* I like this story, so, part three.*
"You know I wouldn't miss out on that opportunity," Violet whispered softly, leaning in to seal their lips.
They both felt chills run through their bodies, making them shudder but with enthusiasm. It was something that felt right. It was meant to be. It was inevitable.
Violet pulled away, a smile spread on her cheeks, but Clementine had other ideas.
She gripped Violet's shirt, pulling her back in for another, deepening the kiss aggressively.
Violet wasn't surprised. She read Clementine correctly. She knew what kind of person she was from the second they had their first conversation.
She was shy, yet a social butterfly, secretive, but an open book. Patient but eager. Reserved, but also wanted people to see everything.
Everything about her was contradictory, but Violet understood it.
There was no need to waste time.
No need to take things slow.
There was a connection that the two shared. They weren't afraid to establish it. Fear would only keep them away from each other.
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Violet's eyes opened to the sound of Clementine's ringtone. It bothered her. Genuinely. But she was willing to put up with it for the brunette who was unsurprisingly still sound asleep in her arms. Her head rested on Violet's chest as if she were a pillow.
Violet admired her with a smile, taking in how peaceful she looked, even with messy hair and drool.
She knew Clementine like the back of her hand already.
There was nothing she could judge her for.
Just two weeks and she found out where she grew up, her family, her old schools, her job, everything.
It wasn't like it was hard to find.
Social media made it possible.
It doesn't take a genius to use the internet.
And it's not like Clementine was private. She didn't care to cover her body up after last night. She trusted Violet with everything she had to offer.
Violet didn't take her eyes off of the sleeping beauty.
She could watch her for hours, or she could snap her neck. It wouldn't take any effort.
But cooking breakfast would, and cooking was something Violet was somewhat good at.
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Violet flipped the hot cake, making sure both sides were well done. It had to be perfect.
Did she make them from scratch? Yes, but that doesn't mean they have to be messy.
Just as she was almost finished with the sausages, Clementine came waddling out of the room with an oversized T-shirt, yawning, and her hair in a very very very messy bun.
"Well, good morning, sleepyhead." Violet glanced at her for a second, flashing her a quick smile before taking the meat off of the stove. All she got was a groan from the girl, making her smile even more.
Clementine whispered a sweet, yet groggy "Morning." As she wrapped her arms around Violet's waist and rested her head on her back.
"I made some coffee for you. I know how you like it." Violet tried her best to move as little as possible, hoping not to make Clementine uncomfortable. "I wanna go back to bed... You're welcome to join if you'd like?" Clementine grinned into Violet's shirt, knowing what she actually meant by that.
"Oh, it was that good?" Violet asked with a cocky tone, her sarcasm meaning nothing too serious.
"Mmmm, I'd say second best."
"Really? Ouch."
It seemed like Violet was playing, but truly, she was taking it to the heart. Remembering everything she did wrong. Whenever Clementine wasn't making some form of noise, Violet knew not to do that next time.
"Okay, but If im being honest, you were probably about a centimeter away from being the best. One more round would've topped it off." Clementine chuckled, sitting down on the counter, her legs dangling off the edge.
"No underwear? How sinful."
"You didn't complain last night." Clementine shrugged, obviously teasing Violet with a very charismatic charm to her voice. "How about I come over after work? Today's a short day." Violet waited for an answer as she took a bite out of a sausage and handed a plate to Clementine.
"I have to write today... You know, for the MFA program? I'm supposed to write a poem about something meaningful, but I can't put anything into words."
"Well, believe it or not, I'm all about creative writing, so, I could help you if you need me to."
"No funny business. Okay?"
"Can't make any promises."
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The whole day, all Violet could think about was Clementine.
What she tasted like.
What she smelled like.
Her face.
Her body.
Her.
All of her.
She watched all of her Instagram stories over and over again, every time she watched, they became more and more addictive.
Violet couldn't stop herself. Even if she tried to, she'd get the feeling, the same one she'd get as if she had to sneeze and it went away. It'd feel like that until she watched them. Over and over again.
Meanwhile, Clementine hit a brick wall with her poem.
1:24 and still only one sentence down.
Clementine had a bad habit of telling herself that she was useless and uncreative. Violet strongly believed otherwise.
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Clem <3: I can't write about anything. I'm so fucking uncreative.
Flwerbby: Don't tell yourself that, love. You're amazing. What's wrong? Talk to me.
Clem<3: I'm having a hard time turning feelings into words. I don't know why.
Flwerbby: My shift is up in about 2 hours. I'll be over as soon as I can. I'll just go home and change into something comfortable and I'll be on my way. I'll show you how I do it.
Clem <3: I miss you, stranger. :(
Flwerbby: I know, I miss you too, but I'll be over as fast as I can. Trust me, you don't wanna see me in scrubs.
Clem <3: Alright, well, drive safe. If you need anything, call me
Flwerbby: I will. Be safe as well. I've gotta go now. I'll try to check up on you in about an hour or so.
Clem <3: Okey dokey :)
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Clementine sat on the couch in the living room couch, checking the window and her phone every 5 minutes until 2 and a half hours passed.
Just when she almost fell asleep, her phone rang.
She already knew who it was.
"Hello?" Clementine answered with a sing-songy tone to her voice.
"Yeah, Clem, I'll be on my way in a little, I had to do print something for a friend. I'm almost done."
"I was starting to think you forgot about me or something." Clementine pouted but planted a smile on her face. She couldn't resist it. She was attached already.
"Trust me, you're on my mind, sweetheart."
A/N: If yall want smut, let me know, because I'll gladly write it, just don't know where the general audience stands on this topic.