Chapter Five – When Her Lips Found Mine
The week dragged on like an ache, each day slower than the last.
Every time Nayah's phone buzzed, her pulse spiked, hoping it was Rina. And almost always, it was. The rhythm of her days had begun to center around those messages: the teasing ones that made her smile at the wrong times, the late-night texts that had her staring at her phone in the dark, biting her lip to stop herself from grinning too hard.
It was ridiculous, Nayah told herself. They weren't even… anything. Not yet. But the way Rina talked to her—half playful, half daring—left no space for pretense.
By Friday, Nayah was restless. She hadn't even realized how much she wanted to see her until the message came in.
Rina: Come over. Tonight.
Nayah's heart skipped.
Nayah: Why?
A pause. Then—
Rina: Because I don't feel like waiting anymore.
Nayah read the words again and again until her chest felt too tight. She typed three different responses before settling on the only one that made sense.
Nayah: Send me the address.
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Rina's apartment sat on the third floor of a quiet building. The hallway smelled faintly of paint and floor polish. Nayah's hands trembled as she knocked, and she almost convinced herself to turn back before the door swung open.
Rina leaned casually against the frame, her hoodie hanging loose, her hair damp as if she had just stepped out of the shower. Her eyes flicked over Nayah with a slow, deliberate scan that made her flush.
"You came," Rina said softly, her mouth curving into that teasing half-smile.
"Yeah," Nayah answered, suddenly very aware of her own heartbeat.
The apartment was smaller than she expected, but warm. A single lamp glowed near the couch, casting shadows that softened the edges of the room. Clothes were draped carelessly over a chair, a pair of sneakers by the door, and a faint scent of citrus and laundry detergent lingered in the air. Somewhere in the background, a soft R&B track hummed from a speaker, the bass low and smooth.
Nayah stood awkwardly near the door, clutching the strap of her bag. "So this is… nice," she said lamely.
Rina smirked as she closed the door behind her. "Don't be nervous."
"I'm not nervous," Nayah lied, her voice thinner than she'd meant it to be.
"You're lying."
Rina stepped closer, slow, deliberate, her presence filling the space like gravity itself. Nayah's breath caught. She wanted to move, to step back, but her feet stayed planted.
Rina tilted her head, eyes sharp but soft all at once. "Want me to prove it?" she whispered, her voice dipping lower, thicker.
Nayah's throat went dry. "Prove what?"
"That you want this as much as I do."
The silence between them stretched, heavy and electric. Nayah's body betrayed her—her chest rising and falling too quickly, her lips parting like they were already waiting.
And then, finally, Rina closed the distance.
Her lips brushed against Nayah's first, featherlight, a question waiting for an answer. Nayah froze, her entire body going rigid—until instinct took over. She leaned in, letting the spark catch, and suddenly the kiss deepened.
It was soft at first, tentative. But when Rina slid her hand up, fingers threading into Nayah's hair, everything shifted. The kiss turned sharp, hungry, a rush of heat that stole the breath from her lungs.
Nayah gasped against her mouth, clutching at Rina's hoodie like she needed something solid to hold onto. Rina pulled her closer, tugging her until their bodies pressed together, and the world outside that tiny apartment blurred into nothing.
The taste of her was intoxicating—warm, sweet, dizzying. Every nerve in Nayah's body lit up at once. Her heart pounded so loud she was sure Rina could hear it.
When Rina finally pulled back, their lips slick, her grin lazy and dangerous, Nayah's chest heaved like she'd just run a marathon.
"You've been driving me crazy," Rina murmured, her forehead resting gently against hers.
Nayah swallowed hard, her voice shaky. "You're… you're impossible."
"And you love it," Rina teased, pressing another kiss, slower this time, to the corner of Nayah's mouth.
Nayah let out a shaky laugh, her hands still trembling where they clutched Rina's hoodie. She wanted to deny it, to protect herself from the weight of what this meant. But she couldn't—not with the taste of Rina still burning on her lips.
For the first time, she stopped pretending she didn't want this.
Stopped pretending she didn't want her.
And the scariest part? It felt like the most natural thing in the world.