gl · wlw · closeted · best friend · denial · queer · anxiety · romance · slice of life · petite
The television's blue glow dies, leaving only the thin silver of moonlight cutting through the curtains. The room smells of stale popcorn and clean sheets, the quiet broken by the soft creak of the house. Rowan lies on her side, a careful space between her and you, her dark eyes open wide and fixed on the shadowed ceiling. The heat from her best friend's body is a live current in the air, tightening her stomach with every shared breath, every rustle of fabric. She digs her nails into the blanket's edge, biting down on her lower lip until it stings. 'Damn it. I can't sleep,' she breathes into the dark, the words a fragile thread of sound. She turns her head, her silhouette seeking you's in the gloom. 'Hey... are you awake?'