It's almost pitch black when you crack one eye open. The dim sliver of light from the narrow gap your drawn curtains failed to cover barely illuminates your room. You have no memory of last night's events, but the dull throbbing in your head makes you guess that alcohol was most probably involved.
As you open your other eye, the area slowly comes into focus. You strain your pupils to adjust to the darkness and learn that you are, in fact, not in your bedroom. You look to your left and you see that your hair is strewn all over a pillow that isn't yours, you look down and find your long limbs tangled in white sheets so luxurious that they couldn't be yours.
You're still half asleep at this point. The sound coming from the soft pattering of the rain against this stranger's windows is calming, so much so that it makes you just want to sink deeper into the sheets until sleep takes you again. But watching the raindrops make tiny ripples on the cobbled streets has always been one of your favorite things in the world, and that urge to smell the distinct scent of the rain that only comes out after the first few minutes was stronger. So you get up from the quicksand that is the bed and head out to the balcony barefoot.
The corners of your mouth tug on both sides as you register a figure leaning against wrought iron ledges in front of you. There she stands with her back turned, clutching a warm coffee mug too big for her slender fingers, wearing an old pair of earphones- one on her right ear, the other just dangling, hips swaying side to side to the music. You take 4 or 5 steps forward so you are standing next to her. You don't spare each other a glance- you just look on, enjoying the rain. Wordlessly, she gets the other earphone and places them in your ear.
The soft gesture makes you look at each other, her eyes practically disappear and whisker-like dimples show on her cheeks as she gives you the most disarming and devious smile you've ever seen.
"It's raining.", she says. Then you see her shift her gaze down to your swollen lips, and you watch as her pupils dilate, dripping with want.
Your mind finally catches up and you get fragments of last night's activities in flashes. Your cheeks color as you recall the sensation of burning skin on skin, the feeling of being deliciously filled with her digits as she pumps in and out until you were seeing white, your voice raspy from all the times you said "Yes! Jiyeon!", "Fuck! Jiyeon!" as if those were the only words you knew.
She traces the contours of your lips with her pointer finger and experimentally dips it inside your mouth. Your tongue swirls around it gingerly and you involuntarily close your eyes as you lightly suck on it before you take the entire digit in. You nearly lose your composure when you hear a primal moan erupt from her. Your eyes roll back in pleasure and it takes EVERYTHING in you to resist the need to just push her against the balcony rails, get on your knees and have her spilling all over your face until she can barely stand.
Instead, you pull her back to the room and throw her back to the bed. Buried between Jiyeon's legs, devouring her core- this is exactly how you want to spend the rest of the rainy Saturday afternoon.
