My first thought was that I was too short. I had to get up on my tiptoes to kiss him back, but his hand dropped to my waist and he steadied me.
Did he know I had crap balance?
He didn't pull away either. My mind moved quickly from thoughts of "wahey!", to panic. Maybe I was just... scaring him? Maybe he didn't want to upset me?
Then I realised his other hand had dropped the packet of fags and he had his fingers trailing up my side. He tasted smoky, a little bit weird, but he had been chewing gum too, I could taste the mint on his lips. His warmth was a little intimidating, but I wasn't going to pull away just yet.
Thirty seconds later, we broke apart and looked at each other, he tilted his head and I frowned slightly.
"That was..." I couldn't find the word.
"Rebellious?" He smirked, and I fought back a smile. "Well, perhaps rebellious is too strong a word for such a simple act..." There was a short pause, "If I asked for your number, or..." His face took on a neat shade of pink, "If I asked you out..."
"That would be rebellious."
"Oh, I know. I might even teach you to smoke." He laughed. I doubted I'd let him let me near them again, though. "Well, maybe not. I wouldn't want your premature death on my hands."
I laughed and he bit his bottom lip slightly, I caught sight of the fag packet in the corner of my eye and crouched down to pick it up at the same time as he did. We looked at each other and laughed lightly, straightening up at the same time.
He made me feel comfortable.
He made me feel rebellious.