eighteen & nineteen
Leo's POV
I'm not supposed to feel like this.
I'm not supposed to want someone this much.
Need someone this much.
Think about someone this much.
But she's sitting next to me in this quiet, dim library corner, thighs pressed to mine like she doesn't even realize she's doing it—
And I'm not hearing a single word in this textbook.
I can barely breathe.
Her perfume is soft—warm, vanilla, something sweet I can't name.
Every time she shifts, her hip brushes mine.
Every time she looks down at her notes, a curl falls into her face.
And every time she tucks it behind her ear?
I almost lose it.
I'm trying—not very successfully—to keep my eyes on the page, but my stupid traitor eyes drift.
Down her throat.
Across her collarbone.
Over the curve of her chest under that fitted top that should be illegal.
Down the soft, small dip of her waist.
Across her thighs—full, warm, pressed against mine like she belongs there.
I swallow hard.
If she knew what she was doing to me...
No.
She does know.
She definitely knows.
She catches me staring.
Of course she does.
Her voice is quiet but teasing.
"You're not studying."
I look back at the page, pretending.
"I am."
"No you're not."
I grit my teeth. "Don't."
"Don't what?"
Her voice—God help me—goes soft.
"Don't act like you're not staring at me."
I look at her.
Really look at her.
She has no idea what she looks like from my side of the table.
Thick thighs crossed casually.
Full chest rising and falling slowly.
Glossy lips parted a little.
Those eyes—bright, warm, knowing—locked on me.
I lean closer without meaning to.
"You want the truth?" I whisper.
She nods.
I exhale hard.
"I've been staring at you since you sat down."
Her breath catches.
I hear it.
"And if you don't stop looking at me like that..."
My jaw tightens.
"...I'm gonna do something we probably can't get away with in a library."
Her eyes widen just a little.
Not scared.
Interested.
She whispers, "Then maybe we should leave."
...
...
I stand so fast my chair nearly tips.
"Let's go."
She grabs her bag, heart racing—I can practically feel it—and I lead her out through the side exit, down the little path behind the library where nobody goes at night.
The moment we're out of sight, she turns to me.
And damn it—
She looks unreal in the moonlight.
I step closer.
She steps back.
Not out of fear—
out of anticipation.
Her back hits the brick wall of the library.
She inhales sharply.
And something inside me snaps.
"You sure?" I ask softly, voice rough.
She nods, breathless. "Yeah."
I put a hand on her waist first.
Always gentle.
Always giving her an out.
She doesn't move away.
She moves closer.
My voice drops into something lower than I meant:
"You drive me insane, you know that?"
She smiles—slow, dangerous. "Good."
I groan.
Actually groan.
Then I lean in and kiss her.
And this time, I don't hold back.
Her lips meet mine like she's been waiting for it too.
Warm, soft, eager.
She grabs my hoodie and pulls me down harder, kissing me back with so much need I forget what the word "self-control" means.
I press her gently against the wall, deepening the kiss, letting my hands finally—finally—slide over the curve of her waist, her hips, the softness I've been pretending not to stare at since the second I met her.
She's warm.
She's soft.
She's perfect.
My thumb brushes under her jaw, tilting her chin so I can kiss her deeper.
She gasps softly into my mouth.
God.
I didn't stand a chance with this girl.
"You're..." I murmur against her lips, "...beautiful."
She breathes, "Leo—"
I kiss her again.
Slower this time.
Lower.
Trailing down the corner of her mouth, across her cheek, down her neck—
She arches into me, breath shaky.
My fingers tighten on her waist.
"If you knew the things I think about when I look at you..."
I whisper against her skin.
"You'd run."
She doesn't run.
She grips the front of my shirt and pulls me even closer.
Her voice brushes my ear.
"Then tell me."
I shudder.
"I can't," I whisper.
"Not here."
She exhale-laughs softly. "Then where?"
I pull back just enough to look at her.
Her lips are swollen from kissing, eyes half-lidded, chest rising fast under the fabric of her top.
My voice comes out lower than I want:
"Somewhere I can't hurt you by accident."
She blinks. "You wouldn't hurt me."
"You don't know what I'm like when I want someone," I murmur.
She lifts her chin.
"Show me."
I close my eyes.
She does not know what she's asking for.
I rest my forehead against hers, breathing hard, forcing myself to slow down.
"Aaliyah," I whisper, "I want you. I'm not gonna pretend I don't."
Her breath catches.
"But I'm not rushing you," I add.
"I'm not touching you like that until you tell me you're sure."
My thumb brushes her cheek.
"I respect you too damn much."
She smiles softly—
this sweet, beautiful smile that ruins me.
"I'm sure," she whispers.
I groan again, quiet, pained.
My hand slides to her hip.
Her body fits against mine like it was designed that way.
I kiss her again—hungrier this time, heat curling under my skin, tension burning through both of us—
And then—
I pull away.
Breathless.
Shaking.
Trying to get control of myself.
"Not like this," I murmur against her lips.
"You deserve more than a library wall."
She exhales shakily. "Leo..."
I kiss her forehead gently.
"So we're gonna walk," I say softly. "Slowly. Before I forget how."
I take her hand.
She follows.
And internally?
I'm losing my mind.
Because I'm already thinking about the next time I can get her alone.
About how she tastes.
How she moves.
How she sighs into my kiss.
How her body feels under my hands.
How she pressed against me like she wanted more.
And I know now—
I'm not just falling.
I've already fallen.
Hard.