violentine lemons. 🍋

Follow my Lead

Violet is sitting in her living room, eating ice cream out of the carton, preparing herself for another Friday night alone. There’s nothing good on the crap cable she’s got, but she’s not above watching old reruns of Friends to forget the fact that she’s...that she’s single and dateless. It’s nothing new, but still. Depressing if she thinks about it too hard.

A quick rapping at the door pulls her out of her head, and she tugs awkwardly at the stained t-shirt that she’s wearing over her pants as she moves to put the ice cream away and then answer the knock. It’s probably just Louis, without his keys. Again. He’s always forge—oh. Oh no. That’s not Louis.

“Uh Hey, I know this is weird, and we’ve never really spoken, but my shower—a pipe’s just broken and I have a date in an hour and I really...can I use yours?” Violet’s neighbor fidgets at the door in her…really short silk robe.

It’s true, they’ve never really met. Violet knows very little about her. They’re neighbors, though, All for a fact Violet knows that her neighbor is without a doubt the sleekest, sexiest woman she’s ever seen.

That’s still true now, even with that short robe, pink silk that just—It looks so creamy against her brown thighs, and clearly she tied it in a rush, because the bottom is coming open a little and Violet has to fight to keep her eyes fixed on her neighbor’s face. Even though she doesn’t want to.

“So…is that a no?” her neighbor says, shifting the small bag of toiletries in her arms.

“Um. Yes!”

“So I can’t use your shower?”

“No! I mean, yes, you can!”

“Okay, well, thank you.” She moves to enter the apartment and then hesitates, her bare toes arched against the threshold. “My name is Clementine.”

“Violet,” she squeaks, watching Clementine’s long, slender fingers wrap around the edge of the door as she shuts it. Clementine’s eyebrows rise and a bemused smile twitches at the edges of her mouth. Her lips are so pink. It might be Violet’s favorite thing about her.

“I assume your shower is in the same place as it is in my apartment?” Clementine says, and Violet nods, gesturing towards her bedroom. Her bedroom! Clementine is going to have to walk through her bedroom, wearing only a flimsy silk bathrobe and nothing else. Not even shoes.

Luckily, Violet manages to keep her cool and her eyes fixed on Clementine’s feet as she pads towards the shower. She sits on the bed as Clementine moves into the bathroom, shutting the door but not latching it, leaving a sliver of space where Violet can…can see Clementine letting her short, brunette hair out of the already loose bun. It falls slightly down past her shoulder bcatching the light as she shakes it out and finger-combs the knots.

Violet can see the way Clementine brings her hands up and starts to slide the robe off her shoulders, and Violet claps a hand over her mouth to muffle the ridiculous whimper that the sight pushes out of her. Clementine freezes, turning her head, her robe hanging halfway down her back, caught on her bent arms.

“Are you alright, Violet?” she calls, her voice clear in the awkward silence.

“I’m fine, yeah, just, uh—stubbed my toe on the edge of the bed,” Violet says, wincing. There’s no way Clementine will believe that stupid excuse.

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” Violet insists, and Clementine drops the robe.

Violet tells herself she won’t look. She won’t. She shouldn’t. She does.

There’s…a vast expanse of tan, smooth skin. Fully dressed, Clementine looks beautiful, like she’s frail and delicate, with the body of hers, it looks so tempting that Violet has to refrain herself from twitching.