I bought a new perfume that night. It smelled sweet, like a million flower petals floating effortlessly to the earth, with a dash of spice, as if somebody oh so delicately sprinkled it like fairy dust on the petals. I spritzed myself a few times, and I smiled, not even knowing what I was beaming about.

Later on, you gave me something to smile about.
    

     I don’t even know what happened, really. I mean, then again, do either of us even know what happened? Maybe we don’t have to know why it happened; maybe it just happened. I can barely recall the events leading up to it, and maybe that’s because the moment your hands touched me, the rest of the world stopped turning.
    

     I remember you pulling me close. Neither of us even said anything. You just pulled me closer, closer, closer, making sure that your hands didn’t disconnect from me for a second. And then you drew in. My heart jumped and suddenly my insides turned to mush and I could feel my body temperature rising. Should I lean in, too? I didn’t think there was a correct answer to that question, and at that moment, I wasn’t sure whether you were or were not drawing closer to kiss me. So, afraid, I moved your hands that were resting on my hips and intertwined our fingers together, holding your hand until both of us were forced to let go.
    

     Now, let me tell you, that encounter shocked me. It scared me. But it made me feel something. For minutes after, my heart was beating so fast that I was afraid you could hear it palpitating in my chest. But maybe yours was doing the same thing. Maybe you were as breathless and confused and surprised and elated as I was.
    

     And again, we had another moment where it felt like time stopped. This time, though, it felt like gravity ceased to exist as well—I felt weightless. It started out the same: you pulling me close, drawing in, creating a fire within me. You pressed your forehead against mine, and this time I didn’t draw away. Your hands snaked around my waist, and you pulled me even closer. But how much closer could we possibly get? Skin was already on skin. There was a look in your eyes, one that I had never seen before. I probably had the same glimmer dancing in mine. But then your eyes flickered to my lips, and I realized what was about to happen.

“Are you going to kiss me?” I asked. I’m not sure if I was gazing into your eyes or gaping down at your lips.

“Do you want me to?” you whispered, and I’m not sure if you were gazing into my eyes or gaping down at my lips.

“Do you want to?” I breathed.
    

     We got closer. But you backed away slightly, so then I did, too. Your hands were still around me and my heart was still beating in time with yours and I don’t think either of us knew what to do. I was confused, but I was almost too jubilant to feel the confusion. Almost.  But I wasn’t puzzled for long, because that’s when it happened. We leaned in once again, but this time neither of us drew away. We kissed.
    

     My lips felt like home pressed against yours. I didn’t know what I was doing. Honestly, though, I didn’t care. Once your lips touched mine, every single thought in my mind disappeared, except, of course, for the thought of you. I remember the taste of your lips, the heat from your breath, the connection we had. And I wonder if you remember, too. Do you remember how it felt? Do you remember holding me so close that it was like we were one being rather than two? Do you remember how my lips tasted?
    

     We stayed like that. We stayed connected, almost intertwined, for as long as we could. We were close, closer than we’ve ever been.
    

     And I wonder if you noticed. I wonder if you noticed that I had bought a new perfume that night, one whose scent was like a million flower petals glazed over with a sprinkle of spice. I wonder if you noticed that I spritzed it on my neck and wrists. I wonder if you noticed the sweet aroma slowly evaporating from my body into the air as we kissed.

Or did you notice nothing else besides the feeling of us and the taste of our lips?