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"you know friends don't kiss friends, sugar." Biting her lips, she set herself comfortably on his table before leaning back, making sure her cleavage in line with his sight. The slight twitch of his jaw indicated that it was. Playfully twisting the button of her shirt, she smirked and lightly pushed him with her signature red heel. "But we're not just friends."
“friends don’t kiss friends.”
picking up the quill, she writes in the leather journal:
┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓
and this is how our story began.
stumbling into the unknown, together
feeding off the lust
living on the pretence
until
the line between lust and love
disappears.
tell me, how does this ends?
┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛
...
the quill now back to it’s rightful place.
her smile falters, but only just for a fraction
before glancing at
the beautiful man sleeping soundly.
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