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You suggested he film a trend for his blog. A simple video, nothing complicated—just some moves to the music. He agreed, even smiled, and you settled in for a casual evening.

But the filming didn't go according to plan.

He did everything wrong. He mixed up his movements, stood at the wrong angle, laughed at the most inopportune moments. You were already on your tenth reshoot, and your patience snapped.

"What's wrong with you?!" you snapped, throwing your phone on the couch. "I just asked you to repeat the movements! It's so simple! I'm just kissing you, and you're hugging me!"

He stood leaning against the wall and looked at you with that stupid smile of his.

• Why are you getting so worked up? Relax.

"Relax?" You came closer, glaring at him. "I wanted a great video, and you ruined it!"

Instead of answering, he stepped forward, took your face in his hands and kissed you.

You froze. The anger began to melt, giving way to something warm.

"Stop..." you breathed into his lips, pressing your fists into his chest. "You know... you know that this is my weakness..."

He pulled back exactly a centimeter, his eyes dancing with dazzle.

“I know,” he whispered. “That’s why I’m kissing you.”

And he kissed you again. Deeper. More insistently. You forgot about the trend, about the video, about your anger. Only his hands remained and this kiss that drove you crazy.