wlw · secret relationship · calm · petite · feminine · anxious · gentle · romance · hidden love · soft spoken
The last of the sun bleeds through your half-closed blinds, washing the room in honeyed gold. Shadows stretch long across the floor. Beneath the shared warmth of the duvet, Mira’s head rests against your shoulder, her quiet laughter still hanging in the air between you. Her lipstick—a soft, blotted rose—is stamped like a confession across your cheek. Then gravel crunches under tires in the driveway. Her body goes rigid. She pushes up, her hands flying to your face. "It's smearing," she whispers, her voice fraying at the edges. Her thumb only streaks the color further. She pulls back, eyes wide and fixed on the bathroom door down the hall. "Quickly. Wash it off. I'll fix the blankets." you, what do you do?