It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this?

It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss.

It was only a kiss.

That's all it was. A kiss. Just one of them. And not a particularly long one, at that.

It was only a kiss.

And it was nothing spectacular, either. No music struck up; no fireworks painted the sky with fire; the world did not pause to watch.

It was only a kiss.

I wasn't expecting it. For once, in fact, I was speechless with shock. If anyone had told me the consequences of that one little kiss, I'd have laughed them out of the room.

It was only a kiss.

You hear about them all the time. You see other people sharing them, passing them around like sweets at Christmas, but no one ever tells you their effect. No one ever explains the way just one kiss can light a fire within you that warms your heart and smoulders for the giver. No one tells you the way the memory of a kiss tugs at the corners of your mouth, pulling your smile from the depths of your soul. No one ever describes to you the way your words get tangled in your mouth; the way all the right ones congregate at the base of your throat, unable to break free, whilst all the ones you didn't mean to say escape from you, and all because you're looking at her smile.

It was only a kiss.

I don't know what changed my heart. Maybe it was the way her lips felt, soft and unsure. Maybe it was because, as she stood on the tips of her toes she came close enough for me to smell her hair; all russet curls, and cinnamon and passion. Maybe it was the way she bit her lip hesitantly in that fatal half-second before; the way she rushed away afterwards.

Maybe I've always felt this. Maybe I've just never recognised it.

It was only a kiss.

But I can't stop thinking about her. She has commandeered my mind, infiltrated my thoughts, and yet I have no idea how to tell her. I can never tell her.

It was only a kiss.

It didn't last long anyway. The ghost of a kiss, almost. But suddenly, I knew.

I knew I could never simply be her friend without wondering. I knew I wanted to protect her from everything in the world. But most of all, inescapably, I knew I was in big trouble. If I felt this way now, things could only worsen.

Because who falls in love over a kiss on the cheek?

This isn't up to my usual standard but in my defence it's very late, I have a very long and horrible day ahead of me tomorrow, and I felt like writing. I was inspired by the lyrics at the top which are from The Killer's Mr. Brightside, and in case it's not clear it's Ron's perspective, talking about when he first fell in love with Hermione.