RED NOTES AND KISSES-Chapter 51: LAZ -

Frida’s room smelled of lavender, the faint breeze carrying the soft floral scent through the open window.

The golden hues of sunset painted her pale walls, creating an atmosphere so serene it felt almost like a dream.

They sat cross-legged on the plush rug in their rolling chairs, their physics textbooks sprawled open in front of them on the table.

Frida, animated and oblivious, was busy explaining a concept to Laz with the kind of energy he secretly adored.

She was so expressive, her brows furrowing and lips pursing as she scribbled notes on her pad.

He wasn’t even paying attention to her words anymore, he just watched the way her mouth moved, the sparkle in her brown eyes, and how the corners of her lips quirked up when she thought she’d solved something.

"I think I got it this time!" she exclaimed, beaming at him.

Laz leaned back on his hands, grinning. "You’re always correct..." He let the pause linger just long enough to make her curious, then added, "...but the answer’s actually wrong."

Her triumphant smile vanished in an instant, replaced by a scowl. "Are you serious?" she groaned, swatting his arm with her notebook. "Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I was feeling so smart explaining that to you!"

Laz chuckled, his grin widening. "I didn’t want to ruin your moment. You looked happy."

"You’re so annoying," she muttered, glaring at him.

He reached forward, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face with a gentleness that surprised even him. "You’re actually smart, you know. Pretty and funny too."

The compliment lingered in the air between them, heavier than he’d intended.

Frida blinked, her lips parting as though she were about to say something, but no words came out.

Instead, she placed her palm on his forehead, her touch warm and intimate. "Are you okay, Laz?" she asked, her voice tinged with suspicion. "You’ve been acting so strange lately."

"Like what?" he asked, his tone neutral, though his heart raced as he leaned ever so slightly into her hand.

She pulled her hand back, returning her attention to her book. "I don’t know, but you’ve been... nicer. It’s weird. You’re usually such a douche."

He laughed, the sound deep and rich. "What, don’t you like it? Should I go back to being mean to you?"

Frida squirmed in her seat, her cheeks tinged pink. "Not mean, but... you never say things like that." Her voice faltered, her blush deepening as she avoided his gaze.

Laz’s mischievous side kicked in, and before she could move, he spun her rolling chair to face him, pulling her closer until her knees brushed against his.

His lips quirked into a smirk as he studied her flushed face. "And why do you think I’m saying stuff like that, hmm?"

"I don’t know." Her voice was barely a whisper now, her lashes lowering in an effort to avoid the intensity of his stare. "Maybe you’re just hungry..."

That made him laugh again, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers down her spine. "Yeah, I’m hungry alright," he said, his gaze flickering from her eyes to her lips.

She shifted nervously. "W-would you like ice cream?" she squeaked, her voice high-pitched and unsteady.

"You’re so silly," Laz murmured, his voice dropping an octave. Unable to resist teasing her further, he reached out and gave her hair a playful tug.

Frida gasped, her hand flying to her head. "What the hell, Laz? Are you bloody eight?" She grabbed her notebook and began swatting him with it, her indignation only fueling his amusement.

"Calm down, it was just a joke!" he said, laughing as he dodged her attempts to hit him. But Frida was relentless, chasing him around the room, her giggles filling the space like music.

Eventually, Laz turned sharply and caught her mid-swing, pulling her toward him.

They toppled onto the bed in a heap, her hair spilling across his chest as they both caught their breath.

She didn’t stop there, though, she grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging hard enough to make him wince.

"There," she said triumphantly, her cheeks flushed and her eyes shining. "Now we’re even."

Her victory was short-lived. The moment she realized their position, her straddling his hips, his hands resting firmly on her waist, her confidence faltered.

Her blush deepened, and she scrambled to move, but Laz’s hands tightened their hold ever so slightly.

"Don’t," he said, his voice low and husky.

Frida froze, her wide eyes meeting his. "W-what?" she stammered, her voice barely audible.

"Don’t move." His gaze burned into hers, intense and unyielding. His pulse pounded in his ears, and he wondered if she could hear it too.

"Laz..." she whispered, her lips trembling.

"Go out with me," he blurted out, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them.

Frida’s eyes widened in shock. "I... I don’t understand."

"Me neither," he admitted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "But I can’t stop thinking about you, Frida. I can’t stop feeling like this when I’m around you."

Her breath hitched, her hands gripping his shirt as though it were the only thing grounding her. "Laz, are you... are you doing this for real? Or are you-"

"I’m not playing games," he interrupted, his voice firm. "I swear, Frida. This isn’t a joke."

The sincerity in his voice made her heart race.

She searched his eyes for any hint of mischief or insincerity, but all she found was raw, unfiltered emotion. "I-I don’t know what to say," she whispered.

"You don’t have to say anything," he said, his gaze dropping to her lips. "Just... let me do this."

Before she could protest, his lips were on hers.

The kiss was tentative at first, a gentle brush of lips that sent sparks coursing through their veins.

But as the seconds ticked by, it deepened, the intensity growing like a flame.

Frida’s hands slid up to his shoulders, clutching at him as though she were afraid he might pull away.

Laz’s hands moved to her back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

The world outside her room faded away, leaving only the two of them and the sound of their ragged breaths.

The kiss was everything and nothing like he’d imagine.

It was sweet and tender, yet filled with an undeniable hunger that left him dizzy.

When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested together, their breaths mingling in the charged silence.

"Laz..." she began, but he silenced her with a finger to her lips.

"Don’t overthink it," he said softly. "Just... let this be what it is."

She nodded, her cheeks flushed and her heart pounding.

As He looked into her eyes, he realized he didn’t need to overthink it too.

He didn’t want to play this game anymore.

Whatever this was, whatever it could be, He wanted it. He wanted her.

And in that moment, He knew there was no turning back.