where's my mind / poetry, oneshots etc.

love / zolana

three weeks later

alana and zoe are squashed together in the back room of the record shop connor works part time in.

they listen to the song that plays softly. alana faintly remembers the words –she's heard her mother sing it once or twice– and quietly sings along under her breath.

she doesn't realise zoe is staring at her until she looks up at the end of the song to her friend staring at her, eyes glistening, the biggest smile she's ever seen on her lips.

"alana, that was– beautiful," she whispers, completely and utterly awe-struck.

"oh, uh–" alana clears her throat, feeling her cheeks flame– "thank you. i, um–"

"were'd you learn to sing like that?"

"i– i just– nowhere."

zoe shakes her head, that smile well and truly plastered to her lips. "you have a voice of an angel."

alana mumbles another thank you and lets her gaze drift to the shelves, stacked with records and dust. lots of dust.

the two sit in a comfortable silence for a few moments, before zoe says suddenly, "can we kiss?"

alana's head jerks up, eyes wide with shock. "what?"

zoe pales and shakes her head, backing away slowly. "n-no, never mind– for– forget i said anything."

alana peers at her friend. she shakes furiously and her lip wobbles and alana can't bare the sight of someone being terrified of her.

she takes zoe's hand.

"i would love to." she says softly.

and their lips meet.

this was love.

love: forbidden, desperate kisses in a cramped, dusty record shop as a cheesy love song drones in the background.

love: a black girl and a white girl nervously holding hands under the lunch table, knowing it was so so wrong.

love: the world falling away as lips meet again and again and again, hungry for reassurance.

stolen glances; careful whispers; comforting smiles.

love.

forbidden. nervous. right.

•

i just love writing forbidden gayness i'm probably gonna turn this au into a book that i'll never update lmaoo