Warfare Augmented Intelligent Frame Unit

Chapter 92 - Swimming with Fireworks

Chapter 92 - Swimming with Fireworks

I know what you've all been waiting for.

Believe me, I waited for it too. The moment felt inevitable, like gravity pulling us together. I even pushed my lips forward as soon as we both closed our eyes, anticipation tightening my chest. Myrrh's warm breath tickled my skin, soft and rhythmic—so close that I could feel every subtle shift in the air between us.

Then, the fireworks erupted. Midnight had arrived. The Xyraxis New Year. Behind my closed eyelids, brilliant flashes painted the darkness, bursts of gold and violet streaking the sky. The distant thunder of explosions rattled the atmosphere, as if the entire world was celebrating this moment with us.

But the kiss never came.

Instead, sharp pressure seized my nose, cutting off my breath. My lungs strained in sudden desperation, and I gasped, eyes flying open.

Myrrh's face filled my vision—her long yellow-green hair catching glimmers of firework light, her cheeks flushed with warmth, her lips curled into a teasing, impish smile. She had stopped just short of the kiss, hovering there, her fingers pinching my nose in a cruel but playful assault.

"Ack!" I choked out, flailing slightly.

"Stupid." Myrrh giggled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I'm not wicked enough to steal your first kiss. That should be saved for someone you love."

She finally released my nose, letting me suck in a breath—just before she leaned in again. A quick, featherlight press against my left cheek. A smack, yet soft and damp, her lips lingering just enough to send heat rushing to my face. Instinctively, my fingers flew up, touching the spot as if I could trap the feeling there forever.

I turned to her, pouting, my face undoubtedly red.

"Ha! Caught you off-guard, didn't I?" Myrrh snickered, stepping back triumphantly. "Did you really think I'd kiss a goon like you?"

"You always find new ways to disappoint me." I grumbled, crossing my arms.

Myrrh smirked, flicking her long lime-blonde hair with a dramatic flourish. "Well, unless I'm your first love, you're not getting my kiss." Her navy blue eyes sparkled with challenge. "So go ahead—confess."

"W-what!?" I sputtered, my heart lurching. "Why the hell would I confess to you? We're enemies, remember? There's no way—no way—I could ever fall in love with you!"

The words tumbled out, sharp and unfiltered, fueled by sheer panic. Maybe it was the embarrassment. Maybe it was the lingering disappointment. Or maybe—just maybe—I was trying to convince myself more than her.

Because the truth was, I had never been in love before. Not really. As an involuntary celibate, I was well acquainted with fleeting infatuations and shallow attractions. I knew what it was like to be captivated by a cute smile or an alluring figure, but love? That magical, all-consuming feeling? That was foreign territory.

Sure, Myrrh and I had become friends. Sure, I sometimes felt an uncomfortable pang of jealousy when she was with her new support unit partner. But that didn't mean I was in love with her. Right? It was too soon. Too absurd.

Yet, as my words settled in the space between us, Myrrh's expression twisted into a pout, her lips pursing ever so slightly.

"Fine then," she huffed, turning her nose up. "Not like I'd accept your love anyway! I'd definitely reject you! I'm way out of your league, you goon!"

"As if I'd ever confess to an all-boobs-but-gunpowder-brained hoe like you!" I shot back, my face burning, the heat creeping all the way to my ears.

This back-and-forth squabble made us realize something—we were both ridiculously immature. A single glance at each other was all it took before laughter bubbled up, raw and unrestrained.