It is short. I knoooooow. But the idea i had came and went just as quickly as the 45 second hot flash i survived. .. erm, about a week ago. Cheers to a broken fan in my bedroom. You gave me this:
Kouya had yet to fall asleep.
The night was wearing on, un-relentlessly.
The room was cold, Kouya was burning alive underneath the covers,
the alarm clock in the corner was staring at her—its red gaze burning numbers in her forehead,
and the fan was making that annoying whizzing sound that Yamato insisted only Kouya could hear. . .
Mmmm
Yamato. . .
Speaking of beautiful Yamato, the lovely blonde was taking up 85 percent of the covers with her tiny, curled up form.
Her back was right in Kouya's stomach, her heels planted on Kouya's own curled legs. This, of course, was only making the dark haired girl sweat even more.
I'm too young for hot flashes. . .
Suddenly and ever so quietly, Yamato murmured in her sleep. It was high pitched, unlike the moans that Kouya was so accustomed to hearing in the darkness.
This sound. . .was almost feline?
And it was gone just as quickly as it had happened. Kouya felt her quickly beating heart melt from more than just the heat of the down covers. The smallest things Yamato did, even in her unconscious, drove Kouya crazy over her.
She wrapped her long, pale arms possessively around Yamato's trim waist—letting her fingers feel under the thin tank top the blonde was wearing, and to the soft flesh of her stomach.
Kouya felt her relax, and began relaxing herself. She ran her fingers along the soft cotton of Yamato's panties. She kissed her neck, kissed her ear, kissed her sun burnt shoulder and watched how the skin turned white under the soft pressure of her lips before returning to the colour of ripe pomegranate.
She nestled up closer to the sun burnt blonde, pulled them as tight as books on a shelf. She relaxed when she felt Yamato turn in her arms and burry her head of crazy locks in the crook of Kouya's neck—unconsciously returning the kiss with one of her own right at that warm spot on the base of her throat.
The sweats resided,
yet she continued to melt. . .
with those lips moving in her sleep.
Unfortunatly, someone wasn't kissing me when my hot flash ended. . .but i tend to live through my ink :)