Memories crashed through them in a rush.
Savannah at the door, trembling but brave.
Her voice when she said she wanted them.
Her body arching under their mouth.
Her fingers in their hair.
Her thighs tightening around their shoulders.
Her gasping for air, overwhelmed and undone.
Her smiling up at them while they played with the ends of her hair.
It hadn’t been a mistake.
Not last night.
Not for her.
Not for them.
Tilly’s hand twitched like it wanted to smooth her hair back, but stopped halfway. They didn’t want to wake her. Didn’t want to break this fragile, impossible moment where Savannah felt safe enough to sleep against them.
They swallowed hard.
How were they supposed to open that door and go back to being coworkers after this?
Savannah stirred.
Her fingers curled slightly against Tilly’s side. Her breath hitched in that soft half-waking way before her eyelashes fluttered. She blinked up at them, dazed from sleep, warm in a way Tilly wished they could keep forever.
“Hi,” she whispered.
Tilly couldn’t help it. They smiled. “Hi.”
Savannah pushed herself up slowly, hair falling into her face. Her cheeks were still pink from sleep and last night. She looked soft. Bare. Real.
For three seconds, she let herself look at them the way she had in the dark.
Open.
Wanting.
Unguarded.
Then the shift happened.
Small. Sudden.
Like a door closing quietly inside her.
Her eyes flicked away. Her shoulders tensed. Her breath sharpened with something Tilly recognized immediately: reality catching up.
Savannah pulled the sheet up as she sat, holding it to her chest even though she’d been sprawled across them minutes before without a hint of self-consciousness.
“You sleep okay?” she asked.
