Gradually opening her eyes at the phone alarm, Roseanne stretched an arm to turn it off, careful of waking Lisa who was still getting over her jetlag. Despite her trying her best not to make too much movement, it still caused the artist to move closer, she felt the arm that was already hugging her wrapped tighter around her midriff.
Smiling at the gesture, she slowly turned to face Lisa and watch her quiet in-breaths and out-breaths through her half-opened lips. Each breath created a rhythmic sound that echoed through her secret places and found calm.
Waking up next to someone for the first time, and beside a woman she was starting to care about, she felt a tremendous amount of coming home and being wrapped in the softest blanket.
She stared at Lisa's sleeping face, so small and flawless, its bareness exuded innocence that if she would describe Lisa's color that morning, it was white. The whitest white, if that could ever exist. That must be how her heart looked too.
Lisa moved her eyelids and opened her eyes fuzzily. Upon seeing Roseanne watching her, the first thing she did was smile. Waking up next to her muse felt like the sun was no longer made to set on all days to come. "You're so beautiful."
"No, you are." Roseanne leaned in to kiss Lisa on the lips. "Good morning, you."
"Can we just stay like this?"
"I wish, but Ash will kill me if we miss breakfast because Fabula's always been our tradition. Well, her tradition." Roseanne sat up tentatively and then straightaway dove in to give Lisa's lips a peck. "But," she paused to plant another peck, "we'll," and another one, "have our own," and one more, "tradition."
Beaming at the gesture, Lisa cupped the supermodel's face. "You think that worked?"
"I think it did." A smirk formed on Roseanne's lips. "Why, what are you—" Before she could finish her question, Lisa suddenly sat up, locking her lips on hers. The kiss started slow and gentle, yet she was in a daze right the second Lisa threaded a hand through her blonde hair. The slow turned to a quick play of tongues that Roseanne could not pinpoint who shifted the gear to unleash her hunger.
Abruptly cutting the kiss on purpose, Lisa smirked at seeing the model's face move toward hers expecting the play to continue, her chest sinking. "But I'm still sleepy. Five more minutes of cuddling, please?"
Roseanne rolled her eyes at the tease. The intensity of the kiss that Lisa initiated hung on her lips her whole body was set ablaze. She brought her forehead against Lisa's and stared at those plump lips she marked as hers. In whispers, she said, "How about five more minutes of this instead?"
Lisa did not pull back when Roseanne started another round of kissing. Roseanne's natural scent smelled like roses and milk, she could not fathom the tastefulness of it all if it was coming from the model's hair or skin, but it was all over her now. And she wanted more of it.
Waltzing in the music of their desire, Roseanne placed her arms over Lisa's shoulders, embracing the artist as close as she could, with only the lightweight fabrics in between their skins. In sync were Lisa's thin arms that found the strength to pull Roseanne to sit on top of her, with only the blanket separating their utmost wishes.
As she stroked Roseanne's back, Lisa responded as passionately to the model's yearning kisses. The feeling was transporting her across miles of history that Roseanne's body went through, to decades of tomorrows the blonde could possibly live through, and then back to the present where she was holding Chaeyoung in her arms along with everything flawed and breakable about her—all parts she was allowed to get through.
YOU ARE READING
a misty gashed aperture
Fanfiction"The Panorama." Artist Lisa Manoban and global supermodel Roseanne Park's first meeting was far from kismet. It was not fireworks going off but finding the sky clear of any smoke. With a stroke of fate, the artist started dreaming again with a futil...
