#traindesire

[themetasophia]

I should've left her Sleeper Car

She told herself it was just writing. Just a passing thought.

But then she imagined what her skin might feel like. How she'd smell—jasmine and sandalwood, maybe vanilla if she got close enough.

She wondered what it would be like to rub lotion on her back. Slowly. Reverently. Like worship.

And that was enough to make her slam the journal shut and leave without a word.

[themetasophia]

She didn't mean to end up there.

She didn't mean to end up there when she was getting dressed, but nether one protested when she stayed.

She told herself it was just writing. Just a passing thought.

But then she imagined what her skin might feel like. How she'd smell—jasmine and sandalwood, maybe vanilla if she got close enough.

She wondered what it would be like to rub lotion on her back. Slowly. Reverently. Like worship.

And that was enough to make her slam the journal shut and leave without a word.