daughter who takes her mother out on the town regularly, to cafes and movies and shopping sprees. mother who thinks it’s silly and fun to call these outings their little mother daughter dates.
daughter who tosses and turns in bed every night, who can’t stop thinking about how she’s basically dating her mom. who can’t help but wish she were really dating her mom.
mother who notices her daughter getting quieter when they’re together, not distant, but almost contemplative. as if she’s started to really hang on every one of her mothers words. mother who notices the stolen looks, the flickering of eyes toward lips.
mother who notices all the light touches. the closeness. mother who notices as her daughter stops being so careful, tentative. mother who watches as every touch becomes more and more obvious, more and unapologetic. mother who knows she should be better, mother who can’t help but let it happen.
daughter who introduces her mother to clubbing for the first time. mother who gets too drunk, daughter who wants to dance, who holds her mother close on the dance floor.
mother and daughter who move together, along with the music, along with each other. bodies against each other, learning about the warmths they’ve never been brave enough to discover.
mother who can’t take it anymore. daughter who watches her mother’s eyes flutter closed, who watches her mother lean in. mother who can’t remember the last time someone had taken her so desperately.
mother and daughter who fight for breath on the dance floor, who kiss and hold and touch eachother like their lives depend on it.
mother and daughter who are done pretending like they’re not in love, who won’t pretend this isn’t a date, who are done pretending that they don’t want this <3
