[SE] petrichor

KIADA

burn it into my collar, hollowed onto your wrist

“Anytime.” She chirps – meaning it down to the bone. If it meant undressing him more often, she’d be all over it. But as it stands, soon enough she’s stuck in her own mess of clinging, soaking clothes, and visibly relaxes the second that his warm hands help her remove it. “Well, hopefully they don’t show up until tomorrow. I have plans for you.” She says, half muffled before his help finally allows her to pop her head out of the wet, soaking mess, able to finish her playful tone without being blocked.

Of course, she imagines it ruins the sexiness of it. But it’s fine. “I’ll be happy to not see rain for a long, long time.” She admits with a soft little grumble, more than happy to entwine her hand with his to let him lead her up to the shower, covering their connected hands with her free one, all in an effort to remain close and touchy.

It only breaks the second they reach the shower and she lets him go so that he can start the shower and she can collect the towels they’ll need after, folding them up to set them on the countertop of the bathroom, she starts to pluck at the rest of her sticking clothes with a soft frown. “Ugh, it wouldn't be so bad if it didn't cling so much.” She whines.

heaven knows i don't follow, but i believe in this