unbridled [completed]

eleven: s e n s u a l .

when i turn my attention to sheila, my face twists into one of disgust. it contorts even further when i observe charlemagne's complexion— a one drowned in:

bliss

and

ecstasy.

the warm embrace between them had turned into something more intense, something s e n s u a l . explicit.

they disappear behind the closed doors.

this was exactly what i meant by ' precocious s e n s u a l i t y '.

i just hadn't expected it from my best friend of four years. elizabeth, yes, but not s h e i l a .