The problem wasn't that he kissed me.
The problem was that I closed my eyes.
And in that moment, I knew there was no going back.
I never wanted to be in that place.
The room was filled with people who smiled too much, talked too much, and pretended too much. Expensive dresses, flawless suits, glasses clinking as if happiness could be poured into crystal.
I didn't belong there.
And him… he definitely didn't either.
But there he was.
Leaning against a column, wearing that expression that said none of this matters to me. As if the whole world were a mediocre show he'd already seen a thousand times.
I shouldn't have looked at him.
But I did.
And he saw me too.
It wasn't a casual glance.
It was direct. Intense. Uncomfortably long.
Like he was reading me.
Like he knew something I didn't.
I felt the urge to look away, to pretend I didn't care… but I couldn't.
There was something about him.
Something dangerous.
Something that screamed trouble.
And still… I couldn't stop looking.
"Don't."
Valeria's voice pulled me out of it.
"What?"
"Looking at him like that," she said, leaning closer to me without dropping her smile for everyone else. "It's the worst idea you can have tonight."
I frowned.
"Do you know him?"
Valeria hesitated. That was already a bad sign.
"Enough to tell you to stay away."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"And I'm not going to answer it," she whispered. "Just… trust me. Don't get involved with him."
I looked back toward the column.
He was still there.
But now… he wasn't alone.
Two men were talking to him, but he didn't seem to be listening. His eyes were still on me.
As if the real conversation was happening between us.
Without words.
"Too late," I muttered.
Valeria sighed.
"I warned you."
I tried to focus on the conversation, the music, anything that wasn't him.
But it was impossible.
I could feel his gaze.
Heavy.
Constant.
Like an invisible hand running through every thought in my head.
And the worst part…
was that I didn't mind.
That's what scared me the most.
"I'm getting some air," I said suddenly, setting my glass down on a table.
"Don't go alone," Valeria replied immediately.
But I was already walking away.
I didn't want to think.
I didn't want to feel.
I just needed a second of silence.
The balcony was almost empty.
The cold night air hit my face, and for a moment, everything settled.
I took a deep breath.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
"You should listen to your friend."
I froze completely.
That voice…
I didn't need to turn around to know it was him.
"I don't usually listen to warnings without explanations," I replied, trying to stay calm.
"That's going to get you into trouble."
"Maybe I like trouble."
Silence.
A step.
Then another.
I could feel him getting closer.
"No," he said finally, his voice lower now. "You have no idea what you're saying."
I turned around.
And there he was.
Closer than I expected.
Closer than was safe.
He was even more dangerous up close.
His eyes weren't just intense… they were dark. Deep. Like they were hiding things that should never come to light.
Invisible scars.
Or maybe not so invisible.
"Then explain it to me," I said, crossing my arms to hide the slight tremor in my hands.
He let out a short laugh, humorless.
"It doesn't work like that."
"How does it work, then?"
"You walk away," he said bluntly. "And pretend you never saw me."
That… wasn't what I expected.
"That's it?"
"It's the only thing that's good for you."
"And what if I don't want to?"
His gaze shifted.
Just slightly.
But enough.
"Then you're going to regret it."
It wasn't a threat.
It was worse.
It was a promise.
"You don't seem like someone who does what's good for her," he added, studying me too closely.
"And you don't seem like someone who gives good advice."
Another pause.
Another tension.
Another line being crossed without either of us naming it.
"Are you always like this?" he asked.
"Like what?"
"Like nothing matters to you."
I smiled faintly.
"Are you always like this?"
"Like what?"
"Like everything bores you."
This time, he smiled.
And that was a mistake.
Because something inside me shifted.
Hard.
Dangerous.
Irreversible.
"You should go," he said again.
But he didn't sound so sure anymore.
"And you should stop telling me what to do."
"I'm not used to repeating myself."
"I'm not used to obeying."
One step closer.
I don't know who moved first.
Maybe both of us.
"This isn't a game," he murmured.
"I never said it was."
"Then stop acting like there are no consequences."
"And what are they?"
Silence.
His jaw tightened.
His eyes dropped for a second to my lips.
And that's when I knew it was already too late.
"Me," he said finally. "I'm the consequence."
He shouldn't have said that.
Or maybe he should have.
Because that was what broke everything.
I didn't think.
Didn't analyze.
Didn't weigh the risks.
I just acted.
"Then it's worth it."
And I kissed him.
It was a mistake.
The worst one.
The best one.
The only one I didn't want to fix.
For a second, he didn't respond.
Like he hadn't expected it.
Like he didn't know what to do.
But then…
He grabbed me.
Hard.
Too hard.
And kissed me back.
It wasn't soft.
It wasn't sweet.
It was desperate.
Intense.
Almost violent.
Like he'd been holding himself back for too long.
Like I was the spark that lit something that should've never burned.
My hands found his jacket without me realizing.
His breathing turned uneven.
So did mine.
And the world… disappeared.
Until he pulled away abruptly.
"Damn it."
The word came out like it hurt.
Like he had just made an irreversible mistake.
"What's wrong?" I asked, still breathless.
He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.
"This shouldn't have happened."
"But it did."
"You don't understand."
"Then make me understand."
He shook his head.
"I can't."
"You don't want to."
"It's not the same thing."
"It is to me."
He looked at me.
And for the first time…
He seemed vulnerable.
"If I tell you to stay away," he said slowly, "it's not because of me."
"Then who?"
He didn't answer.
But he didn't need to.
"There's someone else," I murmured.
His eyes hardened.
"It's not that."
"Then explain it."
"I can't."
"Always the same."
"Because it's the truth."
He stepped back.
And I felt the distance immediately.
"Forget this," he said.
"I can't."
"You'll have to."
"I don't want to."
Silence.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Painful.
"You're going to destroy yourself," he murmured.
"Wouldn't be the first time."
"I'm not joking."
"Neither am I."
I saw him hesitate.
Just for a second.
But it was enough.
"Why me?" I asked. "Why do you care?"
That question…
That was the most dangerous one of all.
Because he didn't have an answer.
And that said more than any words ever could.
"This ends here," he said finally, taking a step back.
"It hasn't even started."
"Exactly."
"Then you can't end it."
"Watch me."
He turned.
Just like that.
No explanation.
No goodbye.
And he left.
I stayed there.
With the cold.
With the silence.
With the taste of his kiss still on my lips.
And with a certainty that hit harder than any warning:
I wasn't going to forget him.
Because the problem wasn't that he kissed me.
The problem was that…
If he looked at me like that again,
I would do it again.
And this time…
there would be no stopping it.