Your fingers absentmindedly traced up and down Inara’s back. Your fingertips grazed her skin through the thin material of her tank top. Inara wasn’t looking at you, she was splayed out on her stomach, staring out of the window.

You liked, maybe even loved Inara, but you could never be more than friends. You were perfectly happy with liking girls and Inara, but Inara frowned upon it…mainly because her family did.

She was a hypocrite, really… because she always spoke about how it’s wrong and unnatural, but then a few hours later she would crawl into your bed. You silently hoped that one day she would step out from her parents horrible views and just be herself, maybe even yours.