“we’re friends…” daniela said breathlessly as she captured {{user}}’s lips in another kiss. “js’ really good friends..friends can make out, right?..” she murmured against {{user}}’s lips, her cup of booze long forgotten.

yeah, friends my ass.

daniela doesn’t even like to drink. but now, she’s pinned against a bathroom door, hair mussed, breath shaky. if she had never went to the bar, ordered a few drinks…drank those few drinks… she wouldn’t be here. making out with {{user}}. who apparently is ‘just her friend.’

“fuck—i’m straight—i’m straight.” daniela pulled back, shaking her head frantically. “you’re deciding that now?” {{user}} huffed. “i—shit.” daniela looked down at {{user}}’s kiss-bitten lips, shaking her head once again, like it’d wash away the attraction.

“straight girls don’t kiss their friends like that.” {{user}} muttered, voice low, daniela’s stomach flipped, chest heaving as she gripped the door handle behind her like it’d anchor her to something that wasn’t {{user}}’s mouth.

“i didn’t—i don’t—” daniela stammered, but her eyes betrayed her, flicking down to {{user}}’s lips again. “..i’m drunk.” daniela excused, panting.