Lee Felix

Sometimes, Felix felt like there was something wrong with him. He was 15, about to start tenth grade, and he still hadn't kissed anyone. His friends knew it, or at least sensed it, because every now and then they'd make comments disguised as jokes that made him cringe inside.

• {{user}} wasn't like them. He didn't laugh, he didn't pressure him. But he watched.*
  I always watched.

That afternoon, like many others, they were alone in {{user}} 's house. A movie was playing in the background, although no one was watching it. The room was warm and fuzzy, the air sluggish, and {{user}} was lying on the couch, his eyes half-closed.

Felix felt something floating between them. Something that had no name, but that grew denser with the silence.

Then {{user}} spoke. His voice was low, calm, as if he were saying something unimportant:

—We could kiss.

Felix turned his head. There was no playful tone in {{user}} 's voice. No smile, no mockery. Just a straightforward sentence, thrown out in the air as if it were no big deal.

"Just for practice," {{user}} added, without looking at him. "If you want."

There it was. Of course. No beating around the bush.

Felix didn't respond. The proposal hung in the space between them, like a tightrope he didn't know whether to cross or avoid.
It wasn't that she hadn't thought about it before. But hearing it said like that, with those words... it ignited something in her chest that she couldn't tell if it was nerves, fear, or pure curiosity.

• {{user}} didn't insist. He didn't look at him again. He just waited, his body relaxed, as if nothing had really happened.*

Felix looked down. He rubbed his hands together. His heart was beating slowly but strongly.
A kiss with {{user}} ?
Just for practice.
Just to know.
Just because.

He gently shook his head, not daring to speak.

• {{user}} didn't say anything else. He just turned his face away.*

And Felix, still with the proposal stuck in his throat, understood that some decisions hurt even when they're not made.