Touch you | Winrina

9

"Trouble in paradise?" she asks, leaning against the doorpost and watching Winter rummage through the cabinets. The blonde finally gives her a quick glance, seemingly only now realizing she's standing there.

"What?" She sounds irritated. "I don't even know his name."

"So you're finally seeing the error of your ways and coping like a stable adult would?" she teases, watching as Winter finally finds what she was looking for. A whiskey bottle stashed in an empty Captain Crunch box. Smart. Neither Karina nor her father would ever touch that box with a ten-foot pole.

Winter rolls her eyes as she unscrews the cap. "We're seventeen," she reminds Karina. "We are supposed to make fucked up choices and not deal with them the right way. You keep forgetting that."

Karina grabs the bottle Winter's about to tip in her mouth. This is alarming. She's seen Winter come home wasted and she's seen her high as a kite, but she's never seen her about to chug whiskey straight from the bottle. In the house, alone, without her friends and loud frat party bass reverberating through her chest. It looks like Winter's progressing from social drinking to quiet alcoholism and that just won't do.

Winter makes a disgruntled noise of protest but Karina still wrestles the bottle out of her head and carefully screws the cap back on. "I'm not forgetting that," she says. "And I'm eighteen."

The blonde scoffs. "Since when?"

"Since last week."

Winter looks taken aback by her admission. "Oh." She watches as Winter frowns slightly, blinking. "Why didn't you... I mean, I didn't know it was your birthday last week."

Karina feels like she has to explain. "It's not that big of a deal," she says. "I don't care about my birthday. I don't have time to celebrate." It doesn't convince Winter whose frown deepens. So she continues. "I bought myself a gift and everything. Celebration is... taxing." It is. She's not lying when she says it isn't a big deal. She doesn't get what it is about birthdays that has people so excited. It's just a day. A day when she has a permission to buy whatever she wants for herself, within the reasonable limit, of course - if 1500 dollars can be considered reasonable to blow in one day. She sends the money to The Trevor Project every year and treats herself to a 20-dollar ice cream and her father pretends he's proud of her.

Winter gives her a long look and Karina smiles inwardly when it inevitably falls to her lips. She holds her breath as the blonde slowly leans closer to her. Winter smells like sex and something uniquely her. Something Karina misses, she realizes.

Her eyes are about to flutter closed when the bottle is snatched from her hand. She scowls as Winter smirks at her, holding it proudly.

"Well," she says. "If you find it 'taxing' to celebrate, I'll do it for you." She tips the bottle mockingly. "Cheers."

Karina merely watches her. Notes the flush of her cheeks, the frustrated quirk of her eyebrows, the labored breathing, and something clicks and falls in place.

Winter looks ready to kill when Karina takes the bottle for the second time, but whatever it is she was about to say gets muffled by Karina's lips on hers. She holds the blonde in place, gripping her waist, and it's only a second before Winter kisses back, letting out a throaty groan when Karina parts her legs with her thigh, grinding up into her.