He caught up to me at the door of the building, after we had successfully loaded one of his drunken friends into a taxi. I was going to ring to be let inside and he spun me around to catch my lips. It was slow and soft to begin with, heating up with every passing second. His 21-year old self knew how to kiss, that was sure. And my 17-year old self just couldn’t believe her luck.
From a purely technical standpoint, it was the perfect kiss. Settings were perfect, moment was ideally chosen to ensure that it went on uninterrupted.
Later that night, my lips were still tingling from that moment when my dad came to pick me up.

An entire universe of possibilities opened up as a rather large colony of butterflies took up residence in my stomach. Even now, so much time has passed but I still remember every detail of that night with perfect clarity.

I also remember a day not so long after. It was the beginning of the glory days of spring and we were going to graduate not too long from then, the sun shone on everything in sight. Only exams stood in the way of a perfect summer and then the freedom of higher education.

The sun was warming us up as we sat in the grass. My cellphone rang. It was the girl who had organized the party. In her slightly ironic, condescending tone, she informed me to just give it up, the kiss was just a bet to kiss the ugliest girl and honestly, wasn’t it just hilarious. I don’t remember much else beyond that, save for the way the sun felt on my skin at that very moment. Warm, while a butterfly genocide was taking place. A warmth that never reached into my heart.