The first kiss wasn’t the monumental and reality shifting experience girls gushed about and old men told with glossy eyes and a soft smile.

It was too many teeth and chapped lips and clumsy fingers, trying to figure out this unknown dance and its choreography.

Both had kissed before. First crushes, strangers, sometimes even unwanted but unavoidable. But this first belonged solely to them, washing over the guilt and regret that came with some of the old memories.

And for a moment it was only them. Graceless, fumbling and laughing.

And that made it perfect.