I got drunk and kissed my worst enemy

It sounds ridiculous now, like something you’d laugh about later. But at the time, it wasn’t funny. It was terrifying. Because that enemy had always been the one person I swore I’d never get close to again.

Nathan Hale — the guy who knew exactly how to get under my skin. Sharp tongue, sharper eyes, and that strange habit of being kind only when no one was watching.

After that night, I panicked. I didn’t wait for consequences. Didn’t even pack properly. I just left — boarded the first flight I could afford and fled to Europe. For three years, I built my life from scratch, far from his reach, far from that mistake.

I only dared to come back when I heard he had a girlfriend.

A girlfriend meant he’d moved on. It meant he’d forgotten that kiss.

Or so I thought.

Because the night I returned home, still jet-lagged and half-unpacked, the door creaked open behind me. A familiar voice — deep, cold, too close — shattered my peace.

“You think you can just play around and leave?”

My body froze. My heart stuttered.

Nathan.

He stood there, tall as ever, a shadow dressed in a black suit that clung to him like sin. The faint smell of smoke and something musky — something him — filled the air.

“Plus,” he added, stepping forward, “who runs to wash their hands after being touched by someone they like?”

I swallowed hard.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I muttered, but my voice came out shaky.

He leaned in, lips brushing close to my ear, his breath warm.

“Lucas. Respond to me.”

It wasn’t a request. It was a command, quiet and dangerous. His words slid through me like electricity, making my brain short-circuit.

Tingles shot through my body, each one tearing at my rational thoughts. For a split second, I didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe.

And then—

Ding-dong.

The doorbell rang. Reality snapped back in place.

I stumbled back, horrified. Had I really just closed my eyes? Like I was waiting for him to…

No. Absolutely not.

“Dude, I’m straight,” I muttered to myself, half convinced it was a spell I needed to chant.

Nathan said nothing, but the corner of his mouth lifted, like he’d heard me anyway.

How could one kiss from a guy mess me up this badly? Especially from him, the same man who once made my life miserable. And he had a girlfriend now. That made me what — some kind of homewrecker?

I glared at him, muttering, “Scumbag.”

He winced when I kicked his shin under the table.

“Still violent, huh?”

“Truce for now,” I said flatly. “Whatever you came here for, wait till I’m full.”

To my surprise, he listened. He walked to the window, lighting a cigarette, the orange glow outlining the sharp edges of his face.

Smoke curled lazily around him as he stared out, silent — occasionally glancing my way.

And of course, I looked back.

He’d changed. Taller, broader, colder. The faint muscles under his shirt moved every time he exhaled. He looked like someone you didn’t want to mess with — and exactly the kind of person who could ruin you without meaning to.

If we actually fought… I looked at my own arms. Nope. Not a chance.

The most urgent thing was getting Nathan to leave. Because if he decided to “settle” whatever he thought I owed him, I’d be done for.

When I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, his gaze flicked toward me.

“What are you staring at?” I snapped.

“I kissed you a few times,” he said simply. “You bit my lip. Shouldn’t that make us even?”

I blinked. “Even?!”

He stubbed out his cigarette, walked over, and grabbed a napkin. Without asking, he wiped the corner of my mouth, his touch slow, deliberate.

“The debts between us go way beyond that,” he said softly, almost too close. Then he started unbuttoning his jacket.

My chopsticks nearly slipped from my hand.

“W-what else do you want? Look, I just have a big mouth, okay? Don’t take it personally.”

“Your mouth’s pretty tough,” he murmured with a small chuckle. “Makes sense though. You like being bullied.”

“Excuse me?”

“Can’t tell right from wrong,” he continued. “And when things get hard, you just run instead of solving them.”

Why was he bringing up old stuff again? So annoying.

Three years ago, when he found out I was leaving the country, he didn’t talk to me for half a month. Then one day, he showed up at my desk.

“Will going abroad solve your problems?” he’d asked.

“You planning to never come back?”

I knew what he meant — my father.

“Lucas,” he’d said back then, grabbing my arm, “accept my help. Cut ties with him. No one will ever hit you again.”

I’d shaken him off, laughing bitterly. Two teenagers still depending on their parents, talking about cutting ties? It was absurd.

But now, staring at him — that same intensity burning in his eyes — I wondered if he’d actually meant every word.

⸻

The air was heavy. Like it remembered us.

Nathan didn’t say anything else for a long time. Just stood there, staring, like I was something he was trying to figure out whether to break or put back together. His jacket hung over the back of a chair, his shirt sleeves rolled up, veins like electric wires under his skin.

I hated how easy it was to be scared of him.

“Why are you here?” I finally asked, gripping my chopsticks like they were weapons.

His eyes flickered. “You really don’t know?”

The way he said it made something tighten in my chest.

“It better not be about that drunk kiss,” I muttered. “Because I don’t remember it. So just—”

“You remember it,” Nathan cut in, voice sharp. “You remember everything.”

The weight of it pinned me to my seat. If I denied it, he’d only push harder. If I admitted it… I didn’t want to think about what he’d do.

So instead: “You have a girlfriend now. Shouldn’t you be harassing her?”

He didn’t even blink. “That’s what you think?”

Something unsettling stirred behind his eyes — a coldness deeper than anger.

“I heard you did,” I said, shrugging, as if it didn’t matter. “That’s why I came back. I thought…”

I trailed off, suddenly too embarrassed to finish.

Nathan leaned in just enough for me to see the faint scar near his lip — the one I might’ve caused.

“You thought I’d forgotten you,” he murmured.

I didn’t reply.

He took a slow breath, his voice dropping like a threat wrapped in silk. “There’s no girlfriend, Lucas. There never was.”

My heart thudded.

“What?”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

“No—no way. I heard it from Leah’s cousin. She said you were dating someone named Rina—”

He stepped closer. “You really think I’d bother with someone else… after that night?”

I stood up so fast the chair scraped loud against the floor. “Stop. Don’t turn this into something it wasn’t.”

“But it was,” Nathan replied quietly. “And I’m tired of pretending it wasn’t.”

His voice — usually sharp, teasing, or cruel — sounded raw. Honest. Like a confession he didn’t know how to make.

My pulse raced. The room felt too small. Walls too close. Him too close.

“…I’m going to sleep,” I said, brushing past him, because I desperately needed distance. Needed a pause to shut my brain off. Nathan didn’t stop me. But his words followed me like footsteps in the dark.

“You ran away from the kiss. You’re still running now.”

I slammed the bedroom door behind me.

⸻

I woke up drenched in sweat.

Had it all been a dream? Was Nathan even really here?

No. He was. I could still smell the faint trace of his cologne on the hallway air.

And his jacket.

His jacket was still draped over a chair. Meaning he hadn’t left. Meaning he was somewhere in this house — quiet, watching, waiting. Like a shadow I couldn’t get rid of.

It was only 6AM. The sun was just beginning to rise.

I crept toward the kitchen, thinking I could eat alone. Avoid whatever lecture he was planning for me next.

But there he was. Already awake. Leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee in hand, black and steaming.

He glanced up when he heard me.

“You sleep like you’re running from something.”

“Good morning to you too,” I muttered, heading for the fridge.

Silence settled between us, thick and strange.

Then, as I reached for an apple, Nathan spoke.

“I didn’t come here to hurt you.”

My hand paused.

I turned—slow.

“Then what did you come for?”

He didn’t look away.

“To collect what you owe me.”

My heart clenched like a fist.

“What do you mean?”

Nathan placed his cup down too slowly. His eyes held mine like he was reading every thought behind them.

“Three years ago, you stole something from me,” he said.

“It’s time I took it back.”

I stared at him like he’d spoken a language I didn’t understand.

“I stole something from you?” I repeated, my voice sharp and disbelieving. “What, your pride?”

Nathan didn’t react to the jab. He just looked at me — like he was waiting for me to remember something I’d forgotten.

“You don’t get to run from this again, Lucas,” he said, low and deadly calm.

“You owe me.”

My chest tightened. A flash of fear — or anger — shot down my spine like a drop of ice.

“What do you want then?” I snapped. “Closure? An apology? My firstborn? Say something that makes sense.”

Nathan took a step toward me, but stopped just out of reach.

“I don’t want an apology,” he murmured. “I don’t want closure.”

His tone shifted, something brittle beneath its edge.

“I want the truth.”

My throat dried.

“Truth about what?”

“About that night,” he answered.

“That kiss wasn’t an accident. Not for you.”

I went cold.

“You’re seriously delusional,” I said, forcing a scoff. “I was drunk. It meant nothing.”

His jaw clenched.

“You kissed me like you were drowning.”

I froze, heart slamming against my ribs.

“I don’t remember.”

“You do.”

Silence hung between us like a slow-burning fuse.

I turned away, grabbing the nearest thing — a glass — just to have something in my hand.

Nathan spoke again, and the softness in his voice struck harder than any threat.

“You avoided me for weeks after that. Then you left the country overnight. Don’t tell me it meant nothing.”

I gripped the counter.

“You had a girlfriend,” I snapped. “I heard it from Leah. I wasn’t going to get in the way of your… relationship.”

Nathan blinked. And then — he laughed. It wasn’t amused. It was sharp and cold, like metal.

“So that’s what you thought,” he said quietly. “That I had a girlfriend.”

“Was I wrong?” I fired back.

He stepped toward me slowly, like he was approaching a wounded animal.

“The only rumor was the one I started — because you refused to talk to me. I needed to get your attention. And it worked.”

“What—”

My words died. He was serious.

I’d run away because I thought I was intruding. I spent years believing he’d moved on, found someone else, forgotten me. Meanwhile, he…

“You started that rumor?” I asked, voice uneven.

Nathan nodded, gaze unwavering.

“I wanted to see if it mattered to you.”

“And it did.”

The unspoken words hung in the air like smoke.

The worst part? He was right.

I couldn’t breathe.

“I shouldn’t be here,” I muttered. “This was a mistake.”

I moved toward the door.

Nathan moved faster.

His hand caught my wrist — not tight, but firm enough to stop me.

“Running again?”

I yanked my hand, but he didn’t let go.

“Let me go, Nathan.”

“No.”

His eyes were burning now.

“We’re done ignoring this.”

When I finally pulled free, my hand stung where he’d touched. I took a shaky step back.

“Just tell me what you want,” I said. “Right now.”

The words trembled, but I didn’t care. I was tired.

Nathan stared at me for a long moment. Then, with a soft exhale, he said something I didn’t expect.

“I want to understand why you kissed me if you were planning to run.”

Something snapped in me.

“Because I was hurting!” I blurted.

“Because my dad— because everything was falling apart and you were the only person who made it stop for a second and I hated that. I hated that so much I ran halfway across the world to get away from it.”

The confession tore out of me — and hung in the air like a wound.

Nathan didn’t speak. He didn’t move.

I felt exposed.

Stupid.

Fragile.

Like I’d just given him the perfect weapon.

“Now you know,” I said bitterly. “Congratulations.”

That’s when he did something I never saw coming.

Nathan reached up — slowly, gently — and placed his palm against my cheek. I flinched, but he didn’t push. Just… touched me.

“Lucas,” he whispered, and I hated how soft my name sounded coming from him.

“You never stole anything from me. You gave something. Even if you didn’t mean to.”

I stared at him — confused, scared, angry — but I didn’t pull away.

“You kissed me,” Nathan said calmly.

“And I never got the chance to kiss you back.”

My breath hitched.

For a moment, the world was silent.

And then—

BANG BANG BANG.

Someone was at the door.

Nathan let his hand fall.

“I’ll get it,” he murmured.

As he walked past me, I pressed my fingers to my cheek — still warm where he’d touched me.

“You never got the chance to kiss me back.”

What the hell was happening to me?