wtvrsofia:
sofia has always felt like her organs are spliced with an anger that she can’t shake, a hereditary trait from her father that always warned her that she was more him than she had ever wanted to be. her fuse is so short that it’s constantly kissing the gunpowder. but with aspen, she could feel s e r e n i t y settling around her. with aspen, she is a clean slate, full of possibilities. it is scary to her for a moment, so terrifying that it grips her body, to equate those feelings with someone so capable of breaking her heat. but that subsides when aspen’s hands are cradling her jawline, making her feel as if she could battle anything — be anything. chapped lips are trailing over aspen’s jaw and then teh soft skin underneath her ear. “i want to make you feel good.”
while this wasn’t something new to aspen at all, the sensation of clashing teeth and clumsy hands had been the foundation of her youth, she still seemed to find herself clueless at the way she so was very, very curious while somehow simultaneously terrified of every aspect of sofia’s body. aspen was inquisitive by nature and while that often caused her more trouble than it’s worth, while it had been the reason she’d started to see through the cracks in her family’s perfect stepford appearance she could find no faults with the way her curiosity wanted to sate itself tonight -- her hands inevitably unable to keep to themselves, stretching out to trace the curve and angle of sofia’s intoxicating collarbones. at the other girls words aspen felt her heart pick up, coming off a little shy as she nodded fervently, her skin seemingly on fire with the promise of someone like sofia making her feel something beyond the anguish and inner turmoil she usually fought with. “please -- please do. i want that too.”













