She lazily traced intricate patterns around my navel, head propped on one arm, the freckled skin of her bare shoulders only three shades darker than the delicate white sheet placed carefully over those parts she wished to hide. So odd that the arrogance and certainty she conveyed to the outside world would fall apart in such an intimate setting. But I loved her innocence in my arms. It was that hidden facet of her that wooed me, the shyness she developed that brought out the aggressor in me. We were complete opposites in the bedroom.
I ran a hand through her hair, soft, silky hair that I had envied so much throughout the years and she sighed. She began to kiss her way up the valley between my breasts to the hollow of my throat, stilling just a breath away from my lips.
“Is this–are we–“ Pansy couldn’t seem to find the words, eyes looking anywhere but at me. I ran another hand through her hair and she closed her eyes, resting her head on my shoulder. “I don’t want this to ever end.”
She spoke with such passion, such fervor that I knew it was true, that she meant every word and this feud, this stupid, stupid feud we had carried between us for so long was finally over.
“It doesn’t have to.” She opened her eyes, like sapphires filled with rain, and said with so much certainty, “It won’t.”
“It won’t,” I repeated. And she knew what I meant. The look she gave me then was like a thousand stars had exploded in the heavens showering the world with beautiful fireworks. I felt heat creeping up my skin as she slid down and propped herself on her arm, eyes locked with mine as her fingers swirled lazily around the periphery of my navel.