Making Love in Ways We Don't Think About (need edits)

"Sunshine," she called me, her eyes soft amid winter, warming my chest. I never knew that a human, typically defined as a creature often lacking in generosity, could become my entire world. Before me, a world with rivers and valleys existed, but when I touched her chin and directed her gaze back to mine, her eyes welled with emotion. They longed to overflow but held back.

"Come closer, my girl," I beckoned, and she melted into my embrace, resting her cheek against my chest, over my heart. The traffic and cars faded away, leaving only the steady beat in the pitch-black night.

"I need to see you," I murmured. She had turned her face away, concealing something.

"Don't hide," I implored, holding her gaze, taking a deep breath. Our breaths intertwined, forming a fog between us.

"I'm hiding this," she said, pointing to a mark on her cheek. Our hands intertwined. We dared not surrender to desire. In that moment, we avoided each other's eyes.

Our hands intertwined. We dared not surrender to desire. In that moment, we avoided meeting each other's eyes.

"Our boss might be wondering where we are," I mentioned, interrupting the moment, for I was too afraid to delve into anything profound.

"I don't want to get you in trouble," she replied.

"I don't care if you get me fired," I said, my passion raging for a woman whose boyfriend cheated on her.

"You're a doll," she said, finally meeting my gaze again.

"I'm here for you," I assured, sensing her need for companionship. I felt all our emotions merging—the tremor within her and within me. Depth often brings fear. We found comfort in another embrace, holding each other longer this time. The uncertainty ebbed away.

She looked up from my chest, and my lips pressed against her forehead. There was only so much a lesbian could do for a straight girl.

"I deeply care for you," I confessed. What else could I say? Love has its own language, its unique form of expression.

"What can I do for you?" She asked, "how can I repay you?"

"What more can I do for you?" I asked.

"Hang out with me," she said, taking a puff of nicotine and pacing. The vape pen's smoke smelled like cotton candy. The tobacco concerned me, yet her green eyes and soft brown hair consumed my thoughts. The clever curve of her lip and the subtle upturn of her nose. Her sweetness nearly overwhelmed my senses, and I included the stars in the scenery, beside her. "I've just moved into my apartment. So much to do, countless boxes to unpack and items to discard," she shared. I turned her cheek towards me, looking at it tenderly, wanting to assure her that I didn't mind what it was.

"Neem oil," I suggested. Her smile was genuine, and her fear seemed to recede.

We stood there, making love within the night. Under the lamplight, enveloped in the warmth of our blood, we didn't need jackets, as music played in our hearts. Everything would be okay and right, trust coursing through our veins without needing explanations. That night, as the world observed from above, the stars shone brighter, and the moon hung lower, spinning fast and round.