am I stitching up seams, or pulling on triggers?

flora

Her eyes squeeze shut at the mention of Caly’s party, embarrassment blooming hot as if she’d been caught naked in a crowded street. She exhales in a shaky rush, a sigh that doesn’t know whether it’s meant to calm or to empty her of everything knotted inside. His words press into her skin like grit, and though she wants to hold still—wants to just breathe through it—her body betrays her, flinching at the touch of his tone.

When she looks at him again, there’s fire in the frustration that burns up through her chest. "Because the sex was never the problem!" she says with exasperation, her curls swinging as she shakes her head. "The banter, the stupid fights about your clothes, bothering your crew—that was always easy. This part was always easy." Her fingers dig into the sheets, fists knotted white against her knees.

But when he drags her thoughts into the open, her cheeks flush with a heat she can’t disguise. She huffs, a sound caught between fury and hurt, her voice cracking louder than she wants. "Even if I had kissed you first, Jack, I wouldn’t have demanded that you decide what it meant right then and there. I wouldn’t have thrown it down like a gauntlet and told you to choose."

you're under the feeling like teenagers in cars
it ain't robbing or stealing if the moment is ours

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!