The sunlight peeked through the gaps of curtains, disturbing Winter's peaceful sleep. It had been a long time since she slept past five in the morning. She rolled over the bed, not wanting to get up in the coldness.
Her gaze fell on the purple teddy that Zane gifted. A smile crept on her face as she thought of Zane. She hugged the bear and mumbled, "What should I name you?"
She spent more than two hours, thinking about Zane and a name for her teddy, lying under the warmth of her blanket. That was her way of spending her birthday, cooped up in her bedroom.
She made no effort to get up until the calling bell rang. Groaning, she threw over the blanket and went downstairs to get the door. Opening it, she was welcomed with a sight she wanted to keep seeing every day. But probably not with the unkempt hair and uncleaned bare face.
"Good morning, Winter," Zane greeted and invited himself in. "Did I disturb your sleep?"
"No. I woke up two hours ago," she responded and closed the door after him, frantically trying to finger-comb her hair. She was now sure that she had a degree on how to embarrass herself. Fortunately, the person in front of her didn't mind her messy state.
"How can you look adorable even without washing your face?" he mumbled while taking off his shoes.
She pursed her lips at his comment and asked, "What brings you here so early?"
"I thought you wouldn't want to spend your birthday at home," Zane said.
"Quite the opposite. I don't feel like going out today." Last night was enough of a rollercoaster ride for her, which made her feel drained out.
"Then, you wanna stay at home and do nothing?" He furrowed his brows in confusion.
"We can do a lot of things even by staying at home," Winter replied, pulling her long hair into a bun.
Zane bit his lips as he watched her tie her hair, leaving a few strands open. "Such as?"
"Lie in bed—"
"I didn't think you wanted such a fast progress," he cut in, playing with his fingers, acting shy purposefully.
"What?" Her eyes grew big as she realized what he meant. "No, no. That's not what I meant. I was saying, lie in bed and watch Netflix or play games."
Zane chortled and pulled her cheek. "Teasing you is fun." Her nose flared in anger. Just as she was about to retort, he spoke up, "Is there anything you want me to do for you today, considering it's your birthday?"
Winter rolled her eyes and sighed. She started tapping her finger, trying to think, but her eyes ended up landing on his lips. She shook her head and said in a hurry, "Make me a yummy breakfast. I'm feeling too lazy to cook on my own today."
"I would love to do that for you, but—"
"No excuses." She formed her hands into a cross and further said, "You will find everything in the kitchen. I'm going to freshen up now."
"You know, I can't cook," he let out, hoping she would spare herself from his horrible cooking. However, she only just waved her hand in dismissal as she climbed up to her room.
Winter closed the door of her room and leaned against it, breathing in and out. "Geez, what's wrong with me? Why do I keep finding him more attractive with each passing day?" She buried her face in her hands, feeling her heart racing fast as she couldn't get the image of his tempting lips out of her head.
"Fucking hormones…" she cursed and grumbled for a little while before slapping herself out of her fallacy and bolted to the bathroom to freshen up. Once she was done, she put on an oversized black t-shirt and pink tights and went to the kitchen to find Zane dawdling around with his phone. "You didn't start making anything yet?"
"First of all, I can't cook. Secondly, this isn't my kitchen. Thirdly, you weren't here to supervise me," Zane spoke up, his eyes glued to his phone screen as he was watching how to make omelet soufflée.
Winter put her hands on her hip and breathed out, "So you have got nothing done yet?"
"However, I did find some snacks on the top shelf." He pointed at the basket of snacks on the counter.
Winter eyed the snacks suspiciously. "They weren't here yesterday."
"Maybe your mom left them for you," he guessed.
"She's not my mom," she retorted.
"Right. Sorry. Mrs. Weston." Zane placed his phone down and started saying, "At first I thought of making you blueberry pancakes—" he stopped as his gaze landed on the towel around her wet hair to her collarbone.
"And?" Winter stopped scanning the packets of snacks and looked back at him.
Zane swallowed and licked his lips before continuing, "You don't have blueberries, so I thought of making omelet soufflée, but I can never get it right."
"Do you want me to make it?"
"Or we can decide it with a game," he suggested, a mischievous glint visible in his eyes. "How about—"
"Rock-paper-scissor?"
"No." He gave her a flat look. "It's just a stupid luck game, which I always end up losing. Let's play with this." He showed her a packet of pocky.
"Eh?" Winter tilted her head in confusion.
"In this game, whoever eats the middle part first wins—"
Winter took out a chocolate biscuit stick and munched on the middle part. "I win," she stated with a blank face.
Zane stifled his laughter but couldn't hold it seeing her innocent face as she chewed the biscuit in her mouth. "That's not how you play it."
"Then?" She took out another stick to eat but he stopped her.
"We both start eating it together from each end. Whoever gets to the middle part faster wins, and if you pull out before that, I'll win by default. Is that clear?"
Winter tried to picture the game in her head. When she realized the consequences, her cheeks started to burn. "What? That's so disgusting. Why would you suggest such a game? Why does that even exist?"
Zane chuckled. "C'mon, it's not disgusting. I have done this plenty of time."
Winter narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms against her chest. "Plenty of times? With whom and how many times, may I ask?"
Zane opened his mouth to speak but closed it. Pursing his lips, he ran a hand through his hair. "Um, let's not play this game. Let's go with something—"
"No, I want to play it now," Winter declared. She took the chocolate stick from his hand and put one end in her mouth, motioning him to join.
Zane muttered, "I should have thought this through."
Sighing, he bit on the other end, making her lips curve up. The two of them started eating together at a fast pace, competitive to win with the desire not to cook. However, when they were nearing the middle part, they slowed down, taking time to chew on the biscuit in their mouth, their breaths mingling with each other. The only sound in the kitchen was the crunching of the biscuit and their fast heartbeats.
Just as their lips were about to touch in the middle, Winter got nervous and pulled away abruptly. A feeling of rejection overwhelmed Zane as he squeezed his eyes shut.
"I'm sorry. I—"
"It seems you lost," he spoke up, forcing a smile on his face. "However, this game was pointless. It's your birthday. You shouldn't be the one cooking." There was a bitterness in his voice that made Winter feel guilty.
"Zane—"
"You should go dry your hair. You will catch a cold," he told her.
"O-okay," Winter stuttered out and ran to her room as fast as she could.
After she left, Zane banged his head on the shelf. "Idiot. What did you act like that for? You said you would understand and give her time. Idiotic moron. Thoughtless. You should just die," he scolded himself. "Apologize when she comes," he decided and started looking through the fridge to make her breakfast.
On the other hand, Winter was drying her hair with tears running down her cheeks. "Idiot. Why did you pull away? That was such a perfect opportunity. What would he think of me now? I'm not ready for it?" She scoffed. "I probably am not, but goddamnit, I want to kiss him."
When she was done drying her hair, she left it open and looked at herself in the mirror. "It's just me and him. An empty house. A perfect chance. A perfect day. You can do it, Winter." She made her mind and smiled at herself before going downstairs.
Winter entered the kitchen and saw Zane cutting vegetables with great difficulty, with his back facing her. Subconsciously, she started staring at his broad shoulders and neck. Sensing her presence, he spoke up, "Can you check if this is okay?"
Winter snapped out of her trance and went to stand beside him. Playing with a tomato, she glanced at his face and said, "Yeah, perfect."
Zane felt weird about her comment but nodded his head nonetheless. There was a thick silence in the kitchen, both of them lost in their own fallacy.
Clearing his throat, Zane started, "I'm sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have acted like that earlier. I know I should give you more space and time—"
"Don't apologize when I have made up my mind," Winter breathed out.
"About what?" Zane turned his head towards her, his ocean orbs meeting her emerald ones.
"About this." Winter sucked in a deep breath and stood on her tiptoes, leaning forward. Mustering courage worth a thousand years, she pressed her soft lips on his, giving in to her desires. In that split second with the touch of her lips, every nerve in his body and brain felt electrified.
Before Winter could withdraw her mind from its far places, she pulled away and started saying, "Sorry, I wasn't thinkin—" her words were interrupted as Zane turned her over and pushed her against the counter. He gazed into her eyes for a brief moment and cupped her cheeks, as if asking for permission, before connecting his lips with her again.
His kiss was not at all the same as those movie stars that she imagined, rather one steeped in a passion that ignited a fire within her belly. Her fists automatically clutched the fabric of his shirt, moving her lips in sync with his. It was slow, gentle yet burning and addicting; like the best sensation ever.
One of his hands went around her waist, pulling her closer while the other one tangled with her hair. With little to no space between their bodies, it still wasn't enough. After months of wanting to kiss each other, now it was the best feeling ever. If possible, they wanted to go on forever, but fate had other evil plans.
As they were too into the moment of their first kiss, the click of the main door opening went unheard by them. They didn't even realize the presence of another person in the house until the voice spoke up.
"What's going on here?"
