#oh... oh.

I clutch my keys, becoming hyper aware of the situation. I turn around and put my back to yours.

     words sent a shiver down her spine  ,  electricity already coursing through the air  .  they had barely made it back home before they were all over one another  ,  passionate kisses and tugging at clothes before they’d even made it to the living room  .  @ltrooster​  had cornered bianca up against the wall  ,  arms pinned over her head at the wrists  .  she was at his mercy as always  .  lips part ever so slightly to let out a gasp  ,  and though she wanted to  (  and could  )  break free from her restraints  ,  she played along  .     ❛❛     i want you  ...  to taste me  .     ❜❜     words made it through just above a whisper and bianca noticed how it produced a  smirk  on her bradley’s features  .  how they had come to this  ,  she wasn’t sure  ,  it had all happened so fast  .  only thing she knew was that she missed his touch whenever he left  ,  the feel of him and his presence even  .     ❛❛     PLEASE  ,     ❜❜     whimper felt cursed in her lungs  ––  how he had her wrapped around his finger already  .  it was then she was finally released from her capture when bradley slowly fell to his knees before her  ,  and bianca could only watch him with awe  .  their gazes stayed locked even when large hand curled around her thigh and raised her leg over to rest on his shoulder  .  the small trail of kisses he left on her inner thigh sparked a fire in what felt like a thousand nerves all at once  ,  and one of her own hands curled into bradley’s hair whilst trying to suppress a breath hitched in her throat  .

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟, somewhere far, far away. Elbows on her knees, hands extended little out in front of her. Gaze lingered on her palms, and the several scars that decorated them, that was imprinted in her tissue. In her very soul, too. Mind was somewhere so far away that she had not even realized that one of her hands was shaking. Shaking, fidgeting - was this really what she had come to?  ...  But her train of thought was interrupted by the unexpected feeling of a hand that would claim hers. She recognized the softness of Jean’s skin immediately, every curve of her hand already carefully mapped out and stored in the back of her mind. In that moment, the mere acknowledgement of Jean’s presence was enough to tear her from the terrors that had dared to string her along, hand no longer twitched.  ❝ Hey-- ❞  Voice but a mere whisper, even little coarse with her dry throat. Bianca couldn’t even remember how long she had been sitting there for, she’d lost track of time.  ❝ I, uh- ... when did you get back? ❞

The first kiss is like a cup of hot tea. Its just you and the cup of tea. You're sitting alone. The setting is beautiful. You're dying for the tea but you know it's too hot now. But you know it has to happen. It has been in your mind long enough. You're just waiting for the perfect moment. Maybe now it's not too hot -- You lean forward, lift the cup. And while you bring it closer towards you, you don't look at anything else but it so that nothing goes wrong. Your hold is neither too delicate nor too strong. And then you bring it towards your face. You close your eyes to enjoy the moment so that you have no visual distractions.The first sip is just a touch with your lips. Not perfect yet? You wait another half a minute, keeping it right next to your face, doing things to make the moment come faster. This cycle goes on for a while, till the moment is reached when you feel that your chances can't get any better. You bring it closer this time. Now you've decided that you're going to do what you had to do, no matter what. You close your eyes. You hold it tight in your hands. And then each centimetre you bring it towards you, there is apprehension whether it will be as good as you had expected it. But now there is no stopping you. Once again, first a slight touch. But this time, there is no resistance. The lips open up. The contact is made. You let it consume you. Your mind is blank for a moment. It's perfect. Its so sweet that you're overwhelmed. You continue. You feel something rushing inside you. It's just so good. But obviously you don't finish the cup of tea in one go. After a few moments of the nirvana, you stop and place the cup back safely. And smile. Because now you know that the whole cup is yours. And no matter what, you won't let anyone take it away from you. How do I know? I guess it's because when it comes to love, she is my cup of tea. (Though she prefers coffee. Cold).

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde