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twentyone.

We haven't talked about it.

It has been a full 24 hours and neither of us has brought up the fact we kissed multiple times yesterday. Our date last night was more so just us being giddy about being around each other and knowing, deep down, we felt so much for the other.

But we haven't kissed again and haven't mentioned it.

Now, we're on a plane to go from Baku to Miami, nearly 16 hours long. Carlos was with us, but he was keeping to himself at the front of the plane, leaving Charles and I alone at the back. We sat in adjacent seats, a blanket over our laps as we relaxed, it was going to be a long flight.

Our hands were connected, fingers intertwined as we sat in a comfortable silence.

Out of nowhere, I felt Charles lifting my hand, pressing his lips against the back of it in a kiss. I dropped my phone in my lap and looked to him, his eyes still on his own phone as his lips stayed pressed against the skin of my hand.

"Est-ce qu'on va en parler?" (Are we going to talk about it?) My voice was nearly a whisper when I asked.

Charles blushes, setting his phone down and looking at me, "Je ne savais pas comment en parler." (I didn't know how to talk about it.)

I tried to think, how we could bring it up, how we could discuss this recent development between us.

I kept hold of his hand, pulling it into my lap. "Quand avez-vous réalisé vos sentiments? Commencez par là." (When did you realize your feelings? Start there.)

His cheeks got even redder, "Je ne veux pas te le dire." (I don't want to tell you.)

My brows furrowed at his statement and I shifted in my chair to face him better, our hands still resting in my lap.

"Pourquoi pas?" (Why not?)

I ran my thumb over his knuckles, my eyes locked with his.

"Parce que vous allez vous moquer de moi depuis combien de temps cela s'est produit." (Because you're going to laugh at me for how long ago this happened.) His voice was quiet as he spoke, almost as if he didn't want to admit it.

A small smirk rested on my lips, "Combien de temps, Charlie?" (How long, Charlie?) I was genuinely curious.

He leaned in, tucking his face into my neck before speaking again. I couldn't help but giggle at the feeling of his hot breath against my neck, my free hand now holding the back of his head.. "Le jour où j'ai gagné ma première course de karting et où je t'ai vu m'encourager. Cela m'a alors frappé." (The day I won my first kart race and saw you cheering me on. It hit me then.)

What?

I had only realized my feelings in the last couple of weeks. Charles' admittal had clued me in that he had felt for me for nearly 20 years, we were only 7 when he won for the first time.

"C'est long?" (That long?)

He simply nodded, his face still tucked into my neck. A string of giggles fell from my lips, my hands going to hold the sides of his face, pulling him up to look at me. Fuck, I could get used to looking at his sweet face every day, in a different way than I have before.

"C'est adorable, tu es adorable." (It's adorable, you're adorable.) I'm pretty sure my smile reached my eyes at this point, so big my cheeks hurt.

Charles tried to hide his face again, but I struggled against him, pulling his face closer to mine so I could connect our lips once more. Our first kiss since yesterday, this one slow and sweet.