Theo – Twenty-three
We were nearly at the apartment when I looked up. The sky had cleared, and the stars felt closer than they ever had before.
I felt Celia do the same thing beside me, us both transporting back to thirty minutes ago or maybe even all those years ago that we spent under the stars, waiting for her to see the shooting star she was desperate for.
She turned to me then, “Do you always wish for the same thing?” she asked.
I nodded at her, my smile hidden.
“What do you always wish for?”
“For more shooting stars,” I replied evenly and her face looked puzzled at my answer.
“Why?” she asked confused.
“Because you love them and it makes you happy. I like seeing you happy.”
She didn’t say anything, just smiled — soft and a little surprised — and then looked ahead again.
We kept walking, but everything felt altered.
The world was quiet around us, just the muted hum of the street and the distant clink of glassware from an open window above.
Her arm brushed mine. Her dress danced around her thighs with every step, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the way she’d looked tonight when I’d first seen her.
How my mouth had gone dry. How every thought I’d had about staying composed had evaporated.
And now here we were, on the edge of something I didn’t want to define too quickly in case it vanished. But I could feel it. In every breath. Every glance. Every quiet second between her words.
We reached her building, and my heart started hammering harder than it had any right to. She stepped in front of me and reached into her bag, searching for her key.
I lifted my hand to the lock without thinking, fingers brushing cool metal. “I’ve got it,” I said quietly.
I wasn’t rushing her. I just didn’t want to break the spell.
She stilled.
Then slowly, she turned to face me.
That look — fuck. It undid me. It was half-question, half-truth. There was something wide open in her gaze, like she was holding a fragile secret between her ribs. I didn’t know if it was meant for me. But I wanted to be the one she gave it to.
Her eyes searched mine. Mine searched back.
I couldn’t think.
Couldn’t breathe properly.
All I knew was that I was standing so close I could smell her perfume; subtle and warm and something I’d swear was vanilla. All I knew was the shape of her mouth. The flutter of her pulse at her neck. The air between us, humming like it had been waiting.
My gaze dropped .
Just to her lips.
My hand lifted — not touching her, not yet. Just hovering near her jaw. One inch away. I could feel the heat radiating from her skin.
She didn’t move.
And then I kissed her.
Softly.
Like the moment deserved nothing less.
Her mouth met mine with a slowness that felt sacred. My whole body pulled toward her without permission, like gravity had finally won. And the second I felt her lips part slightly beneath mine — not urgent, not demanding — just there , I felt something crack open in my chest.
She made a sound — barely there, breath caught at the back of her throat — and I swear I felt it all the way down my spine.
I hesitated for a beat. Just long enough to be sure.
But then her hands were at my waist, and my restraint — already worn razor thin — threatened to shatter.
I let my palm slide to her hip.
She backed into the door gently, body aligning with mine, and I stepped in closer, crowding her space but not overwhelming it. Our mouths moved in quiet tandem, slow and searching, like we were trying to memorise the shape of something new — or maybe something we'd always known.
I could feel how much I was holding back. Every inch of me was tense with it. Not because I didn’t want her — fuck, I wanted her — but because I wanted her to know she was safe. That I’d never take more than she wanted to give. That this moment was hers just as much as mine.
Her fingers slid under the hem of my shirt.
My entire body reacted — heat flooding my veins, muscle twitching under her touch.
She was so gentle. Almost tentative. But not shy. Like she wanted to explore me.
My breath caught beside her cheek.
My forehead pressed lightly to hers as I fought to stay grounded. I wasn’t used to this — to wanting someone this much and still wanting to wait . To savour .
“Celia,” I whispered.
She lifted her eyes, and they were soft and shining and clear. Her breath hitched. Then—
“Theo.”
The way she said my name — quiet, like a secret — it undid me in the most devastating way.
She looked at me. I mean really looked. And then she nodded, the tiniest motion. Her voice trembled, but her words didn’t waver.
“Come inside.”
My heart thudded so hard I was sure she could hear it.
Still, I didn’t move straight away. I wanted to look at her for just a second longer.
Her lips were plump. Her cheeks flushed. Her eyes — wide, a little nervous, but full of something else too.
I wanted to remember this version of her. Not just beautiful — she was always beautiful — but soft in a way she didn’t always let herself be. Like she was lowering the armour just for me .
I leaned in again and kissed her one more time, slower than before. Deeper. Letting it stretch. Letting myself feel it.
Her hands gripped the fabric of my shirt tighter.
I pulled back and breathed against her mouth.
“You sure?”
She nodded again. “Yes.”
So, I slipped the key from her hand and turned it in the lock, both of us stepping inside, she reached for the light encasing the space in a soft glow and then she turned to me with a smile as the door clicked softly behind us.
I took a deep breath letting myself become accustomed to the new light and the way Celia was the glowing ember amongst it all.
A part of me hoped when I was younger that we would have this moment together; a chance at us. We would have the date and the kiss and everything else that came with being together and yet now it was all happening I couldn’t quite believe it.
I felt like I’d been kissed by the Gods themselves with the chance of being with her.
I let my eyes trail over her again slowly, saving every moment of this to my memory. I knew I would never forget this, no matter what happened between us, but I wanted to take my time savouring it, savouring her, nevertheless.
She looked ethereal in this light and I was a moth to her eternal flame.