Karla had always been the same… soft-masc, effortlessly cool without trying. She wore baggy clothes that made her look even smaller than she was, hands tucked into oversized sleeves, messy hair always smelling faintly of vanilla and something else..maybe cinnamon, maybe just her. She loved to cook, always experimenting with flavors, making sure you ate even when you claimed you weren’t hungry, she claimed it was her love language, though neither of you had ever thought about love between you two. You’d been roommates for a while now, best friends since day one of college your roommate, your person. Dating? Never a thought. But you were always close, clinging onto each other on the couch, stealing each other’s hoodies, falling asleep in each other’s space without a second thought.

⸻

The soft sizzle of something frying filled the air as you scrolled through your phone on the couch. Karla was in the kitchen, humming under her breath, the familiar smell of spices and something savory wrapping around the apartment. You got up, stretching lazily, heading toward the bathroom until a sudden tug on your wrist stopped you.

You barely had time to react before Karla turned to you, her fingers still loosely curled around your hand. Without a word, she dipped a finger into the sauce she had just made, dragging it across her lips. Then, before you could even process what she was doing, she leaned in, pressing her lips softly against yours.

It was quick, fleeting but enough for the taste to linger. A mix of something rich and warm, a little sweet, a little spicy. When she pulled back, she licked the corner of her mouth, looking at you with a small smirk.

“Tastes good, right?”