SHORT FICTION The corner of my mouth tingles where you kiss it. My cheeks glow under too-bright bar lights. I mumble excuses, tumble into refreshing darkness, and catch the first bus home. Was it a romantic kiss, or a kiss between friends? In the heat of pink strobes and shimmying bodies, cider still sweet on our tongues, the line between love and lust dissolves. My group of friends enjoy blurring those boundaries, on many a night out. ‘You’re not friends, Seph,’ Oz reminds me. They have a...