The darkness settled over the Andrew residence like a worn-out lullaby, humming softly through the walls. Jill lay immobile on her bed, half-covered, her ankles tangled in the thin blanket. Her eyes were wide open and fixed on the ceiling. The room was quiet, but within her, thoughts moved like shadows seeping through cracks in a wall.
Her attention kept drifting—again and again—to Dave Collins. She had bumped into him at school earlier that day, and ever since, that moment had refused to leave her. The way he looked at her and the brief smile that tugged at his lips replayed in her mind like a dream she didn't want to wake up from. She found herself smiling unintentionally.
But then, feeling embarrassed by her thoughts, she reached for the remote and turned on the TV.
She flipped through the channels quickly, trying to distract herself, but nothing caught her attention—until she stumbled upon her usual favourite: a romance flick already in progress.
Two lovers were yelling at each other on the television, their voices shaking with intensity. Jill could feel the raw, genuine tension. The yelling ceased abruptly. There was a moment of stillness. Then, everything shifted. Anger turned into passion.
They collapsed onto the couch together, touching, kissing, and exploring each other's bodies as if they had been starved for this closeness. The room's light was dim, and shadows flickered across their bodies as they moved together in the rising heat.
Jill's heart beat faster. She wasn't just watching the scene—she was feeling it. The characters' longing reflected something within her that needed to be touched, seen, and desired. She imagined what it would be like to be in that situation, not only watching but also sitting on the couch, being held and getting kissed like that.
Every caress, quiet groan, and searing glance struck her deeply. She felt it in her chest and skin as the scene intensified. She was utterly engrossed, her thoughts of Dave whirling through the illusion on the screen, blurring the lines between what was true and what she secretly desired.
And in that quiet, darkly lit room, Jill allowed herself to feel everything.
She carefully pulled the blanket over herself, wrapping up completely, as if hiding from the world—or sinking further into the one in her mind. Her eyes were buried behind the blanket, but her mind was fully awake, locked onto the quiet, breathy moans leaking from the low-volume TV. The sounds were faint, but they resonated loudly in her imagination.
In her thoughts, the scene had shifted.
It was no longer just a movie—it was her and Dave.
She envisioned them at that precise moment—bodies close, breath warm, tension increasing. Her thoughts drifted back to the deserted corridor at school, where it all started. Only the two of them.
The walls were washed in a gentle, mellow light. There were no footsteps, no lockers, only quiet stretching in both directions. He stood at the other end, motionless, staring at her with his unwavering gaze.
He walked to her slowly.
She remained calm and didn't flinch.
His face drew closer, his breath soft and warm against her cheek. His fingers brushed against her arm, barely touching yet somehow grounded. She tilted her head slightly, and their lips met—not with urgency, but with uncertainty, a silence amid chaos. A soft kiss, like a whisper, wedged between two strangers who already knew too much about each other.
The quick, passionate kiss sparked something neither could ignore; their eyes met in the calm aftermath, tinged with curiosity, hunger, and an unspoken joy of discovery.
His hand moved with intentions, slipping from the curve of her neck down her arm. His fingers paused at her waist, with his thumb softly circling the silky fabric of her shirt. Her breathing quickened as she leaned in, her body pulled instinctively to his warmth.
She turned her head again, inviting him back, and their lips touched once more—deeper this time. His kiss probed her mouth with a need that rose steadily, not rushed, but unmistakably, while his other hand found her lower back, bringing her closer until the warmth of his chest brushed hers.
Then he slipped his hand up, his fingers caressing the side of her ribs before brushing against the inner surface of her breast. She quietly gasped into his mouth, not out of surprise, but as a reaction.
His palm moved across her chest, massaging her through the thin barrier separating them, and she shivered. He caressed the shape of her breast with his thumb, making gentle, circular motions that sent waves of warmth through her.
She emitted a gentle moan, barely audible but enough to arouse something deep within him. Her nipples tightened under his touch, and he noticed—his breath caught as he carefully moved his knuckles across her, observing how her body responded inch by inch.
The air around them shifted, a gentle wind moving across the open space, lifting strands of her hair and tickling the edge of her skirt. He observed how it flapped, revealing more of her thigh with each rise.
She stood still, her breath caught as his hands proceeded lower, smoothing over the curve of her waist, then her hips, and finally down to where the fabric of her skirt danced against her skin.
His fingers clutched the edge, almost as if to see how far he could go before letting it fall through his palms again. He kissed her more deeply and slowly, his mouth parting hers with a hunger tempered by tenderness. Their bodies swayed together as if caught in the wind's beat.
As his kisses returned to her neck, his hands roamed once more, softly tugging her skirt inch by inch until it gave way and began to slide up her legs. She gasped into his mouth as he moved his hand beneath the cloth, palm following over the soft flesh of her leg, rising higher and higher, stopping only to hold just above her knee before sliding further higher.
She felt his hand travel over her hip and up her side, fingers caressing the edges of her breast again before softly cupping it. His thumb slid slowly across her nipple through her top, causing her knees to weaken and her body to press tighter against his.
He drew her closer, chest to chest, their lips crashing together in a kiss that revealed all they'd kept hidden. Passion surged as he guided her backwards till her back hit the wall behind them. One hand grabbed her breast, lightly massaging it, while the other roamed her thigh, teasing her up and down till she gasped against his lips.
Her skirt was already wrapped around her waist, and the cool breeze kissed her exposed flesh while his fingertips warmed every inch of it. He leaned into her, bringing their bodies together, the kiss moving towards her neck, and his thigh slipping between hers. She stretched towards him, wanting and craving for more.
Eventually, the intensity faded into something slower and more delicate. Their kisses softened and lingered as their breathing relaxed and their foreheads pushed together. Her hands lay gently on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall beneath them. The wind had died down, leaving only the warmth of their bodies and the shared silence, which spoke more than words.
He kissed her one last time, as if a promise had been whispered against her lips, and pushed her hair away from her face, eyes tracing her with something near to wonder. She allowed herself to melt into his arms a little longer, wrapping around him with a breath of relief.
He stayed beside her for a while, fingers trailing along her bare thigh one last time before pulling the fabric of her skirt down gently.
When he eventually left her side, she slowly turned around and tightened the blanket around her. Her chest still fluttered with the memory of his lips, hands, and the steady pace of their breath in the silent hallway.
Even as sleep pulled at her eyelids, her thoughts drifted back to the way his hand moved beneath her skirt, how his lips had searched her neck and chest, and the warmth of his palm caressing her breast. She pictured his lips travelling even lower, his fingers knowing her in ways that tightened her thighs and made her breath stop beneath her blanket.
She gasped and breathed gently, her body curling in on itself with pleasure at recalling Dave.
A faint smile appeared on her lips as the sweetness of those fantasies permeated her mind. She let the images sink in, warming her from the inside out.
And then, gradually, she dozed off, still warm from the memory of his touch and wrapped in desire and dreams.