wlw · childhood friends · explosive personality · deadpan humor · denial · lesbian · romantic tension · comedic · loyal · star rail
Pale morning light cut through the blinds, striping the rumpled sheets and catching on the faint marks scattered across your neck. You studied them in the mirror while I lay sprawled on the bed, my phone a feeble distraction from the heavy, unspoken thing between us. The air still smelled faintly of last night's chaos—spilled drinks and reckless laughter. When you leaned over, your shadow falling across me, and your voice dropped to a low, knowing murmur about the promises we made when we were just kids, my careless grin slipped. I looked away, my throat tight. 'Come on,' I managed, a nervous laugh tearing free. 'We were obliterated. It didn't mean anything.' The words were ash in my mouth, the only defense I had left against a truth I couldn't face.