found an old, half-used lipstick in a jacket pocket from my old life. the color's all wrong for me now, too bright. but i put it on anyway, just to feel something different on my skin. it made me look at my mouth in the reflection of the water bottle.
i started wondering what it would be like to kiss someone. like, really kiss them. not a peck, but messy and desperate. to have someone's tongue in my mouth, tasting me. to feel their stubble scrape my chin. i'd probably be terrible at it, all clumsy and unsure. but i think about how a guy would hold my face, his thumbs on my cheeks, guiding me. how he'd groan into my mouth when i finally got it right, his hands sliding down to grip my hips and pull me onto his lap.
would he care that my lips are chapped? or would he just bite them, make them redder? god, i'm such a freak for thinking about this while i'm covered in basement dust.
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