It was strange. I laid there, knowing exactly how turned on I got from her being that near to me – and pulled her even closer. So close, that there didn't seem to be the possibility for us to get any closer. My right leg was between the two of hers and her left one was wrapped around my ass and hips. I pressed my belly against hers and engulfed my face in her chest. As always, she smelled a bit like vanilla and a bit like home. I had my arms twined around her upper body the same way hers held mine. When I clung at her as a respond to her attempt of letting me go, she laughed in my hair. "Alright", she mumbled and squeezed me against her, agreeing to us staying in bed even longer.
As I did before, I asked myself, if I would want her to kiss me. Not on my head or on the forehead – she had done both of those before – but on my lips. And as before, I came to the conclusion that I didn't. I loved her, but not in that way. I did not want to kiss her and I did not want to sleep with her. Both of these thoughts felt really odd.
But when I tried to imagine us laying on two different mattresses as my parents thought we did right now, I got the same odd feeling. And that was, when I knew – again – that we are right, just as we are. "It's a quite peculiar friendship we got here.", I said, speaking against her chest.
- 13.05.2022
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Kleines Geschreibsel
RandomKennt ihr diese kleinen Schreibattacken, in denen ihr eine Idee habt, die ihr unbedingt in Worte fassen wollt, aber für eine ganze Geschichte oder einen längeren Text reicht es nicht? Alles das, was dabei bei mir herauskommt (und nicht viel zu pers...
