The camera flashed once more, followed by a click.
And just as suddenly, he wasn't kissing her anymore. He cleared his throat and ruffled his hair. "There. That — there's the dirt you need. The tea. You can — just say I like kissing strangers."
She stared after him. But she wasn't paying attention to his retreating figure. Oh no. She was entirely focused on the erratic beating of her blasted heart that threatened to break her ribs. She failed to notice that he'd forgotten his empty cup behind. She was thinking about her clammy hands and oh god, did he feel the snot starting to drop from her nose?
With a mind of their own, her fingers brushed her lips. Which the cheesy romantic part of her was inclined to claim were tingling. As if she could still feel his mouth against hers.
In a daze, Na Jia packed up her things, tossed Doyoung's forgotten trash, and headed straight home.
And she was thinking about chapstick — his lips had felt dry.
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