𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 18+

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟑𝟏

This is my first attempt at writing a kissing scene, and I'm both excited and nervous to share it with you. I practiced a bit beforehand, but I understand if this chapter feels a bit messy or rushed—please bear with me. I also want to mention that this chapter will be shorter than usual, so I hope you enjoy what I've put together!

𝐌𝐈𝐀 𝐏𝐎𝐕

• • •

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟷 𝚝𝚑, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟹 - 𝟽 :𝟶𝟶 𝙿.𝙼.

I sat across from Professor Mikkelsen, nervously rambling on about his latest psychology lectures. My heart raced, and my fingers traced the edge of my notebook as I spoke, hoping I sounded at least half as intelligent as I thought he was. His lectures were always so fascinating, so full of depth. Every single word felt like an invitation to dive deeper into the human mind.

"You know, the way you talked about cognitive dissonance last week? How our minds twist facts to match what we want to believe, to reduce the discomfort of holding conflicting ideas—that was... incredible," I said, my voice shaky but excited.

I glanced at him, waiting for a sign of acknowledgment, but instead, his eyes were elsewhere—on his hand, which he flexed and studied like it was the most interesting thing in the room. My stomach flipped nervously. Am I not interesting enough?

Trying to push past the unease, I continued, even though my words were tumbling out faster than I meant them to. "And that part about trauma affecting memory? I can't stop thinking about how the brain rewires itself, how it's trying to protect us, even when it makes things worse sometimes. Like... Frank's case, for example. The way he—"

I paused, realizing I was rambling again. He hadn't moved, hadn't said a word, and I suddenly felt foolish. He's probably heard all of this a thousand times before.

I let out an awkward laugh, shifting in my seat. "I'm probably boring you to death, right? I should go and—"

He cut me off. "Stay."

The single word, quiet and insistent, stopped me cold. His voice was deep, calm—but there was something under it, something I couldn't quite place. A kind of urgency.

My breath caught. "I— I should go. You're busy, and I—"

"No," he said, standing as I fumbled with my bag. "Stay."

His tone wasn't demanding, but it wasn't a request, either. He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving mine now, like he'd finally snapped out of whatever trance he'd been in. I stood up quickly, my heart pounding as I moved toward the door, trying to create space between us. But he followed, every step closing the gap, his movements slow, deliberate.

"Professor, I don't want to—"

He was in front of me before I could finish, his body blocking the door, his hand coming up to rest against it. His other hand hovered just near my arm, hesitating to touch me, so close I could feel the heat radiating from his skin. He was everywhere, all at once, and suddenly the small office felt stifling, the air between us thick and buzzing with something unspoken.

My back pressed against the door, and his body leaned into mine—not roughly, but enough that I could feel every inch of him. I gasped, my breath catching in my throat. He wasn't looking at me the way he used to in class, all detached and cool. Now, his eyes were dark, searching mine with a kind of intensity that made my legs feel weak.