LUNCH (wlw)

"ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴍʏ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ʟʟ ᴄʀʏ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ."

POV: Camilla's

Today was my birthday, and I invited Selena to the party. Didn't want a party but mom insisted, the need of just wanting to stay away from my father no longer exists and now, I had to face his judgement. "Talk to me." Selena tone, like the waves sounds that make your eye lids grow heavy with its alluring tone at the connection of the sea line. Her manicured fingers, disorienting from where she decorated her ears with the capturing of her eyes in a manner of elegance.

"I'm okay." My voice, not completely sturdy enough for the slightest un-noticeable pain that this interaction was going to cause me in the end the hours of MY day. He always made sure to embarrass me in some way, everybody on their day deserves to show out a little more than usually in a day to day life. But, he always made sure to humble me, "Then, why don't i believe you? Come on, talk to me." She pushes me more, my emotions hang on my heart like an anchor.

"Because you like to look too deeply into things, but I'm fine." The atmosphere hushed, "Come on, Camila. Tell me, I'm here to listen." She pleads for extra explanation, for my change of character. "Just, don't exactly want a party." I feel like, I'm back in church with my grandma that would wish the gay away. Going to confession every other week day and if I was lucky, we would miss the whole week if she got busy. "Then, we don't have to go." She commented.

"Can't just not show up, Selena." I explained, "Don't call me that." She didn't like when I called her, her name even though it was her name. The thuds of her heels, clinging onto the floor of the wooden frames of her bedroom floor. Watching her hips, moving with the coordinations of the beat I've made in my head. My groan gaining her attention, "Kiss." My sweet soft tone of tongue, making her into a mush of a marshmallow. Just like that, she was the sweetest person you could ever think of.

Leaning my head back against the head of the chair, my lips going into a pucker. Making her struggle to get out of my grasp, as her goal was only for giving me a pecking tease of the taste of her lips, "Mm." Humming, the feeling she brings within me. Her lips were soft, silken, almost unsympathetic against my own. Grabbing a hold of her arm, guiding her hesitantly around the chair. Lifting myself up before, the force of hunger strikes me in the best possible way.

My body heating up, that my past "lovers" could only dream of getting me close to. She's the only one that could make me chase for the things I want, she falls backwards on the chair our lips still working digitally with hints of aggressive passion behind it all.

My knees sliding on either sides of her thighs, rubbing against the soft comforter of the staticky makeup chair. I could feel the soft tickle of her breath beneath my nose, her slow paced fingers tips, tracing over my curves with patience of her shaken hands, slipping their way down my radiating frame as we breathed each other in. Her fingers, carding through the heated curls of my wooden colored soft locks. My body pressed against her chest desperately against the chair, breathing deeply as our lips pressed together. Tasting our shared breath, hearing the thud of our combined heartbeat as we fumbled for dominance over the other.

The unsettled rhythm in my chest, igniting as Selena leaned in close, deepening the movement of our lips brushing together. The smell of her perfume dangerously cold, the scent of her conditioner, being a pleasant, richness with a touch of an earthy, floral scent that intensify with curiosity

Sending waves of the pressure of wanting.

wait no.

Of needing.

Like the desperately needed for the sea to touch the sand, not knowing if it might be the last. Swift, swirls of shyness dancing within my stomach with the warmness she releases only for me, consuming me as I followed her lead into the kiss. Selena lips unexpectedly soft against my own, as she let her body sink into the chair. Letting all her secrets that she swore to keep locked, released into my favor of her spilling upon my wonder of what she wishes away at night.