The rooftop was strung with fairy lights, and a projector cast an old black-and-white film on the side of a brick building. I was sitting on a blanket with a cup of warm cider, wrapped in the cool breeze of the evening, when he joined me.

“Mind if I sit here?” he asked, pointing to the empty spot next to me.

“Not at all,” I replied, trying to focus on the screen instead of the way his leather jacket clung to his shoulders.

We talked quietly, our voices blending with the faint dialogue from the film. He was charming, his wit sharp enough to make me laugh even at his most ridiculous jokes. When the movie ended and most of the crowd began to leave, he stayed behind with me, our conversation deepening as the stars came out.

“You’ve got something on your face,” he said, leaning closer.

“Where?” I asked, suddenly self-conscious.

“Right... here,” he murmured, brushing his thumb against my cheek before his lips captured mine in a kiss that left me breathless. The combination of the cool night air and the warmth of his touch made my skin tingle.

“I thought you were just trying to be smooth,” I whispered against his lips.

“It worked, didn’t it?” he replied, his voice low, as he pulled me closer under the glow of the city lights.