Her Body (girlxgirl) COMPLETED

08 | P L E T H O R A

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P L E T H O R A

(n.) A large or excessive amount of something.
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BLEU OPENED her eyes the next morning with an arm unattached. She was almost startled to find that she couldn't feel her fingers. She lifted her head, her eyes bleary from sleep, and stopped short when her nose came in contact with the scent of cinnamon and vanilla.

Oh, shit.

Her bedmate had fallen asleep on her arm, thus cutting off the nerve supply. Her soft, brown waves tickled Bleu's sharp nose and she craned her neck to see the upturned face better.

Paris literally looked like an angel when she was asleep. Long, curled eyelashes rested against her freckles, her eyelids moving in her sleep. Her naturally red lips were slightly parted, giving Bleu a hint of pearly white teeth and a pink tongue. Her soft breaths hit her chin with every exhale. She realized then that the brunette had her in a lock-grip, her long bare legs slung over Bleu's pajama clad ones and an arm across her stomach. Bleu's shirt had somehow ridden up and had exposed part of her flat stomach, allowing skin contact with Paris' soft skin on her arm.

Her heart was beating in deep, pounding rhythms now, and she was worried the brunette might wake up because of it. Then the events of last night came back and hit her hard. Her best friend was royalty who was next in line for the throne. Paris' parents were dead. The dead heart in her sink. The threat. It was so hard to get her mind wrapped around what she had heard and found out last night, she didn't know what to believe. No one could go through all that and still be able to walk through the halls of the school laughing and smiling, right?

But then again, this is Paris. She's strong, humble, logical, and down-to-earth. Add that to her training in becoming a Princess and Bleu had no idea if she still knew the girl laying on her arm anymore. Who have you become, Paris?

Slowly, she untangled herself from the warm body on top of hers, careful not to wake her up. Paris made a soft groaning sound, the top of her nose wrinkling adorably before softening once more in sleep. Bleu released a breath she didn't know she was holding and made her way to her bathroom to shower. She needed a cold one.

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Paris woke up to the sun shining right at her eyes. She groaned, squinting hard and stretching. She found that the bed was empty. "Bleu must've gone down for breakfast," she shrugged before yawning and stretching her arms high above her head. The events of last night flashed through her mind and she froze, her eyes widening. Oh shit. I forgot I dropped the big bomb on my best friend last night. She scrambled to get up, almost running to her bag for her toiletries. Just going to take a shower and head downstairs to appease to her and calm her down, She told herself. I can't imagine what she must be feeling right now.

After placing her toothbrush on top of the towel and pile of clothes she had on her arm, she walked quickly to the bathroom and opened the door.

Oh my god.

Bleu was standing in front of the mirror, brushing her teeth with ear-pods in her ears and humming along to the tune. Paris briefly remembered that Bleu liked to keep an extra pair of ear-pods in her bathroom because she loved to listen to music whenever she could so that it could calm her. It was her daily ritual. And it looks like it hasn't changed. Just because that hadn't changed doesn't mean other factors of Bleu hadn't either.