ladies, gents and folks...her.
so, in celebration of bapo's artistic comeback, here's some yuriful dreamy nonsense starring these two i came up with at 2 am.
...safe to say i was hungry. blame it on all our food talk ;D
โ We took shelter from the storm raging outside in one of the abandoned mansion's lavish leisure rooms.
It was as the place was waiting for our arrival. Plush, velvety couches compelling guests to sink into its cushions, firewood piled inside the marble chimney that demanded to be lit. And, strangest of all... a bowl overflowing with fresh fruits, seemingly untouched by the passage of time.
The rational part of my brain knew I should have felt alarmed by this display, which looked awfully similar to a set up. But the truth is, I couldn't help but feel entirely at peace, filled with absolute certainty that as long as we remained here, nothing bad could happen to us.
I turned to face my partner for the night, surprised to find her already installed on one of the couches. Judging by her relaxed composure, she felt the same sense of safety emanating from this place as I did. I shifted closer to her, her hand reaching up to my elbow and her touch gently guiding me down to the cramped space besides her.
"Come on. Let's rest a little."
Now I'm laying down, my legs tangled with hers on the daybed. The sensation of her body pressed flush against my own is entirely surreal, her warmth dizzying. Her hand reaches up to the table behind us, picking a few grapes and plopping them in her mouth. I glance at the table over her shoulder. It has been a while since my last meal, and as suspicious as these fruits should have looked, the sight of them only makes my mouth water.
My train of thought is interrupted by the press of something cold on my lips.
"Here, take one. It's good."
Before I can think better of it, my mouth reflexively opens, teeth biting into the grape. It is even sweeter than I expected, no rot hidden inside. So I give in, letting her handfeed me the other half.
Her sharp, heavy gaze notices the faint trickle of juice rolling down the curve of my throat. She lets a tentative finger trace back its course, sending electric jolts through my veins in its wake as she wipes the stray drop away.
Her finger is grazing my lower lip now. The touch lingers for longer than necessary, the pad of her thumb pressing ever-so-slightly against the seam of my closed mouth, as if asking for entrance. My lips part around it, coaxing her finger inside. My bold gesture causes an audible hitch in her breath, faint but real. Just to hear her make this sound again, I let the tip of my tongue flicker around her captured thumb.
She abruptly retreats from my mouth with a wet pop, her warm palm sliding aside to settle on my jawline. A delicious shiver runs down my spine as I watch her face gradually lean closer to my own, her usually guarded steel eyes now half-lidded, glistening with unabashed hunger.
I feel the intensity of it radiate through my chest, heat pooling low in my guts as we finally lock lips. Underneath the flavor of grapes, she tastes like the cheap cigarettes she's always smoking, and rainwater.
...She tastes of coming home. โ
โ becca's brain while she's snoozing away all tucked in one of the safe room's bunk beds, probably. โก
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