IT WASN'T gentle. Hindi ito matamis. It wasn't any of those things first kisses after long separation were supposed to be.
It was angry. Desperate. Isang taon ng pait at pangungulila compressed into one moment.
He kissed back just as intensely—hands in her hair, pulling her closer, like if he held tight enough she couldn't leave again.
When they finally broke apart, both breathless, foreheads touching, she whispered: "I'm still angry."
"I know."
"This doesn't mean I forgive you."
"I know."
"We have so much to figure out."
"I know."
"Stop saying I know!"
"What should I say?"
"I don't know!" She laughed despite herself. "God, we're a mess."
"The messiest."
She pulled back slightly, looking at him properly. Ang beard was gone—he must have shaved completely earlier, l
