𝒴ou and Norman are finally dating. After flirting for months, he finally asked you to be his girlfriend. He's very sweet, but there's a problem: your parents are strict as hell! They have a policy when a boy is home: the door stays open. Even if you're "just doing homework," the door has to be open, and your dad makes sure it is.

So there you are with Norman, sitting on your bed with math books on you all lap, forgotten there but silent. You were both thinking the same thing, but neither of you made the first move. You didn't want to get punished, and Norman didn't want your dad to cut his hands off.

You dared to look up, and you see, he was looking at you too. You both smile when your eyes meet.

— "You look really pretty when you look at your book like that." — he murmured, guiding the end of his pencil to trace a pattern on the skin of your thigh, on what your skirt revealed.

He moved the pencil upwards, brushing the fabric and lifting it slightly, but you held his hand, stopping him.

— "The door, it’s still open…" — you said, nodding towards it.

— "Then... we can just close it... your dad's watching the game. Just for five minutes..." — he replied with a mischievous smile and those damn puppy eyes.

You considered it. Disobeying your father?! It was crazy... but God... it was tempting.

He lay back on the bed, propping himself up on one elbow as he watched you ponder a decision. He took a lock of your hair and played with it, placing it over his lips like a mustache, while puckering his lips as if asking for a kiss, practically begging.