Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
🥊 eleven. ten months, six days, twenty seconds
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Morana hated a lot of things, but one of the things she didn't hate was kissing.
Kissing was something that she thought was completely intimate, something that people shouldn't look at even though she knew it was super popularized by media and television. She believed kissing was better than sex and weed because she liked the feeling of lips against hers. She hated the feeling of wet tongue squirming in her mouth, but she loved the chasteness of kissing, whether it'd be morning kisses or regular kisses that you would do without much thinking. Kisses on the cheek, nose, lips, and eyebrows were her favorites though, but Morana didn't understand why she preferred kissing over actual sex. The first one was less work, less germs passed over, but the second act was tiring and sweaty. It was gross and weird even though she was supposed to like sex like every other normal person. Sometimes she would prefer just laying down with Viktor rather than to be all over him. Sometimes, it was better that way.
She only liked the sounds of heavy breathing and laughter right after kissing. That was all she needed because despite the fact she was used to shouts and cheers due to her being a boxer, she relished in the silence. She enjoyed the simple pleasures in life like anyone else, so you could understand why she was so angry when Reginald had suddenly showed up with his bodyguards, offering to help Viktor with finding his brother.
He couldn't randomly change his mind like that, not after what he said to Viktor the other night. She tried her hardest not to complain about it either because Viktor was still her boyfriend and she tried not to complain so much about everything. She really tried, even if she was strapped to the back seat of the Cadillac like she were a child, and she stared at the back window of the car. Reginald's bodyguards were following after them which she found a little creepy, but whatever. She didn't care about him.
Her eyes were beady while she stared out the backseat window as she listened to the radio repeatedly switch from some orchestra music to a folk song, constantly switching between Reginald and Viktor. The brunette rolled her eyes in annoyance as they fussed over the radio like children and her arm reached out, her fingers pressing against the radio buttons to put on a song. It was a song by Crooked Still, she couldn't remember the name of said song, and she slapped away Reginald's hand when he tried to change the song again.
