Cocktail Dreams

Chapter 13- Growing Attached

Fantasia lay in bed, the pillow she clung to offer just a fraction of the comfort she found in Taraji's warmth behind her. Taraji's right leg was nestled between hers, their bodies naturally intertwined like they belonged this way. Fantasia could feel the light pressure of Taraji's hand under her tank top, her fingertips tracing lazy, comforting patterns on her skin. The intimacy of it wasn't overwhelming or calculated—it just was.

The blackout curtains kept the room softly dim, the edges of the morning light only hinting at the world beyond. The rhythm of their breathing filled the space, steady and calming. Fantasia stared at nothing, particularly her lips curving into a faint smile. For once, her mind wasn't racing with doubts or second guesses. She wasn't overanalyzing or waiting for the awkwardness to creep in. With Taraji, everything felt... simple.

She shifted slightly, her body instinctively leaning into the contact. The sensation of Taraji's breath against her back sent a quiet shiver through her and then came the soft press of lips against her shoulder—lightly. Fantasia couldn't help the smile that widened across her face.

"You're finally awake," she murmured, her tone teasing.

Taraji's low laugh warmed the space between them. "Barely," she replied, her voice still heavy with sleep.

Taraji moved lazily, her leg sliding over Fantasia's waist. In one fluid motion, she swung herself over, using her momentum to guide Fantasia flat onto her back. The shift felt seamless and intimate—like their bodies already knew how to move around each other.

"Good morning to you, too," Fantasia murmured, a playful grin spreading across her lips. Her voice was husky with sleep but still carried a teasing edge. Her eyes wandered appreciatively over Taraji, taking in the way her loose tank top clung to her, the dim room, the faintest sliver of light seeped through a crack in the blackout curtains, barely enough to illuminate their faces. "I love this view." 

Taraji smirked, her weight settling comfortably on Fantasia's hips. "Do you now?" she asked, her tone laced with playful challenge. 

"Mmm-hmm," Fantasia replied, biting her lip and letting her hands smooth over Taraji's thighs.

"You're beautiful," Taraji said, the words slipping out almost without her realizing it. Fantasia's breath hitched at the sincerity in her voice. She chuckled, a little bashful despite herself.

"Look who's talking," she countered softly.

Instead of answering, Taraji's hand reached up to smooth a stray piece of hair from Fantasia's face. The touch was so deliberate and tender that it made Fantasia's chest tighten. There was no rush at the moment, no tension—just the quiet acceptance of something unspoken between them.

"Last night," Taraji began, her voice quieter now, "I've never let anyone stay here. Not like this."

Fantasia watched her, giving her the space to say what she needed. Taraji's eyes dropped briefly before she continued.

"This room is my sanctuary. It's where I go to recharge, to reset. I've never let anyone past the front door other than my friends, let alone into my bed."

Fantasia could hear the vulnerability in her voice, the weight of what she was sharing. She reached out, her thumb brushing against the back of Taraji's hand, offering silent reassurance.

"Why me?" she asked gently.

Taraji tilted her head, her smile small but sincere. "Because you don't push. You don't demand. You just show up. And that's exactly what I didn't know I needed."

Fantasia felt her heart swell at the words, her gaze holding Taraji's as the quiet stretched again, this time even more profound. Finally, she broke the silence with a small, curious smile.