Chapter 5: The First Touch After Forever
1166 Words
Noah’s flight back to Paris was just a week away.
It was surreal.
After months of video calls, sweet teasing, longing texts, and those rare yet cherished voice notes filled with sleepy confessions, he was finally coming back. Not just back to Paris, but back to her. Back to Gia.
She couldn’t hide her smile anymore, not even from her mom who had started to ask why her cheeks were always glowing. Her sister teased her endlessly. And now, with her sister’s wedding around the corner, the chaos around her was the perfect cover to hide the madness in her heart. She had dreamt of seeing him in real, again and again, played every scenario in her head. But nothing felt real.
Until that day arrived.
⸻
The Wedding
The sangeet night buzzed with music, laughter, and flashes of camera lights. Gia was in her element—draped in a wine-colored lehenga, her soft waves cascading down her back, glittering eyes lined with kohl, and lips tinted with maroon gloss. She looked nothing short of a dream.
And then she felt it—that unexplainable awareness. The kind you get when the one person who matters walks into the room.
Noah had arrived.
He wore a navy kurta with a tailored fit and rolled-up sleeves that hinted at the gym hours he never bragged about. His hair was messy in the way she liked, and his eyes—God, those eyes—searched the room until they met hers.
They stood frozen for a heartbeat across the crowd.
Gia couldn’t move. Her breath caught in her throat.
Noah gave a soft, slow smile. The kind that said “I missed you like hell.”
He walked toward her, but both of them fumbled, laughed nervously, barely managing a “Hi” before her cousin dragged her away for a dance.
But in that single moment, the air between them had changed.
They kept stealing glances the entire evening—Noah catching the way her waist curved in that lehenga, Gia blushing every time she noticed him looking. His fingers brushed hers once when they passed the same glass of wine.
And it was electric.
⸻
The Café Plan
A week later, the nerves returned.
Noah: “So… is Saturday okay? Just you and me. Finally.”
Gia: “Only if you promise not to faint when you see me eating like a monster.”
Noah: “If you’re the monster, I’m ready to be eaten.”
Gia: “Stop it 🙄 You’re not allowed to flirt till you kiss me first.”
Noah: “Careful, Gia. I might take that as an open challenge.”
They met at a tiny café tucked away in a quiet Parisian alley. The kind of place where nobody came to just sip coffee—they came for privacy.
They had booked a cabin. Just the two of them.
As she entered, Noah was already there, wearing a black hoodie with the sleeves pushed up. He stood up the moment she walked in, looking at her like he still couldn’t believe she was real.
She wore a soft pink dress, her hair in a messy bun, two strands falling gently over her face. He reached out and tucked one behind her ear.
“Hey,” she whispered.
“Hey,” he said back, his voice lower than usual.
They both laughed nervously and sat across each other. Food came and went, and so did inside jokes, stories they already knew but loved hearing again from each other’s lips. There was an ease between them… and a tension that hummed quietly under the table.
She noticed him shifting closer. He noticed the way she bit her lower lip every time he said something suggestive.
He leaned in, barely inches from her face. “Do you know how hard it is to sit across you and not touch you?”
She smiled shyly. “Then don’t.”
⸻
The Kiss
It was just a second. Maybe two.
But it felt like an eternity.
Noah stood up, walked around to her side of the cabin, and sat beside her. Their thighs brushed. She looked up at him. Her breath was shaky.
He reached for her hand and traced circles on her palm. Then his fingers curled around hers.
“You’re nervous,” he murmured.
She nodded slowly. “You make me nervous.”
He chuckled, brushing his knuckles against her cheek. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” she whispered, looking at his lips.
That was all the permission he needed.
He tilted her chin and kissed her.
Softly at first. Almost trembling. Then deeper—hands pulling her close by the waist, his fingers tangling in her bun, her body melting into his. Her hands clutched his hoodie as if afraid he’d disappear again. The world faded, the cabin faded, the music outside faded.
There was only breath, skin, and lips.
When they finally broke apart, both were red-faced, smiling like fools.
“I’ve waited for this kiss for four damn months,” he said, forehead resting against hers.
“I want more,” she whispered, and then pulled him into another one—longer, deeper.
⸻
That Night
Later, they sat side by side, sharing a chocolate pastry, their knees touching under the table.
He took a picture of her holding the fork mid-bite and laughed.
Gia: “Delete it! I look like a squirrel!”
Noah: “You look like the squirrel I’m in love with.”
When he dropped her home, they didn’t let go immediately.
Their hands stayed interlocked. Her eyes looked down, smiling uncontrollably. His lips grazed her cheek one last time.
Gia: “You kissed me.”
Noah: “You kissed me back.”
Gia: “Do you regret it?”
Noah: “Not kissing you sooner, yes.”
That night, they texted until dawn:
⸻
Chat – 1:01 AM
Gia: My lips are still tingling.
Noah: My soul is still recovering.
Gia: Stop being dramatic.
Noah: I’m dead serious. The way you tasted… I swear I wanted more.
Gia: You’ll get it. But slowly, Mr. Impatient.
Noah: Slowly sounds sexy when you say it.
Gia: Oh? What about when I say… “touch me here”?
Noah: Gia. Do NOT start this at 1 AM.
Gia: Why not? Afraid I’ll make you lose sleep?
Noah: Already lost it thinking about how soft your lips were… your hands on me…
Gia: You liked that?
Noah: I loved that. I want to kiss you everywhere.
Gia: Everywhere?
Noah: Everywhere. Slowly. Until you beg.
Gia: Guess we both won’t sleep tonight.
⸻
They shared fantasies.
Whispers of what could come next.
Plans of stolen weekends. Dreams of holding hands under streetlights. Her curled up in his hoodie. Him tracing kisses from her shoulders to her collarbone.
The night went on.
Their hearts, finally full.
Their bodies, awakened.
And their souls?
Twined tighter than ever.
- Writer
