There was rather too much determination in the kiss for it to be truly enjoyable, she decides. Too much resolve.
Nevertheless, as she looks up and meets his eyes and he's looking down and he's blushing so much and the pieces of the puzzle that is their relationship seem finally to have fallen into place, she can't help the butterflies that are fizzing in her stomach and can't help noticing that the world does seem to have moved, at least a little bit.
She's aware that she's smiling far too broadly for what was, frankly, a pretty mediocre kiss but decides that the fact it's a kiss with the perfect person is more important than the fact that it wasn't the perfect kiss.
After all, she intends to schedule quite a few future opportunities to practise.
Her thoughts are interrupted by his voice as he stutters through a few incoherent syllables.
"I'm... er... wow. Sorry. That was. Erm... Yeah. I guess?"
"You guess what, exactly, Ronald?" She grins up at him.
"Dammit, how are you so much more coherent than me right now?"
In answer, her smile only grows broader. It's a wonderful day and the sun is shining and the birds are singing and she's wrapped up in the arms of the only boy she can imagine enjoying such a thoroughly mediocre first kiss from.
"Ron?"
"Yeah?"
"Now that we've established that you do, in fact, want to kiss me and I do, in fact, want to reciprocate, and that neither of us is about to run away and none of your brothers is going to interrupt us, and that our entire friendship is not going to crash and burn, and that, frankly, I'm really a bit head over heels for you, do you think we could try that again? You know, maybe with less barely suppressed panic and more enjoying the moment?"
He breathes a sigh of relief.
"I thought you'd never ask."
The second kiss is rather more successful than the first.