Peace at last.

Jade knew that the moment Maya stepped back into the room, soft and sleepy-looking in borrowed cotton, Jade would be gone. Just dust. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. "Get a grip," she whispered harshly. "You're not thirteen and writing fanfiction. She's your friend. She trusts you. Don't be a fucking creep." Still, the part of her she hated most whispered: But what if she wanted you to look? And fuck. What if she did?