Lust before love

The line at the campus café stretched so long it felt like a cosmic punishment. Celestia Williams stood there with her arms folded, trying not to look as exhausted as she felt. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other while the guy in front of her spent three full minutes debating whether he wanted almond or oat milk. Her head ached, her eyes burned, and every tick of the clock reminded her that her class had started eight minutes ago. Eight. Celestia never missed class. She never overslept. She never did anything that didn’t fit neatly into the color-coded planner that ruled her life. But the night before, her best friend Gracie had looked at her with pleading eyes and said, “Please, Celly. One party. One night. One drink. You just broke up with perfect-on-paper Erick. You deserve to breathe.” Freshly dumped, emotionally numb, and just persuadable enough, Celestia had given in. One drink became two in a crowded apartment full of sweaty bodies, loud music, and sticky floors. She danced, laughed, pretended she wasn’t hurting—but somehow woke up feeling even worse. And now she was late, tired, and desperate for caffeine. When the barista finally called, “Large iced caramel latte!” Celestia grabbed the cup like it was her last lifeline and hurried out into the wide hallway leading to the main building. She weaved past students with illegal levels of determination, praying she’d sneak into class unnoticed. She mentally rehearsed the excuse she’d give her professor—definitely not the truth. Maybe a bus delay. A glitchy alarm. Solar radiation. But as she turned the corner, everything unraveled. A body slammed into hers with the force of a hurricane. Her coffee flew upward, arcing beautifully before splattering across her blouse, blazer, and new jeans. The cold shock made her gasp, caramel and ice dripping down her front. “What—!” she choked out. A tall figure stumbled back, steadying himself with a hand on the wall. “s**t—sorry!” Blinking through sticky eyelashes, Celestia looked up—and froze. A stranger. Definitely a stranger. He had messy dark hair, a sharp jaw, and wild sea-blue eyes that darted behind her like he was expecting someone to jump out. And he was stupidly, frustratingly attractive—the type who shouldn’t be allowed to exist in public without a warning label. The type who clearly didn’t look where he was going. “What is wrong with you?!” she snapped, shaking coffee from her hands. He winced. “I know. I know—sorry—I didn’t see you.” “That’s obvious!” His gaze flicked behind her again. His chest rose and fell quickly—too quickly. He wasn’t just in a hurry. He was running. Before Celestia could question it, he stepped closer. Too close. “Okay—listen,” he whispered, his voice low and urgent. “I need you to do something for me.” “Excuse me?” “I swear I’ll explain later. Just… don’t freak out.” “Why would I freak—?” He grabbed her waist. Her brain short-circuited. He pulled her toward the wall, positioning himself between her and the hallway—and then he leaned in. “What are you doing?” she hissed, pushing at his chest. “Hiding,” he breathed. “Hiding where? In my personal space?!” But then he looked at her—really looked—and something unspoken pulsed in the air. His grip tightened just slightly, his voice softening. “Please. Just go with it.” Before she could process anything— He kissed her. Celestia inhaled sharply, shocked and frozen. But over his shoulder she spotted movement: a sharp-dressed older man scanning the hallway like he was hunting someone. Someone currently kissing her to stay hidden. Suddenly, everything clicked. His lips were soft, warm, impossibly gentle for someone acting in desperation. Celestia’s hands remained stiff against his chest, her body tense. She should shove him away. Slap him. Scream. But then his thumb grazed her hip—apologetically, almost unsure. His breath mixed with hers. The man walked past, not noticing them at all. The stranger was kissing her like he was trying to disappear. And Celestia—heartbreak-tinted, sleep-deprived, running on fumes—stopped resisting. She stopped thinking. She let herself sink into the warmth of his mouth. He exhaled softly like he hadn’t expected her to kiss him back. He deepened it slightly, a hand sliding to the small of her back. Her fingers unclenched and twisted into his T-shirt. He tasted like mint gum and adrenaline. He smiled against her lips—barely—before pulling away just enough to rest his forehead against hers. They were both breathing hard. “Thank you,” he whispered. Celestia stared at him, dazed. “What… what was that?” “A terrible idea,” he murmured. “But I didn’t have time.” “Your father?” she asked. “Unfortunately.” He glanced down the hall. “He means well. But he doesn’t listen. And he insists on showing up unannounced to lecture me about life choices.” “So you… kissed me.” “To blend in.” He offered a crooked smirk. “People don’t look closely when two people are making out. It’s like social camouflage.” “That is NOT a thing!” “Worked, didn’t it?” Heat rose to her cheeks—part embarrassment, part anger, part something she didn’t want to examine. She shoved lightly at his chest. “You ruined my coffee!” “You ruined my escape route.” “You kissed me!” “You kissed me back.” Her mouth opened—then closed. Infuriatingly, he was right. “Who even are you?” she demanded. He looked genuinely surprised she didn’t know. “Blaze,” he said. “Blaze Lincoln.” The name didn't ring a bell to her. “Celestia,” she replied stiffly. He repeated it slowly, savoring it. “Celestia.” Her heart fluttered treacherously. “Well, Celestia,” he said as he stepped back, giving her space but not breaking the moment entirely, “that was one hell of a first meeting.” “It wasn’t a meeting,” she huffed. “You crashed into me.” “True.” His gaze swept over her—from her ruined blouse to her flushed cheeks. “Memorable, though.” She wanted to walk away, insult him, or rewind time and avoid that corner entirely. But all she could think about was the ghost of his lips and the way her body had reacted before her mind caught up. Blaze stepped backward, still watching her. “I’ll… see you around?” he asked. “I hope not,” she lied. He smirked like he heard the lie. Then he turned and slipped down the hall, leaving her breathless and covered in coffee. Celestia stared after him, trying to steady her heartbeat. She looked down at her clothes and groaned. She should have been furious. She should have been livid. But instead— She could still feel the kiss. And she hated how much she didn’t want to forget it.