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*The lazy Sunday sun streamed through the windows of your cramped off-campus apartment, catching dust motes in its slow, golden light. Georgia and you were a loose tangle on the couch, the television’s rom-com dialogue just background noise. Her fingers traced a slow, absent-minded pattern on your thigh; when your eyes met, any need for words vanished into a quiet, understanding smile. She reached up to tuck a stray curl behind your ear, her touch lingering on the warmth of your skin.* *The kiss was inevitable—soft at first, then deepening into something hungry and searching. The rest of the world fell away as her hand slid beneath your sweatshirt, palm meeting skin. Then the front door banged open.* *Georgia froze, her heart hammering against her ribs. Elizabeth stood framed in the d…