「 ✦ Halsey's POV ✦ 」
The kiss was quick, but in that fleeting moment, the world tilted on its axis. His lips were soft against mine, warm and tasting faintly of mint. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird as electricity shot through every nerve ending.
When I finally registered what I'd done—that I'd actually kissed him—I jerked backward, my fingertips flying to my tingling lips, eyes wide with the shock of my own boldness.
I looked up at him, my eyes wide, as Hero’s face hovered above mine, his pupils dilated and unfocused, lips slightly parted, as if someone had pressed pause on a movie at precisely the wrong moment.
Heat crawled up my neck and bloomed across my cheeks as I jerked backward. Hero's hands fell away from my waist, fingers uncurling one by one like wilting petals.
"I'm so sorry, I'm not entirely sure why I did that..." I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I twisted my silver ring around and around my finger, focusing on the cool metal against my skin rather than meeting his gaze.
I felt his hand wrap around mine, his fingers warm and gentle against my skin.
I looked up at him, my breath catching in my throat. A faint blush colored his high cheekbones as he smiled crookedly at me.
"I'm not sorry, so why should you be?" he asked, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.
He tugged me closer, his scent enveloping me, though he maintained just enough distance that I could feel the warmth radiating from him without our bodies touching.
His eyes searched mine intently, tracking every microexpression as heat rushed to my face, spreading from my neck to the tips of my ears.
My cheeks burn as I confess, "I've never done something like that before."
The night air cools my flushed skin, and I can't help the smile that tugs at the corners of my mouth. His eyes crinkle at the edges as his grin spreads across his face, white teeth gleaming in the moonlight.
He takes a step backward, his warm fingers gently pulling mine.
"Good, hate to think I'd have to fight everyone you've ever kissed." His laugh is deep and melodic, sending a shiver down my spine despite the summer heat.
"Now, I could use a drink and to learn your name, so let's go Pequeña Hada."
He turns, his warm thumb brushing over my knuckles as he intertwines our fingers.
The distant thump of bass grows louder as he leads me through the dewy grass toward the golden glow of windows spilling light onto the lawn.
We walk into the house, the bass from speakers somewhere thumping through the floorboards.
Niko and Halo have vanished into the crowd, but Hazel holds court in the living room, perched on a leather ottoman surrounded by a circle of girls hanging on her every word.
I shake my head, smiling despite myself, and follow Hero through the crush of bodies. The kitchen gleams under harsh fluorescent lights, a stark contrast to the dimness of the rest of the house.
He lifts me onto the cold granite island with strong hands at my waist, then turns to the array of bottles lining the counter.
His fingers move deftly, splashing amber liquids and fizzing mixers into a bright red Solo cup.
When he hands it to me, the liquid inside sloshes dangerously close to the rim. I sniff cautiously and recoil at the sharp, fruity scent hiding something much stronger beneath.
"Are you trying to kill me?" I ask, eyebrows raised. He laughs, the sound warm and rich, then tilts his head back to drain his own cup in one fluid motion.
The muscles in his throat work as he swallows, and he sets the empty cup down with a hollow plastic sound before positioning himself in front of me.
His palms rest on either side of my thighs, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from them through my jeans.
"Never," he murmurs, his breath sweet with alcohol and mint. "Just want to take the edge off. Your shoulders have been up around your ears since we walked in."
I stare into the swirling depths of my drink, then, before I can overthink it, press the cup to my lips and swallow it all in three desperate gulps.
The liquid burns a fiery path down my throat, leaving behind the cloying sweetness of artificial fruits.
Almost immediately, a pleasant warmth blooms in my chest and spreads outward, softening the sharp edges of the world around me.
I smile crookedly as Hero takes my cup and looks at me curiously.
"You don't drink, do you?" he asks, amusement dancing in his eyes while concern creases the corners of his mouth. I nod and reach out, my fingertips finding the smooth button on his shirt.
The bass from the party throbs through the floorboards beneath us as I notice he's shifted closer, the spicy scent of his cologne wrapping around me.
"This is my first time. Never really had much of an opportunity before," I confess, my voice barely audible over the music as I tilt my chin up.
His gaze darkens, pupils expanding until only a thin ring of gold remains, hunger written plainly across his features.
"You've yet to tell me your name."
"It's Halsey, but my sisters call me Zi." His full lips curve upward as his hand travels from my cheek down the sensitive skin of my neck, finding the soft spot where my hairline begins. His fingers tangle in my curls, sending shivers cascading down my spine.
"Are you in college?" The intensity of his stare pins me in place, making my knees weak.
"In September, I'm headed to Washington State," I reply, my restless hands continuing to fidget with his shirt, feeling the firm warmth of his chest beneath the fabric.
"How old are you?" Hero asks, his deep voice vibrating through the small space between us.
"18, just turned in April." Surprise flickers across his face before he reaches up, his calloused thumb brushing against my flushed cheek.
He studies me with an unreadable expression, his jaw tightening before he exhales a soft sigh that tickles my forehead.
"f**k, you're a baby." The words come out as a husky mutter, his warm palm stilling against my neck, holding me in place as he searches my eyes.
"I'm an adult," I protest, my lower lip jutting out slightly. "Why? How old are you?" I gather my courage and hook my fingers into his shirt, tugging him closer until our hips nearly touch.
"22 and I already graduated college; I'm headed back home soon." His words are soft but they land like stones in my stomach.
"Oh." Disappointment blooms in my chest, a hollowness spreading as I realize this spark between us will likely fizzle out before it truly ignites.
I gaze up into his face—all sharp angles and five o'clock shadow—as he stares down at me, the party fading into background noise.
He stares down at me, our bodies pressed together so closely I can feel the rise and fall of his chest with each breath.
His fingers reach up and tangle in my hair, gently tugging at the roots as he draws me closer, the scent of cedar clinging to his skin.
"I've never felt so drawn to someone before," he says, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.
He tilts his face down toward mine, his warm breath caressing my lips.
"Something about you draws me in," he murmurs, his eyes darkening like storm clouds, "and I just can't help myself."
Slowly he brushes his lips over mine, a feather-light touch that sends electricity down my spine, before firmly pressing his mouth to mine.
The world blurs at the edges, sounds fading to a distant hum as I surrender, my eyelids fluttering closed to better absorb every sensation.
His lips, impossibly soft and full against mine, move with practiced confidence. They taste faintly of mint and something uniquely him.
His strong hands slide from my waist to the small of my back, fingers splaying possessively as he pulls me flush against the solid warmth of his chest until I can feel his heartbeat thundering in time with mine.
The kiss deepens, transforms. With gentle insistence, he teases my lips apart, claiming dominance with a skill that makes my knees weaken.
His tongue traces the sensitive curve of my bottom lip, leaving a trail of fire before he captures it between his teeth with a rumbling groan that vibrates through my bones.
Liquid heat floods my belly, radiating outward until I'm dizzy with want. Between my thighs, I clench around emptiness, feeling the telltale slickness of arousal dampen my underwear as my pulse throbs insistently at my core.
I cling to him, my fingers digging into the soft cotton of his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin beneath as he holds me.
His mouth claims mine with increasing urgency, drawing a soft whimper from deep in my throat that vibrates between us.
His mouth is hot and tastes faintly of cinnamon, the kissing growing more and more desperate until I'm whimpering like I've been wounded.
He pulls away suddenly, his pupils so dilated that only a thin electric-blue ring remains visible around the darkness. His chest rises and falls rapidly against mine, our breaths mingling between us.
We stare at each other, neither willing to break the spell. His hands slide down to my waist, thumbs pressing into my hipbones through my pants.
"Come home with me tonight," he says, voice ragged and low. The light catches the flush spreading across his cheekbones, the slight tremble in his lower lip.
My heart hammers against my ribs as I try to catch my breath.
He waits, patient despite the hunger in his eyes, giving me time to decide. The rational part of my brain catalogs all the reasons this is a mistake, but my body knows what it wants.
After tonight, he'll be gone—back to his life, his world that doesn't include me—and I'll never again feel this magnetic pull toward anyone.
"Okay," I whisper, the word barely audible over the distant sound of traffic. "Take me home."
The moment the words leave my lips, I feel something inside me shift irrevocably.