The words refused to come.
It had been a week of trying, and every time Max opened her mouth to say them, to pull on her big girl pants and tell Caroline how she feels, they got stuck in her throat and some strange noises spewed out. Maybe they're real words, Max doesn't know. Every time she just gots distracted by the vibrant blonde locks, stunning blue eyes, and the blush rising to her cheeks.
She's been blaming it all on being 'sick'. With what? Infatuation. What is she, a fangirl?
She's a fan of something, alright. Namely Caroline's ass. And the legs leading up to it.
Max tossed the ice cream scoop into the nearly empty bowl of red velvet batter and tried to shake the thoughts of Caroline and the body she possessed. But it really was hard, with her room mate bending over and smoothing out the sheets on her vagin— don't think about Caroline and her vagina, Max.
Max could do it. She could do it now, just spit the words out. How hard was this, really? 'Hey Caroline, I think you have a sweet ass and I really would like to sleep in your vagina with you.' Well, maybe that wasn't the best way to put it. Caroline would probably think she was joking. But her fit with the scoop had turned the blonde around to face her, a look of concern written clear across her face.
"Everything okay, Max?"
No. And it's all your fault, you bobble headed blonde.
"Hurmn. Yes. Fine. Fine. Hey, Caroline?" Fantastic, Max really was the epitome of smooth. What was it about this girl and her current ability to leave Max, Max Black, at a loss for words. Likely the 'feelings' she brought out of her.
Caroline simply quirked a brow, the hints of a smile pulling at the corner of her lips. God, those lips. Max would bet they were smooth, soft, so unlike the rough, dryness of the men she'd kissed in her life. How they'd feel against Max's skin, leaving glossy prints behind as they trailed down her neck, to her breasts and downwards. Coughing slightly at the thoughts, Max realized her staring was prolonged and quickly averted her eyes. "I, uh, well… You know, you… and yourself… Well…"
Oh God, don't come closer. Not in those shorts and those shoes, Caroline, please for all of Brooklyn. But she did, the stupid blonde. Caroline leaned against the sink, hands holding on to the edge as she cocked her head and let out a small laugh at Max's stuttering. It was almost musical, how it wasn't condescending, wasn't meant to make Max feel anything negative. It would have almost given the brunette confidence to say it if she wasn't distracted by the cloud of Chanel no.2 (courtesy of Sophie).
"The last time you were acting like this was around Johnny. Before he… Well, you know." And Max did. And she didn't care about it. But something on Caroline's face had Max a bit confused.
"Yeah, well…" She let out a bit of a strange sounding laugh, bringing a hand up to rub the back of her neck. The blush came to her cheeks for what felt like the millionth time this week. Christ, if only Max could sell her capillaries. She'd make a fortune.
It only worsened when Caroline pushed off from her position against the sink and closed the short distance between the two. When did she get so damn tall? Oh, maybe it was the mile high heels she had attached to such a pair of stems. As Caroline raised a hand, sweet smile on the lips Max kinda sorta longed for, Max let out a strangled sound as it found its way to cup her cheek.
The young, blonde woman leaned down, pressing their foreheads together as the smile brightened enough that Max probably could have been blinded. "I know, Max." Surely the sound Max made after was inhuman. "Me too."
Though that was all Max needed to move the hand from her own neck to the back of Caroline's, pulling her down further to press her dark lips against Caroline's light ones.
Confidence returned.
I win, blondie.