that shit moment

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In a shaky voice, Roseanne baited Lisa, "Remind me again which part of this was cleaning?"

"Who showed up seductively hot in post-workout bra and leggings? In the lightest pastel purple?" Lisa spoke raggedly, panting from the make-out she initiated when they were back in the studio.

"Yeah, very 'couply' with your jacket."

Lisa smirked and then emphasized, "In the fucking lightest shade of pastel purple."

"That's the only kind of cursing I'll take from you." Roseanne cupped Lisa's face, swooning at its smallness that enormously filled her void.

Instead of picking up the mop, the trash bag, and the moisturizing soap to start removing dried paints and throwing scraps, Lisa picked up Roseanne and showered the supermodel with kisses all over the exposed skin she could reach—cheek, neck, chin, shoulder, chest, arm, wrist—and buried herself in her underarm, smelling, kissing, and calling it her favorite part.

Which tickled Roseanne she squirmed and shrieked. Lisa teased if that was her most ticklish part, but the former had no plan to admit that, and to distract Lisa, she tugged the artist's earlobe with her teeth. That was when Lisa's arms weakened, she brought Roseanne down the sofa bed, forgetting the practical worry that it might not hold them both. All she could think of then was how she wanted to hold Roseanne closer than she already did.

"You've been naughty a lot lately."

Roseanne chuckled, feeling her steamy breath bouncing back at her lips from Lisa's closeness. "Blaming me again, huh?"

"I've seen you naked but nothing's sexier than you in clothes."

"You said that, right? 'I like you more with clothes on.' Should I keep them on?" Roseanne husked, teasing.

Lisa stared at Roseanne intensely. "You're killing me either way."

"Make sure you locked the door."

"Damn doors and people who just barge in." Lisa's eyes swam deeply into Roseanne's, seeking how deep into the wildness of its forests could she trek in. "Chaeyoung, I want you," she whispered against Roseanne's lips. "Only you."

"Show me how much," in a breathy voice, Roseanne tempted Lisa by the look she gave those full lips that were just on hers a minute ago.

Lisa gave in to the temptation without prolonging agonies. She touched her lips against Roseanne's and then laid her mouth on her mouth, belonging, never to be separate again, like rain and water that provided sustenance. Kissing Roseanne was drizzle, washing the blotches of yesteryears, including the physical pain of the fistfight the previous night.

For a while, Roseanne's one hand threaded through Lisa's hair, the other stroked her cheek and roamed on her neck, and then rested on her shoulder blade. Lisa kissed and was kissed back, learning a new kind of beat in her chest that counted time in a different tick.



A couple of breaths of Chaeyoung before I leaped into the unconscious uncomprehending of anything else I desired more than her.


Three seconds in between breaths for my lungs not to explode from Chaeyoung's milk, honey, and rose scent, thrice that to put my lips back on those misconstrued pleas hanging on her lips.


Kiss me five times more, Chaeyoung, and take me to your wildest forest fires on that fifth time. You are soft. Mild. You are tender.

a misty gashed apertureWhere stories live. Discover now