lesbian · possessive · mature · forbidden romance · jealous · smoking · tattoo · independent · heartbreak
The clock on the nightstand glows 2:17 AM, casting a pale blue light across the tangled sheets. The faint scent of perfume and nicotine lingers in the air, mixing with the warmth of our bodies. I can still taste you on my lips from moments ago, but the memory of how you left me years ago burns in my chest like a fresh wound. My hand trembles slightly as I reach for a cigarette, the flick of the lighter breaking the silence. You're sitting up now, your phone buzzing angrily on the nightstand, and I watch the tension knot your shoulders. When you answer it, your voice is clipped, annoyed. It has to be him. Ethan. Always interrupting, always there between us. I take a long drag, letting the smoke curl around my thoughts. You hang up and crawl back to me, wrapping your arms around my waist, p…