The room lay still.
A car passed outside, and its headlights slid across the ceiling in a fleeting silver wave. Emily had turned off the desk lamp a while ago, leaving only the pale blue glow of her phone charger lighting the dark. It wasn't much—barely enough to see shapes—but I could make out the rise of her blanket, the soft outline of her form.
Neither of us had fallen asleep.
I lay on my side, staring across the room at the faint shape of our closet. My fingers curled into the blanket near my chin, legs drawn in tight beneath the sheets. The warmth between my thighs had only grown since the video. Since that kiss.
I pressed my legs together. Just slightly.
The pressure made it worse—in the best way. That heat answered me, deep and pulsing.
I let out a breath without meaning to and bit down gently on the inside of my cheek.
Across the room, Emily shifted in her bed.
I blinked. I hadn't imagined it. The soft rustle of sheets, followed by stillness.
Was she thinking about it too?
Those slow moans. The way one girl had cradled the other's cheek before kissing her.
I couldn't stop thinking about it. And I couldn't understand why it made me feel… this way. Full. Restless. Hungry.
I shut my eyes, trying to push it away, but the ache between my thighs pulsed gently with every heartbeat.
Another rustle. Another shallow breath—this one from her.
I swallowed. My mouth felt dry.
The silence between us had weight now. Like we were both pretending nothing happened. Like we hadn't seen something that made us feel something. And still… what if I was wrong? What if she didn't feel it?
The thought made my stomach twist.
I rolled onto my back, then slowly turned toward her side of the room. I could just barely see the shape of her shoulder.
"Emily?" I whispered.
A pause.
"Yeah?" she replied, soft and unsure.
I hesitated. My voice came out small.
"I know this is dumb, but… I feel kinda cold."
The silence stretched—longer than it needed to.
Then:"Oh. Um… do you wanna sleep over here?"
"Yeah. If that's okay."
"Yeah. I mean—yeah, of course."
I pushed off my blanket and felt the chill immediately. My bare feet hit the floor, and I padded across the room quickly, heart hammering.
I slipped under her blanket without a word.
Her warmth hit me immediately. I breathed it in. Coconut and skin and something faintly floral.
We lay side by side. Not touching. Barely breathing.
But the bed was small, and our legs brushed.
Neither of us moved.
I closed my eyes, trying to slow my heart. But the heat inside me had only intensified.
Her body was so close. Every second felt louder.
Her breathing. Mine. That low ache between my thighs pulsing, demanding something I didn't fully understand.
I couldn't lie there anymore.
I couldn't pretend I didn't want to touch her.
I bit my lip and let my hand drift forward—slow, unsure, trembling slightly.
I touched her waist.
She flinched—just a quick inhale. Her body tensed, then settled again. She didn't turn. She didn't stop me.
I held still for a moment, stunned by how right it felt.
Then I pulled her gently toward me, pressing my chest to her back, wrapping an arm around her middle. My hand settled on her stomach.
Her skin was soft and warm. I let my fingers move—tiny circles, slow strokes just beneath her ribs.
Emily shivered.
"That tickles," she whispered, giggling quietly.
"I like it."
I didn't answer. I smiled against her shoulder, closed my eyes, and breathed her in.
Her skin was bare beneath the loose strap of her tank top.
I leaned in and kissed it. Barely. A brush of lips.
Then another.
And then I let my tongue slip forward, copying what I remembered from the video. Just a little. Just enough to taste her.
She didn't laugh that time. She inhaled—sharp and quiet.
I kissed her again, more firmly. Open-mouthed. Then sucked softly on the curve between her neck and shoulder.
She didn't stop me.
Our breathing grew shallow, fast, tangled. I slid my hand higher on her stomach. Closer to something I didn't dare touch.
Still, neither of us spoke.
We weren't pretending anymore.
My kisses slowed. I pressed one last kiss to her shoulder and stilled.
My hand rested just beneath her chest. I could feel her heart racing.
I leaned my forehead against her back and closed my eyes.
After a moment, she whispered, "Claire… are you okay?"
I smiled against her skin.
"I… don't know."
She let out a soft laugh—nervous, but not scared.
She turned just enough that our eyes could meet.
Even in the dark, I could see her.
She reached up and tucked my hair behind my ear.
"We can stop," she said.
I nodded.
"Yeah. I think we should."
Neither of us pulled away.
We stayed tangled, face to face, forehead to forehead, breathing the same air.
Finally, I exhaled slowly.
"Goodnight," I whispered.
"Goodnight, Claire."
And this time, the silence wasn't heavy.
This time, we slept.