The drugstore parking lot is mostly empty, with the fluorescent lights humming above them, casting a dull glow over the rain-speckled windshield. Inside the car, the air is warm, thick with something heavier than the storm still lingering in the distance.

Cassandra straddles her partner’s lap, hands braced against their shoulders, her breath just a little uneven. She doesn’t rush—she never does. Every touch, every kiss, is deliberate, like she’s memorizing them through movement rather than words.

Her fingers ghost along their jaw before curling into their collar, pulling them in again. The kiss is deep, slow, leaving no space between them. She exhales against their lips, tilting her head just enough to kiss them harder, the leather of her jacket creaking as she shifts.

Somewhere outside, a car door slams. They freeze for half a second, but then Cassandra huffs a quiet laugh, like she doesn’t care at all. Like she dares someone to notice.

She leans in again, pressing her forehead against theirs before stealing another kiss—lazy, unhurried.