It was too embarrassing an attempt to be called a kiss, but it was as intense as a hurricane for a girl and a boy with no experience. The two, who had been rubbing their lips together awkwardly, instinctively dug deep in search of a sweeter sensation.
Their lips opened and their tongues tangled together. The slurring sounds were strange. There were times when they were clumsy and hasty, so they bit hard, but even that made them feel ecstatic. Flaming passion rose from everywhere they were touching, not just from their intertwined lips.
The two, who had been lost in each other’s lips without knowing the passage of time, came to their senses only after the midnight bell rang.
Enoch was the first to regain reason. He hurriedly detached himself from her with great surprise. Aran, too, was perplexed and embarrassed.
To calm the awkwardness, the two avoided each other’s eyes. But the unabated heat and harsh breaths after their lips parted was proof enough of what they had done a moment ago.
“I’m sorry,” Enoch muttered an apology he couldn’t have ever said before. It was an apology for everything he did.
Aran, who was looking down at her toes, shook her head vigorously.
“No. Don’t apologize. Actually, well, I loved it.”
Enoch, who always hurt Aran with outspoken words, did not know what to say at this point. He eventually returned to his room without a proper greeting.
Enoch thought about how to treat the princess in the future, but the unrelenting heat hindered his rational judgment. His lips seemed to still feel the touch of the princess. He chose to withhold judgment and escape his thoughts in sleep. Regrettably, however, the heat followed him to the dream and tormented him.
***
The next day, Enoch heard that Aran was sick. A group of ladies-in-waiting passed by him, exchanging stories that neither the court ladies nor the maids would enter her room, saying that the princess was sick.
She’s sick?
She certainly didn’t do anything too much yesterday, and until they parted, she was perfectly fine. The curious Enoch suddenly blushed.
Is it because of that…?
If so, he was half the reason why Aran was sick. Feeling remorse, he visited Aran the day after.
Somehow the maids were nowhere in sight, and she lay on the bed, covered by her quilt to the tips of her head.
“Your Highness, it’s me.”
There was no answer. When he checked if she fell asleep, he was sure she was wiggling a little.
“Are you very ill?”
“No.”
He asked the question again, and the answer came back only then. Still with the quilt pulled up over her head.
“I hear you’ve been in bed all day. Are you in a lot of pain?
“That’s…”
Aran poked her eyes out of the blanket. An idea flashed through Enoch’s mind. Without further asking, he took down the quilt covering her face.
“Ah!”
Aran tried to cover up belatedly, but Enoch had already seen her badly swollen lips. He was speechless.
Enoch was fine, but Aran’s relatively sensitive skin took impact from last night’s passion. She couldn’t get out of bed all day without being seen by her maid.
“It… will be well soon,” Enoch said in an unconvinced tone.
If Aran had been a little calmer, she would have noticed that he was flustered out of his usual way, but now she was completely out of her mind, too.