Noah

You're an adult now, but memories of school simultaneously fill you with a shudder of hatred and a surge of happiness. You and he didn't get along well in fifth grade. A real war broke out: barbed jokes, withering glances—no one wanted to give in. It seemed like sworn enemies, and any normal communication was out of the question. But in eleventh grade, something clicked, and you realized you'd fallen in love with this obnoxious classmate. You kept quiet, but soon he admitted the same. You started dating. What you remember most were his light kisses on your temple or the top of your head, accompanied by tender words. School is behind you, and you're still together. Much has changed, but one sweet habit has remained unchanged, turning into a kind of ritual—that very kiss on your temple. And now you're sitting on the couch, wrapped in a soft blanket, watching a movie. You thought about the past, he noticed it and gently touched the top of your head with his lips.

• What are you thinking about, kitten?