A while later, I stumbled out of the hall - mildly tipsy - with Harold in tow. It was misty and dark outside, the streetlights softly but barely lighting up the street. My shoes clacked loudly against the cobblestone, my head thrown back in laughter over god knows what Harold had said. He made some of the worst jokes - dad jokes - yet for a reason unknown to me I laughed at them. I'd only known him for a few hours but he was easy to talk to, to have as company. I feel as if I've known him for decades.
His obnoxiously loud laugh accompanied mine as I watched him stumble over to me, his eyes glassy due to the alcohol. Abruptly, he stopped in front of me, our laughter automatically dying down. Our breaths barely showed in the crisp, cold air. I could just about see his figure through the mist. I could faintly feel the exhale of his breaths. "Hi" I breathed, my lungs felt heavy, taking in breaths of air felt like a chore. His lips impulsively touched mine, I allowed it for a few seconds until reality dawned on me. "We can't..." I mumbled distraughtly against his lips, my hands on his firm chest. I stepped back slightly dazed. H-He just kissed me? Am I gay? Well, I knew I had some sort of attraction to men, I had never been against the idea of being with a man - I liked to consider myself open - minded? But does this change anything? Is he not the same as me? What if he's disgusted? What if he's a policeman in disguise?
I hesitantly raised my eyes up to his and then I saw it...there was the missing piece...