I lie in bed for hours, above the sheets as it's a little warm in this room, and drum my fingers against my abdomen where my hands lie on top of my button down sleep shirt. I don't usually have sleep clothes, preferring boxers and a bra, or even to sleep naked, but I know my family has just walked in unannounced in earlier years, and so I don't really feel like doing that again, so I can deal with a sleep shirt and boxers for a night.
Anyway, I stare at the ceiling, counting away the minutes as they pass because I just can't find the sleep I want. I don't need it because I'm wide awake, but I'd like it to come to me at some point as my mind's racing a mile a minute, thoughts of blonde hair, brown eyes and terrifying feelings invading my brain, and I don't want to have to keep thinking about it. All of my thoughts for the past five months have just been Rosé, Rosé, Rosé and it's just irritating. They're only growing, increasing with intensity, and I hate that I can't figure anything out because I'm just too scared to.
If I just forced myself to come up with some type of conclusion, I wouldn't have to be putting myself through this.
My thoughts are swiftly interrupted by the sound of floorboards creaking right outside my bedroom door, and I bolt upright, back straight as a pole and eyes wide as they lock on to the space between the floor and the door, revealing the smallest slither of light from the bathroom. I must have forgotten to turn it off. Though I'm glad I did, because as I stare, my eyes narrowing, I watch a shadow appear outside, a pair of feet casting darkness where light should be and I wait, hushing my own breath as it's loud in my ears as I wait for whoever is outside to come in.
Except they never do.
Moments pass, minutes even, and I don't know who's outside (although I have a pretty good idea who) but they finally disappear, the sound of soft footsteps padding down the carpeted hallway, away from my bedroom. And I can't help myself as I throw my legs off the side of the bed, push off the mattress with balled fists and creep over to the bedroom room, opening it slowly and wincing when there's a slight creak, before pulling it open and step outside into the hallway.
And that's when I find her. Rosé, tip-toeing back toward her bedroom, wearing small pajama shorts and a tank top, and I feel myself smiling and calling her name before I know it. "Rosie?"
Rosé spins around, eyes wide like she's been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
"Rosie, are you okay?" I whisper, my eyes meeting hers and she looks behind her, back toward her bedroom door, hesitating in an answer.
"Yeah, I just—" she starts and warily glances back at me, rubbing her left hand up her right forearm where it lies straight against her side. I shift, curious to the nervous gesture. "I couldn't sleep," she continues and I tilt my head to the side, unable to fight the idea that maybe she couldn't sleep for the same reason I couldn't. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
"You didn't," I blurt out, pulling my lips down and baring my teeth at the volume of my voice. Shit. I need to keep it down. "Whoops," I let out through a soft chuckle and Rosé grins at me. "I mean, you didn't wake me," I repeat, this time with my voice low and I take one step down the hallway, my eyes flicking to the left as if to look back to my bedroom. "Do you wanna..."
I can't seem to finish my sentence, the words trailing off because I want to ask her to come and sleep with me, but I also know with my latest epiphany that I probably shouldn't. I don't want to make things more complicated than they are, even though I'm not sure they could be at this moment, but I just don't want to run the risk. I've protected myself and Rosé for too long, tried to make this work for too long, just to give up and give in.
Though I think she already knows what I want to ask, what I want, because she comes toward me slowly, stopping about a meter away from me and stares me in the eye, wetting her lips and sucking them into her mouth, her brows creasing and face twisting in thought.
"Do I want to what, Lisa?" She asks, and I lift my head, my heart wanting nothing more than to blurt out pretty much everything I want, but instead I just finish off what I was originally planning. It's easier than revealing the truth.
"Do you want to come and sleep with me?" I cock my head to the right quickly, gesturing to my door. And I know if it were any other person, I'd correct my words, stumble over the letters and splutter because I don't mean sleep with me as in fuck me, I mean, lying in each others arms and holding each other until we both fall asleep; but Rosé knows me well. Too well, I think, and she just nods sheepishly, the corners of her lips tugging up into a nervous smile and she reaches out with a shaking hand which I take, sliding my fingers through hers.
I let my eyes linger on hers for a long moment, counting the seconds and breaths we both take before I guide her into my bedroom, opening the door and letting her enter first before I follow her. Our hands stay clutched together the entire time, fingers locked around each other and I feel her stroke over the back of my thumb as I slide into bed, pulling her with me until both of us are lying on our sides, facing each other.
And in this moment, it feels like I should say something. It feels significant for some reason, a reason I know not of, but I don't want to ruin it by asking. I don't want to break the gaze, change the way Rosé's staring at me like she never wants to stop, and so I let myself revel in those brown eyes roaming around my face, drinking me in like it'll be the last time. Though I suppose it is; after all, we are going back to normality when I leave Miami.
I never realized until now how much I don't want that.
Because it's peaceful lying here quietly in the dark with Rosé. It makes me forget about everything bad in the world, and makes me think of a bright, happy future. It makes me forget about nosy best friends and questioning glares. It makes me forget about having to hide the lingering touches, and having to pretend like I'm not making eye as Rosé in a way I never thought I would. It just makes me forget everything, and as I watch Rosé watch me, I slowly become aware of something in the air changing between us; because for the first time, I'm seeing what I know to be true, reflected in her eyes.
It makes me gasp, and I want to acknowledge it out loud, but I can't. Just like I couldn't in the shower. It just makes everything too real, and so instead I shift my head closer on the pillow, my arm winding around Rosé's back and pressing against the small of her back to urge our bodies together, and I shift that little bit closer until I'm so close to Rosé that our noses bump and lips brush as I say, "Night, Rosie."
She smiles, I can feel it, and it's soft and warm and I close my eyes to think about it at the same time she eliminates the gap between us, kissing me carefully, gently, her hand coming up to rest against my cheek. I don't try to shift, to open my mouth and taste more of Rosé, instead just choose to kiss her, lips against lips and feel my heart thump loudly against my chest, matching the rhythm hers has set as the hand on her hip pulls her even closer to me.
Though soon enough I feel Rosé's lips getting sloppy against mine, the kiss turning sleepy and so I break away, craning my neck to press my lips to her forehead before we both settle back down on the pillow, the tips of our noses squashed together and warm exhalations of breath exchanging between us.
"Night, Lisa," she whispers, and I drop a kiss to her hair as my arms tug her further into me, our bodies so close together we might just melt into one another, but I say nothing in response.
And this time, with Rosé in my arms, I find sleep easily.
***
I wake up at some point in the night. I don't know why because the branch of the oak tree isn't scratching against the window pane like it did last night, and there's no-one padding down the hallway to use the bathroom. There's no real reason, and I go to shift a little when I find Rosé snuggled on my chest, her head resting on it, ear pressed to the space below my collarbones and I smile to myself, stroking a hand delicately over her hair. It's late, or early depending on my frame of mind, but whatever, it's still dark and so I don't want to wake her with my touches so I just lie there, making sure not to jolt her as I think of the weekend.
It really has been amazing. I don't know why because I don't usually feel like this about visiting my family but I think it's not that part of it, but rather the Rosé part of being here that's made me enjoy it so much. She's done what I told her she'd do and save me from complete boredom, but she's done more than that. She's just made it a really nice weekend, especially with this evening's beach walk and honestly? I don't want it to end.
There's no complications here and no quizzical or really fucking nosy best friends with the name Jisoo to interfere. There's no narrowed glares or questions thrown at me, I've just been accepted what's going on and even though it's lead me to a few realizations, I can't help but think that they're going to help me at some point in time. Maybe not soon, but in the future, I know they're going to be good for me. For both Rosé and me, in fact.
This weekend's just been relaxing, and comfortable, and I'm kind of dreading going back home tomorrow. Back to reality and back to pretending.
(Although I'm not really sure what I'm pretending to do or be.)
As my hand strokes over her hair again, I feel her stir and mumble something incoherent against my chest. My entire body tenses, the fear of waking her up spiking against my skin and I try not to breathe because I don't want to disturb her. Though as I continue to still, I pick up the sound of her regulated breathing and realize she's already awake. Shit. I didn't mean to wake her up and I don't want her to know I was awake.
"Hmm," she hums sleepily, tilting her head back against my shoulder.
I manage to pull my head and twist it enough to glance down at her, meeting her eye. She's a little groggy, I can tell by the way she's squinting and blinking purposefully and I smile to myself because she's just so adorable. Before I know it, my hand is stroking over her face, the backs of my fingers grazing over her cheek and the tips of my finger running down the length of her nose, and after I’ve finished, and after I pull my eyes back to meet hers, I find something behind the brown that makes me take a staggered breath.
I don't know what it is, I've seen it before a few times, but I've never seen is this... intense. It feels like it could climb out, wrap me up in an embrace and never let me go. It feels like it could hold me forever, the softness warming me for eternity and I wouldn't mind at all. And that could be why I don't even hesitate in leaning down and kissing her, but then again it could be because I just want to, or because I haven't kissed her in the way I've wanted to in over twenty-four hours and for the past five months that's never happened before.
It could be a number of things that make I kiss her, but the second my lips touch hers, I don't even care what the reason is, because I'm kissing her and she's kissing me back.
Our lips fit together perfectly, mine taking in her bottom one and sucking gently and I feel her shift, pushing herself higher to my level as both her hands find the space beside my head, her body lifting and knees bracketing my hips. My hands move to her waist, helping her as she settles down and I feel her lips stretch into a lazy grin, mine mirroring it, as our bodies press together, my hands sliding around her and smoothing up and down her back, moving the fabric of her shirt with it.
I want more of her, I can feel it curdling in my groin and I know by the way her hips are rolling over me, making me bulge and grow against her, that she wants it to, but it's like there's something stopping me. It's like there's a barrier because I know that since I realized that I... well, since I just realized, if I sleep with her then I'm acknowledging what I feel and acting with them instead of acting with my dick like I usually do. I never use my mind when having sex, I never think with it and yet here I am, kissing the most gorgeous woman on the planet and feeling my mind reacting to her as well as my body.
Though it's stupid to think I could stop myself from giving in, because her lips are just too soft, her touch too powerful and when she kisses me harder, pushing my head further back into the pillow, something transpires between us, much like it did earlier when I was staring at her and I know I'm completely powerless to resist.
So I let my feelings and my body take a hold, letting them make the movements instead of my conscious thoughts and my hands lower down her back, curving over her ass and gripping it, aiding her in her rocks against me. She grins against my mouth immediately, and I can't help but muffle a giggle against hers before my hands graze down the back of her thighs, skimming across the softness of her skin. It makes her shudder, and I can't help but wonder if I have the same effect on her that she does on me because that reaction says I do.
Somehow, that single thought makes the heat flush across my skin, and my hands move back up on their own accord, slipping beneath the hem of her sleep shorts to grab at the flesh of her ass, fingers kneading gently as my tongue strokes into her mouth in the way she deserves; with adoration and care. She moans against me, her hands coming up to my cheeks and she pulls back for air, but takes the next kiss breathlessly and tips my head back shortly after, kissing a path down my jaw and neck, reverent at first but then urgent and open-mouthed.
Her kisses trail down my skin, her tongue poking out to taste me and I groan, my back arching involuntarily off the bed as my hands slip accidentally from her shorts, but find their grip again on top of her thighs, my fingers digging into her skin. But before I can let my hands trail up between her thighs, and cup her over her shorts, she's grabbing my hands and pinning them either side of my head, dipping her head and licking over my throat and collarbones, teeth grazing lightly.
It shoots arousal through my body, and I can't help but pant her name, "Rosie, Rosie, Rosie," over and over until she's coming back up to my level and I'm lifting my head off the pillow to kiss her hard on the mouth, trying to show her that I need her. My dick's aching to be inside her and the heat blooming over my skin is almost overwhelming, but I still need and want to be able to show her what she means to me because I pretty much suck at words.
And I think she knows that, because she smiles against my mouth and shifts a little higher up, pressing her core right above mine and pressing down with her hips until I'm hissing against her lips and she's tugging my bottom one between her teeth and flicking her tongue against it. The sensations are all too much, arms being pinned against the bed, hips grinding down against me and Rosé's lips moving against mine softly, urging me into a kiss that's way too gentle and soft considering her movements, but I don't care. All I can tell from this is that she wants me, that she needs me, and I need her too.
She pulls back, staring me in the eye and my breath hitches at the dark brown staring back at me. There are so many reasons why I shouldn't be doing this, most of them being because my family are down the hall, but also because I think both of us know that deep inside, this isn't just sex. Something about this weekend has flicked a switch inside me, inside her, too, and it feels like every gesture means so much more than before.
That's why I think when her hands slide down from mine, fingers tracing along the inside of my forearm and across my shoulders to my chest, resting there, and when I prop myself up on my elbows a little, minimizing the space between our faces and then pressing my lips to hers, once, softly, that something changes in the air between us. Changes right here and now, and both of us just accept it because I realize there's no point in trying to fight it. Why should I?
So I kiss her once more, and when my eyes avert down to her hands on my chest, the same hands now slowly working the buttons of my sleep shirt, slowly and shakily, I breathe out unevenly because it's already nothing like we have ever done before. It's not urgent, it's not frantic, or full of animalistic need, it's just caring, and adoring and affectionate. It's just a slow, dragged out movement and I pick up my head, staring up through my eyelashes whilst I listen to my hard breathing matching Rosé's, to meet deep brown eyes that stare down at me with such certainty I find myself having to look away to recollect myself.
I'm just so comfortable. I just want this so much. I want her so much, in this way, in this intimate, gentle, manner, and I'm so sure of the intimacy that I'm positive that if she undressed me and undressed herself, and we just laid with our bare bodies pressed together, not even necessarily kissing, I'd be one hundred percent content.
Hell, I'm sure we could just lie pressed together fully clothed and I'd be content.
Because it's not the sex I want with Rosé. It's the intimacy I want with her.
I watch her undo the buttons to my shirt, admiring her nimble, tender fingers until each side of my shirt falls apart, revealing my bare torso, toned abs, pert nipples and round breasts, and I suddenly feel exposed. I've been naked in front of this girl so many times that I'd need at least twenty pairs of hands to count , but this is different. It's different because she's letting her gaze trail over me like she's trying to memorize every inch of me. She's gazing at me like I'm the most perfect thing in the world, and I'm so not used to it because she's never really looked at me like this.
I've seen her look at me before sex, her eyes hungry and full of lust, and I've seen a softness in them that I've always tried to figure out, but the second it's appeared, it's disappeared and so I'm shocked now as I watch her stare openly with it right there. Literally staring down at me.
"Rosie," I breathe, my voice so low and hoarse that it's foreign to my own ears.
Bright brown eyes flick up, meeting my deep brown ones and her hands press palm down against my abdomen, my muscles twitching beneath her touch as soft fingers make their way up toward my breasts, the pads of them rolling over my nipples. My back arches, hips canting up and my teeth sink into my bottom lip as the single touch sends heat surging across my skin, scorching me in the best way possible and I just let myself feel it because even though it feels like I'm on fire, with her staring down at me like this, her soft gaze roaming over my face and eyes so warm and inviting me just want to sink into them, I find myself not caring whether I burn.
A quivering breath is pulled from deep within me, and I force myself to start moving, my hands finally drifting up her thighs, beneath her tank top to her stomach. She bends down, pressing soft kisses to the space above my belly button and my eyes roll back, body jolting at every touch. I can feel the energy and arousal building around both of us, the need and want obvious, and I grab the hem of her shirt, but she quickly sits up and tugs me up by my shoulders into a seated position, locking eyes with me as she pushes the sleep shirt off my shoulders, down my arms and tosses it somewhere in the room behind her.
Then she gazes at me, biting her swollen bottom lip and I suck in a shaky breath as I reach for the hem of her shirt again, sliding my palm up the side of it and brushing the back of my hand over her taut stomach as I urge it over her head, her hair falling in waves around her shoulders once I've removed it and thrown it to join my shirt. And then we're bare chest against bare chest, and my hands map out every inch of her, grazing down her ribs, around to her stomach, up to her breasts and over her shoulders to her shoulder blades. She leans into the touch, her eyes fluttering and I take no hesitation in leaning forward, kissing a path down to her breastbone before skimming over and tracing my tongue around her nipple.
"Lisa," she moans, breathlessly, her hands shooting to the back of my head as I suck the flesh into my mouth, flicking my tongue against her and garnering a rut of her hips. But I just smile against her, my hands sliding down into the back of her sleep shorts to clutch at her ass, kneading her like I did earlier, because I want her to feel everything. I want to show her as much as I can and make her feel so good because that's what she does to me; even without sex. She just makes me feel like the most amazing person in the world and this is my thanks and mirror of that.
My lips release her nipple with a pop, and I move to her neglected one as I pull her back down on the bed with my hands on her ass, I back now flat against the mattress so I can push her shorts off her. She kicks them off the rest of the way and I stroke over her, making sure to touch every bare piece of her, memorizing it as if it's the last time I'll ever touch her, and she moans in response, her head throwing tilting back to expose her throat.
I take this moment to lean in and kiss her neck, sucking over her pulse point as my hands pull her higher against my body, rocking me until I can feel her wetness dampening the front of your boxers. And then I can't take it anymore and push down my boxers, my mouth still working over her neck as her hands tremble beside my head. My erection springs free from beneath the fabric as I shift, urging them down and I pull my lips away from Rosé's skin, nudging her jaw with my nose until she glances back at me, our eyes locking and breaths trading.
I'm not sure why either of us are hesitating, and I can tell by the way she's looking at me that she's thinking the same thing, but I still just continue to stare as my hand strokes down her stomach, fingertips pressing at the smoothness a centimeter about the place she needs me to be, but then there's that pause again. Her eyes dart between mine, her breath ragged and uneven against my mouth and I lean up to kiss her once, softly, before grabbing myself between us and guiding it to her most intimate place.
She gasps at the initial contact, her hips jerking back and down hard, and I bite down on my bottom lip as she grabs my free hand, pushing it beside my head and holding it there, our fingers tangling together as her other hand goes between our bodies. Her fingers brush over the back of mine, and I expect her to swat my hand out the way carefully, but instead she wraps her hand around the backs of mine, and we both suck in deep, unsteady breaths as we both run the tip of my cock through her wetness, bumping her clit in a way I know way too well.
But then she's shifting and lifting her hips, and still grasping my hand, she slides me down lower until I'm pressed against her entrance, and when she lowers her hips just the slightest, she pulls my hand away and grasps it against mu chest, right above my heart, as she does the rest with my eyes still locked and lips almost touching from where her head is hovering over mine. She sinks down on to me, kissing me simultaneously, her tongue licking into my mouth and my eyes almost roll into the back of my head at the feeling of being buried deep inside her, the flexing muscles sucking me in and massaging me rhythmically.
And I'm sure, when she pulls back and stares me in the eye so close I can see the silver flecks and her breath stuttered and uneven against my drying lips , that I could be in love with her.
Though my thoughts are swiftly interrupted as she rolls her hips slowly, almost experimentally, and then I'm focused on the way I feel as I move inside of her and how she releases the hand I have on her chest to cup the back of my neck and keep our foreheads together, kissing every now and then but not being able to keep up fully from the rocking motions set. We never break eye contact though, holding that thought inside my head because I can't fight how right it feels. How it settles in my gut and how it feels like... home. How it feels like I belong, here with her, and with no-one else.
I've had sex with this girl so many times, I know, but there's something more about this. Something that makes me feel like it isn't just sex.
And that really fucking scares me.
So to distract me from the thoughts, I let my mind go to how she's working my shaft up and down, her eyes struggling to stay open as she slams down on to me, and I slide a hand between our bodies, palm gliding down her abdomen until my fingers reach her clit. Rosé jerks as I roll the pads of them over her in small circles, and I grip her other hand harder, pushing up against it and letting her lean down as I begin moving my own hips, rutting up into her and sliding in and out of her rapidly but gently.
She smiles down at me, her eyes locked on to mine like this is the best thing she's ever felt, and it spurs me on as I thrust into every one of her downward grinds, making sure to keep my fingers in rhythm with the movement. It must spark something inside of her on the third grind, because she begins stroking the small hairs at the nape of my neck as she brings her head down, kissing me in a way that's way too gentle for way her hips are rolling, but I don't care. She's kissing me and moaning into my mouth, and I don't know how she can make me feel so amazing by doing something I've done with many other women, but she's doing it.
After all this time, she still manages to surprise me.
I still don't know how she does it.
"Ugh, Lisa," she moans at one particular thrust of my hips, tapping her at the right spot and causing her arms to give out and back to buckle until she's slumped over me, her forehead resting heavily against mine and breaths beating against my mouth. She whines, a sharp whimper pulling from deep within her and my entire body spreads with goosebumps at the sound. I need to hear it over and over.
So I wrap my arms around her and thrust into her, picking up my pace and feeling the pleasure spark through my body in short electric waves. I've never felt this good with someone else before, and I know as I stare at her, her hands coming up to cup my cheeks as my eyes bore into hers, that I'm never going to again. I don't want to even try with anyone else, and despite the heavy pants pushing through my lips, I feel the slight nervous shudder and quiver in my breath.
It feels like that realization coming over me again, hitting me hard in the gut and I slow my movements, pulling out and pushing back in slowly as she tightens around me, my body now rolling in a way that adds the pressure to her clit that was lost when I took control. My hands slide to her lower back, pushing her lower half harder into me and I use this to bump into her clit repeatedly with the part below my belly button, garnering the most delicious and arousing of sounds.
And even though I want to continue this, to let these sounds take over my body and watch the pleasure as it takes over her face, I feel her tightening around me and I know I'm so close.
"Fuck, Rosie," I breathe out, following my words with a groan and a slight increase of my pounding as I press our lips together, kissing her and sucking in her bottom lip to muffle the noises I'm making.
I can tell she's close too by the incoherent little squeaks she's producing against my mouth, and it doesn't take much more before her entire body's tensing, walls clenching around me and I listen to the sound of my name pour from her lips in the most heavenly way as her face contorts, her cheeks flush, her eyes squeeze shut and her mouth rests against mine, her breaths invading ky mouth as well as her whimpers.
And it's enough, just by the way she's looking at me when she opens her eyes, to push me over the edge; so I buck a little, pushing in one, two more times before her lips covers mine and I'm burying myself as deep as possible, emptying kyself into her and whimpering her name against her mouth like she just did when she came undone.
Rosé's hips are still undulating again and again, rolling against mine and somewhere in the back of my mind, my body is reacting to that and pushing these moans up my throat, but I'm too focused on Rosé's kissing me, of her lips against mine and how she's kissing me like she wants to kiss me, not like she has to because we just slept together. It makes me feel everything at once, too much at once, and I swallow thickly when I part, but only go back to kissing her.
Somewhere along the line, she lifts her hips and I slide out of her, landing with a low wet slapping sound against my stomach, but I'm still just too focused and I'm sliding my fingers through her hair and locking our heads together, we kiss too, as she strokes her thumbs over the skin of my cheeks. I'm so lost in this, in the way it feels like I've just done more than had sex with my best friend, and so I just keep kissing her and let myself feel what I've held back for so long in the aftermath of our join orgasms.
There's just no point in denying it anymore.