going wild in my mind
When: 12:34 a.m. Where: Supernova
Romy can't stop staring at Fryda's lips. The club's strobe lights keep catching the sheen of her gloss, making it gleam like morning dew. She wishes, suddenly and feverishly, that she could run her tongue across that plump bottom lip.
The club vibrates with infectious dance music. It thrums like a heartbeat. Romy takes a sip of her drink, a citrus concoction with a tropical name, but it doesn't have the taste she's searching for. The last time they kissed, Fryda tasted like peaches. What would she taste like tonight? Romy's thoughts are going to explicit places, and she needs to rein them in. And fast.
"Hey, let's dance," she urges, tugging Fryda out into a sea of gyrating bodies. She's not sure if this is helping her achieve mission 'don't be so horny in public,' but it's something. The fact of the matter was, Romy loved spending time with Fryda. She was cool, smart as a whip, and funny as hell. They've known each other for going on three weeks, and have only hooked up once, but she enjoys being in her company. Fryda's presence exudes repose and freedom, as if there's no pressure to be anything other than who she was. It's something that exists beyond the realm of language. It's impossible to put into words; it must be experienced.
@girlmetal