Almost Perfect
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Rei's POV
I think perhaps I've been waiting for this moment my whole life. We both know what we want to happen, but neither of us is quite sure how to begin. I've never kissed anyone before, and I don't think you have either, so the silence lingers awkwardly while each of us tries to think of a way to bridge the small, infinitely wide space between us.
Your eyes meet mine, then dart away - not looking away from me, but moving your gaze over my face, examining my features in minute detail; I know because I'm doing the same thing to you. You're honestly the most incredible thing I've ever seen. People have called me "cute" and "gorgeous", as if I were some sort of doll, but you're nothing like that. Your features are classic, like those of a Renaissance statue - not pretty, but handsome.
It's hard sometimes, to remember that you're only the same age as me. Fifteen years old, with the serious expression of a grown man hiding the naïve grace of the child you were never allowed to be. Well, with me you can be whatever you want; I won't judge or reject you. I've seen you at your best and your worst, and I can say with absolute certainty that I've accepted you - good and bad. And you've done the same for me, otherwise you wouldn't be here.
I can feel the blood colouring my cheeks, and I can see it colouring yours - staining red beneath those blue markings. My breath's coming quicker than it should, short, shallow pants as if I'm about to start hyperventilating. But I'm not - it's all because of you. Your eyes stop wandering over my face and lock with mine, and I can see the question in them.
I know there's only one answer.
So, I lean forward and press my lips against yours, unsure of what I'm doing and trying to cover my ignorance with sheer momentum. Of course it doesn't work; my forehead jars against yours and the kiss intended for your mouth lands on your chin instead. Pulling back, I'm blushing even more, horribly embarrassed by my lack of expertise. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all...
Then you smile - not the usual smirk you wear, but an honest-to-goodness smile - and leaning up, you kiss me on the forehead, right where it bumped against yours. And despite myself, I'm smiling too, because I realise that it doesn't matter if it's not perfect; it's something we have to figure out together.
Let's try it again...