𝒘𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔. | chaennie

thirsty

It was either Jennie who was laughing way too hard for her own good or Rosé– equally laughing if not, twice as hard as the other which made them stumble on the cold wooden floor, falling on top of each other.

Maybe it was the alcohol in their systems that is making them laugh as maniacs, or maybe they're just happy.

They are happy.

Jennie could smell the bittersweet taste of liquor on the other's breath as she opened her eyes to see such a sight.

Her wife was on top of her. One strap of her tight dress lightly hanged loose on her fair shoulder. Her lips were a shade between red and pink that matches her dress which was slightly smudged. But her beautiful, beautiful blonde strands of hair that could almost match for a bird's ness was everywhere. Nevertheless, she was indeed beautiful. At least to Jennie's eyes, she always was.

She stayed on top of her, making no movement to move off of her. Perhaps it was the way her laughter turned into such silence that was making her stopping the ability for her to move or it was the way they were staring each other like they wanted each other, badly.

It didn't help with the way Rosé's eyes shifted from her own eyes, to slowly dragging them to the plump lips of the other. She too can smell the same liquor they had drank together, just a few hours ago.

Her breath suddenly erased from the scene, it can't be helped with the way she knew what was bound to happen. But it wasn't her fault that each time Rosé looked at her lips, her heart began to pump faster.

"Jennie." There she goes.

There she was, a goner. She knew that the moment her wife was going to say her name, her name, in that husky, sweet voice of hers that she loved hearing, was going to make her melt. She always melts from that voice of hers. What made it worse was she didn't stop her staring at her lips, her heart was beating rapidly by now.

Rosé reaches the hand that Jennie was trying to balance herself as she sat on the floor, which made her closer, if not from before. Her hand on top of hers. What made Jennie even more nervous was the way her eyes shifted to the other's lips as well, those plump lips caught between her teeth. She sighed heavily.

She was about to lean in for a kiss, not until her shoulders were being gently pushed back, preventing her from doing what she had wanted. Her lips turned into a pout as Jennie sat up and shaking her head with a knowing smile.

"Not tonight Rosie. We're drunk." She stood up and brushed the dirt off of her dress, "We should get ready for bed."

She really was going to get ready for bed as her hand grabbed a water bottle from the counter and drank from it, heavily. It was as if she was thirsty from drinking all that alcohol or maybe it was the acts she was very tempted to do.

But right at the moment she set the half empty water bottle on the counter as was about to turn away to the bedroom, a gentle yet firm grip on her wrist prevented her from moving at all. She didn't even turn her head, afraid that her knees would give up if she did.

"Who said I was drunk?" She heard behind her. God that voice is going to be the death of her.

Her back was pressed against Rosé's chest the moment she let go of her wrist. She isn't sure if she preferred her wrist being trapped against the other's hand or her back being pressed against her chest. Either way, it got her tense all over.

Now both of her arms were being caressed. Cold hands caressing the sides of her arms going up and down, up and down. Just exactly the way her poor heart was thumping against her chest just as fast.