Her Body (girlxgirl) COMPLETED

06 | F L A W

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F L A W

(adj.) a defect in physical structure or form.
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"OH SHIT, oh shit," Bleu cursed under her breath as she drove home. What did I get myself into?

Bleu looked at her Rolex watch to check the time. She had enough time to clean her room before Paris arrived. Wait what time is she coming? God! Why do I care? She accelerated and her porsche 911 growled in response. "It's just a sleepover," she said to herself, taking a deep breath. "We're old friends trying to reconnect for old times' sake." She convinced herself.

An image of the stunning brunette appeared on her mind, that perfect smile making her stomach twist, knowing she'd see it in less than three hours. She ground her teeth and tried to imagine Paris as the old one. Obese, pimpled, and with braces on. It didn't work. She knew deep down even back then she had admired her friend, not for her looks, but because she had the most attractive personalities to ever exist. And now she had the most attractive body to ever exist.

"We're just friends," she told herself again. "Trying to reconnect over a sleepover. She's a good friend."

So what am I so damn nervous about?

----

"Hello Bleu," her mother greeted, kissing her on her cheek as soon as she walked in their door. "Dinner is in an hour." Blue eyes identical to her daughter's twinkled. "I'm cooking tonight."

"Actually mom," Bleu stopped her mother before she could head into their rather large kitchen. "Can we hold dinner for about thirty minutes? I've, uh, invited someone for a sleepover."

The dark-haired woman raised an impeccable brow. "If that Collins boy is spending the night I've already told you-"

"No, mom," Bleu laughed, loving her mother's protective side. "She's an old friend."

Mrs. Ivy sighed in mock-relief. "Thank God. I'm not ready to be a grandma yet." It made Bleu giggle and she lightly smacked her mother on the arm. "What's her name?" The older woman asked, heading to the kitchen to start prepping with her daughter close behind her.

Hearing the question, Bleu stopped. Cleared her throat.

"Paris."

"Paris?" Her mother turned to her daughter, eyebrows shot up. "Paris Carter? Your best friend who moved away without telling you?"

"Of course you'd know right away," Bleu muttered under her breath. "She's the only Paris you know."

"Hey, hey, why the dislike?" her mother's beautiful features broke into concern, taking her daughter's face in her warm hands and smoothing out the frowns. "I know she hurt you," she told Bleu softly after seeing the hurt and slight distate on her daughter's features at the mention of her old friend. "But I think- I know- that this is a great opportunity to rebuild that wonderful friendship I've witnessed from the both of you." She kissed her daughter's forehead and softly added, "I'm proud of you for giving her a chance."

"Thanks mom," Bleu smiled, truly wanting to believe every word her mother said. She just hoped it wouldn't get worse.

"Now go clean your room," Her mother smacked her butt. "I didn't raise you to allow our guests to sleep on your discarded underwears."