(y/n) ran her tongue over her teeth to get out the stuck pieces of of the pear she was eating as she lazily flicked through the television channels.
why's it so fucking cold, she thought to herself as she rolled off the couch to mess around with the AC device, the tiny hairs rising on her bare legs. she was in a large nirvana shirt that hung over her shoulders with no pants on, and fuzzy socks with Bambi on them. high fashion.
still feeling a little hungry, (y/n) slipped quietly into the kitchen and opened the fridge in hopes of something slightly unhealthier and more satisfying than a pear. she settled on ice cream, and she sat on the kitchen counter, taking spoonfuls straight out of the tub of cookies and cream. for what was probably the millionth time that week, her mind wandered again to a certain boy.
she couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking about their strange and short, yet sweet interaction the other day at the park. was he thinking of her, too? or was she just another girl he shamelessly flirted with, without any actual intention....except potential sex if he felt like it. (y/n) was an analytical girl, always had been. such thoughts were bound to cross her mind. she aggressively stabbed her spoon into the ice cream, trying to pick up a big piece of oreo, as she dangled her legs like a five year old on a swing. she had been feeling a little giddy since she met boris. the feeling of butterflies, constantly; his face in her brain at almost all times. little things reminded her of him, be it brownies or people smoking cigarettes or the documentary on Saudi Arabia that her father was watching late at night. she didn't know what to make of these feelings, or what they meant at all to her. she just knew they were there, and they were something, developing and growing more vivid the more she thought about them. and she had no control over that.
(y/n) hadn't realized she was biting her lip until after a few second, she didn't even notice that she was so lost in thought about his plump lips and intense eyes, his tall figure and dark, messy hair. she couldn't even help but feel something deep in the pit of her stomach, an embarrassing to admit, but oh-so-good feeling.
how is his touch?
i mean, he had a girlfriend, kotku, or whatever, (y/n) thought, annoyedly. bet they fucked...GOD...why am i thinking about this i don't even know the guy STOP.
but she was.
she stared at the floor, clenching her thighs, completely zoned out. the mere idea was driving her a little wild, even if it was completely hypothetical and unrealistic.
his lips mixed with hers. his hands all over her soft skin. the thought of him panting as they touched, his accented, breathy voice chanting her name, over and over.
fuck.
i have to stop it.
(y/n) shook her head as she hopped off the counter, confused and a little dazed.
as she sat back on the couch, her phone lit up with an alert.
xxx-xxx-xxx: Hey, printsessa. Long time no chat? what are you up to tonight?