King

Chapter 2, Part 3 - Only friendship?

The morning came quickly and Brianna was the first out of our three girls to open her eyes. She could smell coffee, scrambled eggs, buttered toast and jam. Plum jam maybe? As she sat up on the couch and looked over to the kitchen, her eyes caught Albert's silhouette: he had a university of london tee-shirt on and checked boxers, his hair was still messy, he hummed softly which Bria only got to hear properly once she made her way to the kitchen. She had her sweater on and shorts which she got from Reg for the night. Her socks made her steps soft and inaudible. When she got to the kitchen counter, she pushed herself up and sat down on it. This was when Bertie noticed her.

Her hair was tangled, she had no makeup on, and her leg was bruised where she hit it in the table the other day, but she was beautiful as ever. She rubbed her eyes and stretched her limbs out, accompanied by a quiet yawn. The young man turned to her.
-Good morning, brain. -yes, he did call her brain from time to time. When Regina heard this nickname for the first time, she got extra angry that she wasn't the one to come up with it. She ended up using it anyways.
His morning voice was raspy and his glasses sat way too low on the bridge of his nose.
-Good morning, Einstein. -she answered, fixing his second pair of eyes.
-Did you sleep well?
-Very well, how about you? -Bria yawned again.
-I would've slept better knowing you're not on the uncomfortable couch.
-Oh come on.
-You could've stayed in my room. It happened before, and it was great. -it was indeed. They used his vintage popcorn-maker to make some snacks and they watched Star Wars. And then they had a laser sword fight. Not a real one, of course.
-Yes it was, but I didn't want to bother you.
-You never bother me.
This was a typical sentence which Bria had only one answer to: a hug that proves that she can bother him.
-Come here.
Brianna pulled her friend into that hug and wrapped her legs around his torso. They did this often, it was nothing new, and yet they both melted away on the inside. Brianna knew how close she could let him to keep themselves only friends but to get a taste of what it's like to be loved that way. She knew how close to his lips she had to plant a kiss to make him wonder if she wanted more than just friendship. But with her words she always made it clear that she wanted none of that.
To be honest, this wasn't quite fair of her. Bertie kept rejecting girls because of Bria and yet she wouldn't have let him closer. Closer... she probably couldn't even have let him any closer since they had shared more secrets with each other than most couples do. Brianna was a smart girl, she knew that if she had started a relationship with him, they could've lost their friendship. And that was worth more to her than a few kisses on the lips. Or at least that's what she thought. Or what she made herself believe.
She ran her long, slim fingers through his hair and closed her eyes, resting her chin on his shoulder. He then held her legs, and as he was gonna get better hold of her, he slid his right hand just a bit further on her thigh than it should've gone... Bria gasped and let out a quiet moan at the unusual touch. It made her get hold of his soft locks and squeeze her legs tighter around him. This was a little reminder for her that she wasn't the only one who could play games. Her heart was beating faster and faster as she felt against her shorts what that quiet moan and her touch instantly did to Bertie.
He clearly enjoyed being in charge, this was his first time teasing her so explicitly. He moved his hips the slightest bit to give Brianna a bit clearer of an illusion of what she's done to his manly parts. And she could feel it really well. She bit down on her lip, the need to give up getting stronger and stronger. Her breathing was too heavy to be normal, her jaw clenched more than it should've. Every inch of her body wanted to feel him closer, tighter, wilder, deeper... she turned her head to face him, and he brushed his lips against hers, whispering sweetly, like bees before flying onto the desired flower.
-When will you finally surrender yourself to me, Brianna? -he gently caressed the back of her thighs (or maybe that was even her butt already?), her jaw finally relaxed, her lips parted, all the heavy breaths escaping her mouth and she murmured her answer in her divine, glazy voice between two exhalations:
-Oh please.
Sadly, Bertie expected this answer to come and this was the moment he gave up. He didn't want to force her and he figured it'd be a better idea to finally let her go. It was getting awkward for him by then that he kept trying just for Bria to say "come on" or "oh please" over and over again. These answers wouldn't have been bad though, but the way she said them changed everything.
All the evenings he spent by picturing their future life was for nothing. He actually believed he could have her once, they could have children and a beautiful house, and they could watch the stars together through their high definition telescopes. But his patience lasted this long.
He nodded, kissed her forehead and let go of her.
-Would you like some scrambled eggs? They're free-range.

Regina opened her eyes around 8:30. Bria was already gone, Bertie was at the university and Frida was still sleeping next to her, peacefully. She stretched herself out and mildly dug her short nails into her palms. The blanket hardly covered her, she had kicked it off in her sleep and even her shorts were twisted on her hips. What the fuck.
Frida hugged the blanket with both her arms, plus her right leg – it looked like she loved someone in her dreams. Hopefully, she did. Her leg was strong but slimmer than Reg's, bronze-coloured, very smooth and completely uncovered. Her toenails were painted black, just like on her hands. She looked like the main character of a 2000's rom-com movie: perfect. Nothing like when Regina last saw her with tears in her eyes, all broken. The only thing on her that signed the other day's happenings was her slightly opened mouth, the wound on her bottom lip now a lot less red. Oh, and her slightly swollen eyelids.

Reg sat up and caressed the beauty's hair slowly, not wanting to wake her (really not?), just giving in to the desire to touch her, to touch perfection. Why, why would she do something so stupid? Why is it that last night, when Frida kissed her, she managed not to kiss back but right then and there, in the morning, all she wanted to do was to wake the girl up and make her all hers? Was this the same desire as the one that makes us want to press a fingertip into the freshly smoothed cake icing? It must've been that.
But before she could do so, Frida yawned, forgetting about her wounded lip and the split started bleeding again.
-Ah fuck -she quickly sat up and pressed the back of her hand on the wound.
Reg got a tissue from the chaotic table and gently applied it to the right place.
-Good morning drummer girl. Thanks for helping. Again. -Frida smiled as much as she could by not overtensing her lips. She was happy that she didn't have to find an empty bed by herself, like she usually does.
-Drummer girl, huh? -Reg raised a brow without actually looking at Frida. She let her messy bun down and combed her hair with her fingers haphazardly. Did she just really get called by her instrument?
-Will you show me what you're capable of? -the black haired girl asked. Regina stopped the combing and looked over to find a curiously smirking Frida. Could it really be..?
The blondie licked her lips, leaning forward on her arms. She looked Frida in the eyes and smirked back, her irises blue as ever and her body needy as always in the mornings. Her eyes closed slowly and her cheek rubbed against Frida's collarbone as she kissed her neck softly at first, but more and more hungrily with each kiss.
Frida laid her hand on Regina's chest and pushed her away slowly but decidedly.
-On the drums, Reg. -she winked.
Regina never got pushed away before and it got her by surprise. She was always the one that everyone wanted more of. More kisses, more touching, just more. She had at least a dozen of unanswered texts on her phone, asking her for "just one more night", which was never true. They wanted more of her.
She suddenly remembered what she had said to Frida at dawn, and she finally understood. Not completely accepting the girl's decision, but at least understood. Patience she needed, to fight the lack of pleasure that morning, but she was a tough girl, she managed somehow.
So she got up, sat behind the drums and played what her heart desired. And even more.