No End

Chapter 2 – The Kiss That Changed Everything
Her eyes were still on me. Wide, steady, unblinking. I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t look away. For a moment, the whole classroom was just her and me—her notebook pressed to her chest, my heart pounding in my ears.
And then it happened. A shove from behind, one of the bullies’ last cruel laughs, and I stumbled forward. She moved too, just a step—and suddenly, impossibly, our lips met.
The world broke apart.
It wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t planned. But it felt like destiny had pushed us together. My chest burned, my head spun, and the laughter of the bullies faded into silence.
Her hand—warm, trembling just a little—rose to my cheek. Instead of pulling away, she pressed me closer. My knees weakened, the floor seemed to vanish, and the kiss deepened. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t clumsy. It was long, tender, as if she had been waiting for this moment too.
And in that instant, I wasn’t in a classroom anymore. I was in a garden. Sunlight dripped through branches, butterflies danced around us in swirls of color, and the air itself seemed to hum. She wasn’t just a girl. She was a butterfly—fragile, beautiful, impossible to hold, yet somehow here, in my arms.
When our lips finally parted, I was breathless, dazed. My cheeks burned hotter than fire, and I couldn’t even meet her eyes. But before either of us could speak, a sharp cough broke the spell.
Our teacher stood at the back, clearing the desk, pretending not to see—but her gaze flicked toward us, knowing, warning. I froze. Panic shot through me, and I turned, walking fast, almost running.
“Wait—” her voice called softly behind me.
But I didn’t stop. My chest hurt too much. My heart was too loud. I couldn’t face her—not after that.
That night, lying on my bed, I replayed it a hundred times. My first kiss. My best kiss. I had kissed others later in life, but none of them mattered. None of them carried the weight, the fire, the innocence of this one. It was pure, impossible, unforgettable.
She was my butterfly.
And as my eyes finally closed, I drifted into sleep, not knowing I was about to wake somewhere else—a place with no doors, no clocks, no way out.A place where she was waiting.
When I opened my eyes, I wasn’t in my bed.
The ceiling above me was strange—plain white, no fan, no lights, no window. Just emptiness. I turned my head, and my entire body froze.
Aya.
She was there, right beside me, sleeping softly, her breath brushing against my skin. And then I realized—our lips were touching. Not just lightly, but joined, as if we had fallen asleep like this.
My heart slammed so hard in my chest I thought it might break through my ribs. I didn’t move. I couldn’t. Every nerve screamed at me to pull away, but another part of me whispered to stay. To feel it just a moment longer.
This was my first time waking up like this. Innocent, terrifying, unreal. And yet… beautiful.
Suddenly, Aya stirred. Her lashes trembled, and then her eyes opened. For a second she didn’t react—until awareness dawned on her face. Her eyes widened, and she let out a startled cry.
“A-ah!” she gasped, jerking back, cheeks blazing red.
We both shot upright at the same time, our foreheads almost bumping. My hands gripped the sheets like lifelines. My voice refused to work, my chest tight with shock. Aya pressed her palms to her face, then turned away sharply.
“D-don’t look at me…” she whispered, her voice trembling.
That’s when I noticed—she wasn’t wearing anything. My own body turned to stone, heat rushing to my face until I thought I’d combust. I spun around instantly, staring at the empty wall like it was the most important thing in existence.
“I—I’m not looking!” I stammered, every word breaking. “I swear, I’m not!”
Silence filled the room, thick and suffocating, broken only by the sound of our breaths. My heart refused to calm, pounding louder with every second. The air between us was heavy, fragile, dangerous—like if I spoke too loudly, it would shatter.
Finally, her voice came, softer this time. “This… this place… where are we?”
I shook my head, my throat dry. “I don’t know. I just woke up here. But… it feels like…” I swallowed, the words catching in my chest. “…like time isn’t moving.”
She glanced at me then, her hair falling across her flushed face. “The clockless room,” she murmured. “A place with no time.”
The name sank into me. A room where time didn’t exist. Maybe that’s why my heartbeat felt endless. Why her nearness felt eternal.
I turned, just enough to see her eyes peeking through her hair. My voice came out quieter than a whisper. “If this is a dream… then it’s the most real thing I’ve ever felt.”
For a moment, Aya said nothing. Her hands lowered, and her lips curved into the faintest, shyest smile.
“Then…” she breathed, almost inaudible. “…don’t wake up.”
The words sank into me deeper than any kiss, deeper than the pounding of my heart. I stared at her, stunned, lost, and utterly alive.
And in that moment, I realized—this wasn’t just a room. This was the beginning of something I couldn’t name yet.
But whatever it was, I never wanted it to end.