The Sweetest Fruit ( Tomboy 🏳️‍🌈Love Story )

28. vulnerable

Sonia

I duck under the sheets, my head between MJ's thigh. Her eyes are still closed. The sun filtering through the window reminding me I have only a few minutes to do this.

I suck on her warm skin, biting at it every chance I get. Being here feels right, like doing this to someone else is a sin I cannot commit. I trail my fingers up and down her mound, her body moving at my touch. Without thinking I replace my fingers with my tongue. She is warm and a few seconds later her fingers dig into my hair. The sharp pain in my scalp is grounding, motivating me more.

“What are you doing?” She asks, her voice groggy. I don't stop, I repeat everything she has done to me, my tongue playing at her entrance.

“Fuck.”

“You had to do this right now?” She asks, pushing herself into me.

My nails dig into her skin, watching the orgasm rip through her.

The girl here with me—vulnerable, exposed, and happy—was a stark contrast to the one I was accustomed to. Her dark curls fanned out on the white pillow like an intricate halo, and her skin, kissed by the soft morning light filtering through the blinds, glowed with warmth. I climbed on top of her, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on her bare shoulder as a soft smile graced her full lips. Her dark eyes, usually guarded, gazed back at me with an openness that felt rare and sacred.

I held her gaze, the words I love you burning at the tip of my tongue. But before I could let them escape, the shrill cry of the alarm shattered the spell.

“We have to be in school within an hour,” she mumbled, glancing at the phone on the nightstand. Her voice was still heavy with sleep as she sat up, brushing her curls out of her face. I groaned, dropping my head onto her chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of her heart.

As we descended the wide, spiraling staircase, the smell of brewed coffee and polished oak filled the air. The mansion’s interior was cold and unwelcoming, with marble floors that gleamed under the crystal chandelier’s light.

“Mary Jane,” a deep voice called, startling me. I turned toward the sound and spotted a tall, light-skinned man standing in front of what looked like a study. His head was clean-shaven, and his tailored black suit fit him perfectly, giving him an air of calculated power. A steaming mug was perched in his hand, the scent of coffee strong and bitter.

The resemblance to MJ was undeniable—the same almond-shaped brown eyes, the same sharp nose, even the way his jaw clenched was eerily similar. His expression was hard, and the sight of him sent a visible shiver through MJ. She froze, gripping my hand so tightly I thought she might crush it.

“Who’s your friend?” His voice was heavy, each word deliberate and devoid of warmth. His stare pinned me in place like a target under a hunter’s scope.

“None of your business,” MJ retorted, her voice sharp, her words laced with venom. The hatred in her eyes burned, so much so that I could almost feel the heat radiating off her.

“It’s my business,” he shot back, his jaw tightening as his grip on the mug mirrored his rising anger. “She’s in my goddamned house acting like a complete whore.”

“Don’t talk to her like that!” MJ snapped, her voice trembling despite her attempt to sound firm.

“I’ll talk to her however I want,” he barked, his tone leaving no room for argument.

MJ’s whole body was taut with anger. Her veins were visible along her neck, pulsing with fury. I squeezed her hand tighter, trying to anchor her, to calm the storm I knew was brewing inside her.

The man’s lips curled into a sneer before he clicked his tongue in irritation and retreated into the study, the heavy door slamming shut behind him. MJ’s shoulders didn’t relax, her good mood evaporated entirely.

Without a word, she led me outside to her  car. The cold wind nipped at my skin, and the dark clouds above mirrored her mood. She started the engine and sped off, the tires screeching as we left the house behind.

“MJ…” I started hesitantly.

“Sonia, not now, please,” she said through gritted teeth, her hands gripping the wheel tightly. The anger she radiated filled the small space of the car, suffocating any response I might have had. I wanted to push her to talk, to tell me the truth, but I held back, knowing she wasn’t ready.

When we arrived at school, MJ parked in her usual spot, but she didn’t move to get out.

“Are you not going to class?” I asked, trying to meet her eyes.

“No,” she said bluntly, her voice distant. She was shutting me out again. I could feel it in the way she wouldn’t even look at me.

“You’ll call me if you need anything?” I asked softly.

“Okay,” she muttered, her voice hollow.

I unbuckled my seatbelt, hesitating. Should I hug her? Kiss her? Get out of the car and pretend everything was fine? I leaned in and gave her a short hug, but her arms stayed limp at her sides. My heart clenched painfully as I pulled back, biting my lip to keep the rising wave of emotions at bay.

“Where are you going?” I asked, but she simply started the car, avoiding my gaze.

I stepped out and watched her drive away, the roar of the engine echoing in my ears long after she disappeared down the road.

The campus felt strangely empty without her. The sprawling lawns, dotted with students making their way to class, felt dull and lifeless. I headed toward the dorms, trying to distract myself from the ache in my chest.

Inside, the halls were silent, the faint hum of the fluorescent lights the only sound. My room was just as I had left it, but I realized with a groan that I’d forgotten my bag and phone in MJ's car. Frustrated, I grabbed my books and calculator, stuffing them into a tote bag.

“Sonia!” Aliza’s voice rang out as I stepped into the hallway. I turned to see her jogging toward me, her flawless hair bouncing over her shoulders. She looked perfect as always, her makeup impeccable, her smile radiant.

“Heyyy,” I greeted her, forcing a smile as she pulled me into a hug.

“Ugh, I’m so mad at you!” she said, pulling back with a playful pout.

“Why?”

“Because you didn’t even talk to me yesterday!”

“I was with you yesterday,” I said, confused.

“At the party, bitch!” she exclaimed, crossing her arms. “You were glued to MJ the whole time, having the time of your life.”

“Sorry…” I said sheepishly, realizing she was right.

“No, you’re not,” she said with a dramatic eye roll. “But whatever, let’s go to class.”

Her lighthearted banter chipped away at my sour mood as we made our way to class, her laughter warming the cold corners of my heart. But in the back of my mind, MJ lingered, her pain and anger casting a shadow over everything else.