’s ridiculously high-tech mechanical crow. Its tiny red eyes glowed menacingly.

Fuck. I was so dead.

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