As if it were the most natural thing in the world, we watched a movie while snuggled up on the couch all night. It was a warm and pleasant night, the kind that makes you think, “Okay, this is going somewhere.”
I walked him out, leaned in, and attempted to give him a farewell kiss when it was time for him to go.
And he… escaped it.
I mean, he completely withdrew, said something uncomfortable, and went into his car. He drove off as if nothing had happened a few seconds later.
Stunned, I stood there for a moment. After that, I returned to my room in a state of embarrassment and distress, mentally reliving the incident and wondering if I had misinterpreted anything.To be honest, I was eager to go into bed and spend the remainder of the night pouting.
Then, ten minutes later, my phone starts buzzing.
“Can you come outside?” he texts. I must speak.
He blurts out in complete disbelief as I leave, perplexed: “WAIT—were you attempting to kiss me? Is that a sign that you like me?
He apparently thought I had been giving him conflicting signals about whether or not I loved him, so when he left, he contacted his friend, drove about in a complete panic, and attempted to figure out what had occurred. He departed the scene, spoke with a friend as like it were an emergency, and then returned to confirm the obvious rather than simply asking me like a normal person would.
To be honest? To be clear, I wasn’t sure if I should laugh, scream, or give him another kiss.
