I am 15 chapters ahead on my patreón, check it out if you are interested.
https://www.patréon.com/emperordragon
________________________________________
Chapter 60: The Kiss That Changed Everything
Jon's Perspective
Jon didn't remember moving.
One moment he was standing alone in the bathroom, still replaying the awkward end to his conversation with Sam. The next, her hands were gripping his collar, and her lips were on his.
Everything else disappeared.
The world fell away. Time slowed. The sterile tile walls, the faint buzz of fluorescent lights, the lingering scent of citrus cleaner—none of it mattered. All that mattered was her.
Sam kissed like she was trying to rewrite time.
Like she could take back the pain and the silence and the ache of the past few days with just her lips.
And Jon?
Jon responded in kind.
He kissed her back with everything he had, because he'd missed her more than he was willing to admit. Because the sight of her sitting alone at that table had felt like someone carved a hollow space inside his chest.
And now, with her pressed against him, all of that vanished.
This kiss wasn't soft. It wasn't sweet. It was raw. Unfiltered. Real.
It was the kiss.
The kind that rewires your bones and etches itself into your memory so deep it becomes part of your DNA.
Jon had been kissed before. But never like this.
Never like her.
Then—
BRRNNNNGGG!!
The bell exploded through the air like a bomb, jerking Jon back to reality.
Reluctantly, he tried to pull back.
"Sam—" he whispered between breaths, "the bell rang."
She didn't care.
She pulled him back in, her fingers curling behind his neck, anchoring herself to him. Her lips crashed against his again, even harder.
He smiled into the kiss, breath stolen again.
But finally—finally—he leaned back, forehead against hers, still trying to catch his breath.
"We have to stop," he murmured, his voice low, almost regretful. "Class is starting. Any longer and the principal's going to send a search party."
Sam let out a small laugh, a sound that made his chest ache in the best way.
She gave a reluctant nod, her hand sliding down his chest before she stepped back. But even as she walked toward the door, she looked back at him—and the fire in her eyes hadn't dimmed one bit.
Jon stood there, breathless, watching her leave.
Only once the door closed behind her did he exhale fully, trying to process what had just happened. He leaned back against the sink, ran a hand through his hair, and took a deep, steadying breath.
That kiss...
That kiss had changed everything.
He shook his head, chuckled softly to himself, and finally pushed the door open.
Time to get to class.
Jon sat at his desk, textbook open in front of him, pen in hand… and not a single thought in his head had anything to do with the lecture.
His body was in class.
His mind?
Still in that bathroom.
More specifically, still wrapped in that kiss.
He couldn't stop smiling. His cheek muscles were starting to ache from the permanent grin stretching across his face. He probably looked like a lunatic—or at least someone who had just inhaled a balloon full of laughing gas.
But he didn't care.
His mind kept replaying the kiss. The way Sam's lips had moved like she was pouring every ounce of emotion into it. The way her fingers gripped his shirt like she was afraid he'd vanish. The way her eyes—when they finally parted—had been burning with something too complex to name.
It had been overwhelming, wild, beautiful, surreal.
He was still high off it.
But as the minutes ticked by and the teacher's voice droned on like white noise, the high began to fade. Not all at once. Just… chipped away by creeping thoughts.
What did the kiss mean?
What does this means of their relationship?
Were they still on a break?
Was it the start of something again—or the end disguised as passion?
Jon blinked, the smile flickering for the first time.
What if it was goodbye?
A last kiss. A farewell masquerading as intensity.
He clenched his jaw, shaking his head. No.
Sam wouldn't have kissed him like that—wouldn't have looked at him like that—if she meant for it to end.
Right?
Still, the questions wouldn't stop. His head felt like a war zone between hope and fear. Emotionally, he was bouncing like a pinball between the two.
Jon inhaled through his nose and slowly exhaled.
Calm down.
He wasn't going to let wild speculation hijack his mind. Not now. He'd talk to Sam. Face to face. No more distance. No more guessing.
But each second felt like an hour.
He tapped his pen. He drummed his fingers. He bounced his knee. Time, stubborn as ever, refused to cooperate.
And finally—finally—the last bell rang.
Jon grabbed his bag, packed his things at record speed, and practically shot out of his seat.
He weaved through the classroom door into the crowded hallway, scanning the sea of students.
Then he saw her.
Sam. A few feet away. Standing still in the flow of students like the eye of a storm.
Their eyes met.