POWER MANIACS (girlxgirlxgirl)

29. Bubble pop kiss

🎆

⚠️ PG-15 ⚠️

Enya quickly realizes what she has just done, and quickly pulls away from the other tall Powered. Even though it feels like pulling away from something that she needs so desperately, even though it feels like Irie's lips are her only lifeline. It's quiet in the ice powered's perfect bedroom, as the two stare at each other with horror in their eyes and a blush over their cheeks.

Irie's bed is so perfect it's almost annoying. Three decorative pillows in a dark, velvet blue, sitting on a perfect row above them. The white cover is completely without wrinkles, evenly placed on all sides of the bed. Enya feels a strong urge to mess it all up. To mess it all up with Irie. But she has made a mistake. Irie is her friend, not her lover. Whatever feelings she has are one sided. Irie must hate her now. It's the easiest conclusion to come to. So the fire powered basks in the moment, possibly her last calm moment with Irie, before their relationship turns into a cold, awkward mess.

Together, they just breathe. Irie's breath, however, seems to stutter. Slowly her hands rise up to touch her lips. Neither of them dare to speak, least not Enya. It would be scary to open her mouth right now, like ripping off a band-aid or popping a bubble. She watches as Irie touches her lips for a while, the ice powered's eyes wide open in shock. At least Enya did one thing right. There is no way Irie is still thinking about all those sorrows she had on her mind before. That makes a small, nearly invisible smile spread across her face. Irie is so beautiful. She is so wonderful. And so f*cking hot.

Holding back from kissing her again, holding back from absolutely ruining this bed below them, Enya does her best. Even though it feels like she is being pushed by an outer force, pushed and pushed and she has to stay absolutely still to not ruin their friendship further. Because that's exactly what she would do. Ruin it so hard it would be remembered for days.

"You think this is against the company rules?"

Enya is surprised by Irie's sudden question. She opens her mouth like a fish, unable to answer, just staring dumbly at the girl in front of her. Is this against the company rules? Kissing? Or something more? Enya's brain feels empty for the first time ever. When she looks at Irie, the ice girl is no longer shocked and frozen anymore. No, she looks weirdly smug, and it sends shivers up Enya's spine. Is this some sort of revenge tactic? Enya was clearly wrong for kissing her like this, out of nowhere. Does Irie want revenge? Enya's dumb brain can't think of anything productive to say.

She feels especially dumb and empty in the brain when Irie's hands rises up to her head, and gently pushes a strand of her blackish red-hair behind her ear. Such a gentle touch. Such a casual moment. And yet Enya feels like she has been lit on fire. Her eyes glow in red, her hands twitch. It becomes apparent that it is incredibly hard for her to hold back anymore. Not when Irie is sitting in front of her, looking like that. But the ice powered only smiles wider, her near canine teeth showing behind her perfect, soft lips.

"I think it is, you know. Against the rules"

Irie tilts her head. Enya tries to settle into the moment, tries not to act so dumbly in front of such a goddess. Everything is suddenly so different. One moment it's Irie, her best friend of five years, and the next it's f*cking Irie, some kind of unnatural demon or angel with the most enchanting features one could ever create. Enya tries not to sound too choked up when she answers. God, she is in near tears at the sight of this woman.

"Is that bad?"

Irie grabs her jaw, gently, softly, a touch that is barely there. But with that gentle touch she can pull Enya forwards almost like she had a collar, calling, beckoning the fire girl towards her with such unnoticeable power it makes Enya shiver all over. Even though Enya sometimes uses that tactic too, it's always so incredible to see Irie control everyone in a room just by a single look, a single touch, just by one word. Her tone can be commanding without having to be raised. Her touch can be demanding and dangerous without putting a single amount of pressure. Her eyes can be intimidating without giving a single expression. Enya wants her. She needs her. And so she follows Irie's grip forwards, until they are close enough to hear each other breathe, close enough to let their noses touch.