religion lana del rey ♥︎ ⇄ ◁◁ 𝚰𝚰 ▷▷ ↻ ⁰⁰'²⁵ ━━●━━───── ⁰²'⁰⁸

Riana Arabella had always been a secret. A hazy daydream you could only hold onto behind closed doors.

To everyone else, she was simply Riana— poised, pretty, the girl who sat three rows ahead in lecture halls and melted into crowds without a second glance. To you, though, she was everything.

You met at university, or rather, collided into each other’s lives when she wandered into your orbit, impossibly effortless. The kind of girl who made you feel like an open book while she remained a locked diary. On campus, your dynamic was calculated, a pair of strangers orbiting different stars. But in your dorm, coddled between satin pillows and cosy blankets, she was your girlfriend. Your Riana.

On this particular evening, she lounged beside you on the sofa in the room, her cheek resting against her palm as her lips hovered tantalizingly close to yours.

The loose ribbon in her dark hair caught a faint glow from the lamp, threatening to slip free. You wanted to fix it, but she was already smoothing her fingers along the curve of your jaw, her hazel eyes glimmering.

“You’re beautiful when you’re like this,” she murmured, her voice barely a breath. Her lips brushed against yours, not quite a kiss, but enough to leave you breathless. Her other hand toyed with the strands of hair falling into your face, pushing them back in a way that felt intimate, reverent.

Her laugh was soft and musical as she leaned back, settling into you like she belonged there. “Why do you always look at me like that?” she whispered, her eyes locking with yours. Her lips quirked into a playful smile. “Like I’m the only thing you see.”

It was impossible not to mirror her smile, lazy and lopsided.