The Night School [GxG] [First Draft Edition]

Chapter Sixty-Eight: March Twenty-First Part Two

Warning: this chapter contains explicit sexual content and may not be appropriate for younger audiences, or those who are uncomfortable with lesbian intimacy or sexuality. Reader discretion is advised.

. . .

Hazel was right. The top did squeeze me a little much. It also made me a little bit too conscious of my, hm... I believe the correct term is jiggle physics... And my nipples still poking out due to the cold and the vixen outside the room.

I left all but my underpants folded neatly somewhere in the bathroom, hoping Hazel wouldn't mind it. My underpants, of course, stayed on my body.

I left the small room and found Hazel's head and shoulders sticking out from under the pretty covers of her bed, staring at the TV across from her, similar to the set up of my guest bedroom at home. I crossed my arms self-consciously, trying to prevent her from noticing any jiggling or poking.

"You know you're supposed to lay down at night, right?" She cracked a smile, still watching her TV.

"I wasn't sure you wanted me in here." I shrugged minimally, creeping over to her bed and slipping under the sheets. She sat up, making a gesture for me to come closer, and laying on my chest once I had moved. Her head was on my shoulder, one arm of hers rested across my chest. Her legs wrapped around one of mine, smooth and soft like you wouldn't believe.

"You look good in my clothes." Hazel smirked with a slightly lower and raspier tone than usual, like she was just waking up, giving the top I was wearing a gentle, amused tug.

"Thanks. You look better, though." I touched my lips to her forehead, smiling. I put my arms around her waist, nuzzling her hair and breathing in her scent. "You're beautiful." I whispered. At this point I had a feeling that flattering her would become a redundancy she didn't appreciate, but I couldn't help myself.

"So I've heard." She snorted contently. "What do you want to watch?"

"Dunno. You decide." I traced lazy shaped onto her hip. I could feel her diaphragm move with her breathing, each deflation sent a hot wind over my chest.

"Mm..." She hummed, choosing a show I didn't pay much attention to.

"Hazel?" I asked without even thinking of a question. I don't even know why I spoke. I just knew I wanted attention.

"Yeah?" She breathed, curling up closer and tighter to me.

"Um..." Think, Grace, you have to ask something! "Why is your house always so cold?" I felt like a genius after coming up with a believable question on the spot.

"The house is funded by the Night School. We aren't allowed to contract anyone outside our system so all our facilities are sponsored and monitored strictly by the N.S." She explained. "Let go for a second." She started to squirm so I lifted my arm. When she slipped out of contact with me, I felt the cold more than before. After shutting off the television, since it was obvious neither of us were going to pay it any attention, she grabbed something -which I soon figured was a lighter- from her nightstand and went around the room opening and lighting candles placed around the shelves, desks, and tables. I watched each of them flicker and dance when the flame caught, and Hazel, when she lifted each to set fire to them, held the glass jars like they were living creatures. When she reached the door, she took a moment to dim the lights to almost nothing, but the candles still illuminated the space, casting swaying ghosts of warm radiance onto any surface. Hazel's eyes looked wide, full of wonder and sentiment, her skin seemed to absorb the amber glow of the light, and will-o-the-wisps chased mirage reflections on her hair.