I can't help the moan that escapes my mouth at the taste of her tongue against mine, and my hips pulse reflexively up to meet hers. But before I can reach the heat emanating from her core, she grasps my neck in her hand and pushes me away, pressing...
how y'all horny hoes been? long time no queef, amiright 😏 hope you enjoy 💜
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I must be dreaming .
While keeping my eyes on what is clearly a flawless apparition before me, I slowly raise my right arm to pinch the sensitive skin near the dip in my collarbone. I jump and wince, honestly not expecting the pain.
I pinch myself again for good measure. The sharp sting brings me back to the present moment.
On campus.
In my dorm room.
Where Valencia stands, looking like a single flower in a desolate wasteland.
I watch her take slow calculated steps around the room, stopping to look intently at the only two pictures I have. One of my parents and me as a gangly child, one of my grandparents and me as an awkward teenager. I watch intently as the corner of her lips tilt while she holds both photos up, her eyes rapidly flickering between the two, as though she couldn't decide which one to thoroughly examine first so she took a shot at both.
I ungracefully rock myself back and forth on my heels in front of the door, not quite sure what to do with myself. All I know is that Oli's practice was supposed to end a minute ago and he'll be back from goofing off with his brainless jock friends any minute. The last thing I need is his rude ass opening his mouth. This must be – no, this will be – a quick in and out before Oli even knows she was here. But god, how am I supposed to rush any time with the woman that simultaneously makes me feel impenetrable yet so weak.
She's so fucking beautiful I'm at a loss for words in the one place I should technically feel comfortable in.
She turns back to me, an unreadable expression marring her face. I tilt my head, wordlessly asking what's on her mind.
"You look so happy here," she says, pointing to the picture of a 5 year old Kai with a toothless smile, ensnared in a tight embrace by his mother while his father makes a silly face over their heads. The love is so present in the photo that it hums with life. The happiness is irrefutable.
"But this expression I recognize," she trails off, eyes slowly fading into a dull shade that tells me her mind is no longer fully present in the room. I give her a moment to gather her thoughts, and she shakes her head out of her stupor. "It's the one you see in a child forced to grow up too soon."
I don't say anything.
Not because I don't want to, but because I'm in shock.
Because I didn't really think of it that way.
I lost my parents. I moved in with my grandparents.
I didn't stop to think that the burden I carried, and how the blood shed changed how I saw the world. I saw its dark and sinister underbelly, and in fear of being exposed to it again, I closed myself off.
