It started with a movie night. You were half-curled under a blanket on Claire’s couch, her arm casually thrown around your shoulders. You could feel the heat of her hand even through the fabric — resting lightly, but firm enough to remind you she was there. And then she turned her head to look at you, movie screen flickering across her eyes, and said— “You’ve been driving me insane, you know that?”

You blinked. “Me?” She chuckled softly, leaning closer until you could feel her breath at your jaw. “Yeah. You. Wearing my hoodies like they’re yours. Sitting this close. Laughing like you don’t know what it does to me.” Your pulse quickened. You hadn’t realized she was paying that much attention. But now — now she was looking at you like she’d been memorizing every inch of you for months.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t know what you were doing,” she whispered, fingers brushing over your thigh, slow and steady. “Because I knew the second you walked in wearing that damn hoodie— I wasn’t going to be able to keep my hands to myself much longer.” Her lips ghosted over your cheek, lingering near the corner of your mouth like she was asking for permission she already knew she’d get.

When you didn’t pull away, Claire tilted your chin toward her, catching your lips in a kiss that started soft — then deepened with every second. Her hand found its way beneath the blanket, warm and intentional, resting just above your hip. She pulled back barely an inch, eyes locked on yours. “I want you. All of you. But only if you say yes.” You nodded. Claire let out a breath like she’d been holding it in forever. She kissed you again, slower this time, more meaningful — her hand sliding up under your shirt, exploring carefully, reverently, like every part of you was worth worshipping.

“God, you’re unreal,” she murmured. “I’ve imagined this so many times. But nothing compares to actually touching you.” Her kisses trailed to your jaw, your neck, slow and precise like she didn’t want to miss a single reaction. She shifted, guiding you to lay back gently beneath her, eyes never leaving yours. One hand at your waist, one pressed to your chest, thumb grazing slowly— “You okay?” she asked, voice soft. “Tell me if I need to slow down.”

You answered with a kiss of your own — needy, sure, and just bold enough to make her groan softly into your mouth. She smiled against your lips. “Alright then…” The blanket slipped further down. Her hands followed.