Roxie Noir

  • majahar citeretsidste år
    I’m entranced by her, by her rapture, by the way her face moves as she looks over the art like she’s asking for its secrets. If I were that flower, I’d tell her. How could I do anything else?

    I step closer to her, bend low, like we’re conspiring.

    “There’s a sealed pocket of air inside each flower,” I say. Her hair smells sharp and sweet, citrus and rose.

    ❤️

  • majahar citeretsidste år
    “What next?” he asks, giving my hand a slight squeeze, maybe unconscious. “The Serpent’s Orchard or Moondial?”

    He looks down at me as he talks, his voice sending a shiver down my back.

    ❤️

  • majahar citeretsidste år
    “Which of those am I?” I tease, and she looks up at me, eyebrows still raised, mouth moving into a smile.

    She’s close. So close I think I can feel her body heat, though it’s impossible for me to tell if that’s true or just my imagination.

    “That’s a trick question and I’m not answering it,” she says. “They’ve only ever gotten me into trouble.”

    “Good trouble or bad trouble?” I ask, shifting closer to her.

    ❤️‍🔥

  • majahar citeretsidste år
    “What else?” he asks, his voice low, teasing, as he closes the distance between us. “Come on, Thalia, one more.”

    I feel like the sea monster, as if my skin is rippling with light, as if I’m unfurling at the slightest breeze.

    “You’re a good kisser,” I murmur.

    With that, he pushes me against the shed door and proves me right.

    This time he’s rougher. Less restrained. He works his fingers through my hair, his other hand planted on the wall next to my head, and I open my mouth under his, the kiss already deep.

    I have two fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him toward me, and he lets me do it. He growls and kisses me harder and his fingers leave my hair, brush down my neck. His hand finds my hip, pins it against the wall, the wood digging into my back.

    There’s another noise. A tiny groan, a gasp, and after a moment I realize that it’s me, and Caleb chuckles.

    ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

  • majahar citeretsidste år
    He pauses, and I feel rather than see his gaze slide from the window to me. In my lap I press my palms together, like that can fight off the heat I feel.

    I shouldn’t have come here. I shouldn’t have.

    But now we’re here and we’re talking about the moon, and I can already tell that in a few hours I’ll be alone in my bed, remembering the way he looked at me.

    ❤️

  • majahar citeretsidste år
    I reach over and take her hand in mine. I do it without thinking, the movement automatic, the need to comfort her and protect her almost overwhelming even though I know I can’t.

    “It’s a whole fucking mess,” she says, and she laces her fingers through mine, squeezing.

    I squeeze back, hold her in my grip, the wooden rosary beads pressing into my wrist.

    ❤️

  • majahar citeretsidste år
    “Anyone else out there?” Caleb’s voice calls.

    I clear my throat, getting to my feet.

    “Just me,” I say, and push his door open, heart beating faster than I’d like.

    “Thalia,” he says, and he smiles a smile that makes my heart skip a beat.

    I’ve imagined this moment several more times than strictly necessary, and in those imaginings, Caleb didn’t always smile. Given that the last thing I did was kiss him without permission, I couldn’t blame him for any other reaction.

    ❤️

  • majahar citeretsidste år
    “Thanks for the homework help,” she says. “And sorry I took your whole evening.”

    “It was nothing,” I say, and I mean it. I’d teach her math all night if she wanted. “Come back if you’ve got more questions.”

    “Sure,” she says.

    We say goodbye. I turn away, something warm and fuzzy still glowing in the center of my body.

    👍🩷

  • majahar citeretsidste år
    “I didn’t have to say it that way, I was just tired and stressed and hungry and —”

    I wobble slightly on my toes, and then his hand is on my waist, steadying me. I catch another glare from the same girl as before.

    “And felt like I was taking advantage?” he asks, removing the hand.

    👍❤️‍🔥

  • majahar citeretsidste år
    “Don’t worry, it’s just me,” I say, stepping in as he closes the door behind me.

    “Just?” he says, then leans in and kisses me.

    His fingertips just barely brush my face, and after a long moment, he pulls back.

    “I don’t want to get flour on you,” he says, apologetically.

    “This dress is washable,” I tease, running one hand over his shoulder.

    “Are you asking me to get you dirty, Thalia?” he asks, pressing his lips to mine without waiting for an answer, and this time his body follows suit, his heat melding to my skin from chest to knee

    ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

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