ANDREA IV

Rain taps gently against the windowpane, its soft rhythm soothing, almost like a lullaby lingering in the early hours of the morning. Outside, the world is shrouded in a gray hush, the streets damp and glistening beneath the kiss of dawn.

The red‑digit clock on the nightstand blinks; showing that it was six in the morning.

Inside the cozy apartment, the bedroom is cloaked in a dim amber glow from a single candle whose deep‑berry scent perfumes the air—sweet, tangy, and comforting. Clothing lies in disarray across the wooden floor, scattered trophies of last night’s fervent passion; Ellie’s soft flannel shirt draped over the armchair, one sock half‑stuffed into her boot, your own underwear tangled somewhere near the foot of the bed like a silken white flag of surrender.

Beneath a thick, off‑white blanket you are wrapped up together, a knot of limbs and quiet heat. Ellie’s arms encircle your waist as if she never intends to let go. Her head is tucked just below the curve of your breasts, your skin her personal pillow. Her cheek feels pleasantly cool on your warm torso, her breaths gentle puffs of air that graze you and leave goosebumps in their wake.

You drift in a hazy space between dreams and waking until a flutter of kisses brushes your neck—soft, feather‑light, the kind that say I treasure this and I treasure you. The affection woven into every press of Ellie’s lips stirs you more effectively than any alarm. A languid hum slips from your throat as your fingers instinctively slide into her short, tousled hair. She looks up at you, green eyes drowsy but brimming with warmth.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” she whispers, voice hoarse with sleep yet tender enough to melt steel.

Your lips curve sleepily. “Hi," you murmur back, the single word coated in the honeyed haze of early hour intimacy. Ellie props herself on one elbow, brushing a stray lock behind your ear. Her palm settles on your waist, thumb drawing lazy circles that kindle sparks beneath your skin.

“You feel okay, baby?” she asks softly, searching your gaze. “Was I too rough on you?”

Last night rushes back; love, heat, hunger, whispered confessions spoken on shaky breaths. The way your moans and whimpers were the realest form of heavenly sound in her ears, and her green eyes lit like all the bright stars when she saw the entirety of you—raw, tender, and wild.

You swallow, heart swelling until it nudges your ribs.

“More than okay,” you say, cupping her freckled cheek. “I loved every second of it.”

Ellie’s lips lift into a smile so radiant it rivals sunrise. She leans down to kiss you—slow, reverent, savoring. When she finally pulls away you feel as if your soul has been dipped in warm sunlight. “Good,” she murmurs. “Because that sex, it healed me, babe."

You let out a soft chuckle before she continued, "Could practically provide a full fucking health insurance.”

Then you cackled, "Weirdo." And Ellie just gave you the stupid grin you fell in love with.

The candle flickers, casting soft shadows that dance lazily over the ceiling. Rain provides a steady backbeat as you and Ellie lie in each other’s arms, trading unhurried kisses punctuated by little sighs of contentment. She murmured gentle phrases in your ear like "you're so beautiful" and "can't wait to marry you one day" that made your cheeks heated. There is no rush in your world; the outside may be full of schedules and obligations, but here time stretches like liquid caramel.

Ellie snuggles closer, burying her nose against your collarbone. “Let’s stay in bed all day,” she proposes, voice muffled.

“We don’t have to do anything today,” you tease, tracing invisible patterns on the strong line of her shoulder.

“Exactly.” She lifts her head just enough to smirk. “Which means I get to do this.” A playful kiss to your chin, then your jaw, she went lower and doesn't stop until her lips kissed one of your perky nipples. Each press of her mouth is a tiny spark, and together they build a gentle fire in your chest.

Minutes—or maybe hours—slip by in a blur of half‑sleep loops. You drift off, wake to her fingertips twining through yours, drift again. Occasionally you talk in whispers about nothing: the dream she had where a dinosaur tried to steal your coffee, the song repeating in your head, the shape the rainwater makes on the balcony railing. There is intimacy in sharing the mundane; it is a different kind of nakedness, one that bares the heart.

Eventually the candle has melted into a berry‑scented puddle of wax and the rain outside softens to the hush of mist.

♡ + ♡ + ♡ + ♡ + ♡ + ♡ + ♡ + ♡ + ♡ + ♡ + ♡

The bathroom was warm with steam, the windows fogged up, and the soft sound of water gently sloshing in the tub filled the space. The bubble bath was full, soft foam cresting over the rim, shimmering under the golden bathroom light. The air was heady with the scent of berry and warmth, clinging to your skin like a memory.

Your girlfriend insisted for you both to have a bath together. She claimed so innocently like her expression made of cotton, saying something like "the water crisis is increasing, must start using it wisely to support earth welfare" when what she actually wanted was to see your glistening naked skin pressed against hers.

Ellie stepped into the tub first, letting out a satisfied hum as the hot water wrapped around her sore muscles, the heat soaking into her skin. She settled against the back of the tub with her legs stretched out, arms draped along the edge, her toned frame relaxed, bare, and glistening in the haze.

She looked over at you with that familiar lazy smirk. “C’mere, baby. Water’s perfect.”

You slid in carefully, the heat rising up your spine, making you sigh out loud as it welcomed you in. Without a word, Ellie opened her arms and guided you back into her embrace, pulling you gently to lean against her chest. Her hands found your waist underwater, fingers splaying lovingly across your stomach.

Your back pressed into her front, her chin resting just over your shoulder. The warmth of the water was nothing compared to the warmth of her skin wrapped around yours. Every inch of you softened into her, into the comfort of being held, of being cared for.

“Mmm,” Ellie murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Perfect fit, aren't you?”

You smiled and let your head rest against hers. Her arms curled tighter around you, one hand trailing up to cup your breast under the water, giving it light squeezes, thumb stroking gently. It wasn’t sexual, not really. Not yet.

It was grounding. Intimate. Devotional.

“So pretty,” she whispered into your damp skin, her gaze coming back to you, "Feel good?"

“Like heaven,” you replied, voice low and relaxed. “I never want to move.”

“Take your time, baby," She kissed your shoulder next, slow and soft. “I've got you.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as her fingers started drawing little circles along your thigh, the movements slow, hypnotic. Every few moments she’d shift to press a kiss somewhere new—the back of your neck, behind your ear—like she couldn’t get enough of you, like you were something delicate she was learning all over again.

“You smell like berries,” she mumbled, smiling without opening her eyes.

You chuckled softly, felt her breath warm on your ear, “That candle’s really working overtime.”

“Or maybe it’s you,” she teased, turning your face just enough to meet her lips for a kiss.

You kissed her back immediately, the hand on your thigh stilling as she leaned into you, water shifting gently around your bodies. The kiss was slow, deep, unhurried. Her tongue brushed lightly against yours, tasting you like it was the first time all over again. She held you tighter, the water sloshing softly as her knees bent to keep you nestled snug between them.

When the kiss broke, she didn’t pull far—just rested her forehead against the side of your face.

“You’re everything,” she whispered.

Your fingers found hers underwater and laced them together, “Sappy,” You whispered.

Ellie smirked against your skin, “You say that like you wouldn't let me get into your pants every night.”

She earned a little smack.

You turned in her arms just enough to kiss her again—more tender this time, full of quiet gratitude and aching affection. Her hands roamed your back, soothing, loving, like she was anchoring herself to you.

They stayed that way for a long time—just two bodies molded together in heat and silence. Even as the water began to cool, neither of you moved. Ellie shifted only to brush a few bubbles off your shoulder or adjust the way her legs cradled yours. You leaned into her, fully, completely, letting her hold all of you.

“Let’s never leave this tub,” you whispered, only half-joking.

Ellie nuzzled your cheek, her smile audible in her voice. “Deal. But only if I get to wash your hair.”

You laughed, heart full. “That’s your condition?”

“That and maybe.. " She trailed, her lips curled into a smirk, "Making out with you for like... twenty more minutes.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re irresistible.”

You melted into laughter, then into another kiss, and another, and then one more that didn’t end for a while. The tub may have cooled, but the heat between you hadn’t gone anywhere.

Wrapped in each other, hearts unguarded, the world outside could’ve vanished—and neither of you would’ve noticed. [•]

I.NEED.ELLIE.FUCKING.WILLIAMS.

end of story.