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>>bonus chapter: mature/explicit content. feel free to skip this part. Read at your own risk lol. <<

Brooklyn Noelle Brankovich

Chapter Thirty-four: "Midnight emissions"

Cassie and I, still high, made our way upstairs. She was starving and insisted on going inside to get something to eat. I heard that was a thing after getting high, being hungry. It's called having the "munchies" I think?

I really enjoyed my time with Cass, she's great. Honestly, I think we're going to be good friends. I can see it now, the four of us - her, me, Gael, and Noah - being close like the cast of Friends (lame show, but you get the reference.)

Cassie wandered to her apartment, still giggling at nothing, when I went and knocked on Noah's door. He didn't come right away so I pushed the door open.
Of course it's unlocked. My eyes rolled as I stomped inside and locked the door after me.

"Noah?" I called out his name. Everything felt funny, like I wasn't in my body. I was so aware and light. And I felt everything.

With no response, I almost figured he wasn't home

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With no response, I almost figured he wasn't home. Then, I walked inside his bedroom that was tidy but his blanket was pulled back like he was ready for sleep. The clothes he wore all day were thrown across his white fur rug at the foot of his bed.

"Noah!" I yelled for him again.

As I neared the master bathroom door, I heard music playing and the shower running. I pushed the door open and called for him one final time, this time louder than the others.

"Yo!" He shouted back, over the music. Noah looked over the shower and saw me with my eyes closed.

"Hey, girl," he greeted me, pausing the blaring rap music.

"I'm really high, and I wanted to see you," I cackled, putting my back to the door.

"Tell me all about it when I get out," his voice strained like he was losing it, "just, wait for me!"

"Okay," I said but my voice wasn't loud enough for him to hear. Noah resumed the music and continued to lather his body.

I tried walking away but my eyes wandered back to his dripping body. So, when I went to shut the door I only left it cracked - not that he could tell - but it was just wide enough for me to see his perfect reflection in the mirror.

His back was to the stream and he mumbled a few of the lyrics, combing his fingers through his shampooed hair. I wish I was that hair.

I can't help that I'm horny, I'm uber attracted to him, but it's also the weed talking.

I gulped, getting even more turned on as his large hands roaming his skin. He grabbed a rag and started scrubbing every inch of himself thoroughly.

I should stop looking, I thought. I should walk away and wait like he said. This is creepy. If roles were reversed, I'd call him a perv and everything else.

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