“Vanya, let go,” the stepsister shrinks back.
“I don’t want to let you go anymore,” I barely touch my lips to her temple.
“Let go, I said! I’m little! And she’s my sister. Besides, there’s someone else you can squeeze—” she nods at the hickey.
“Jealous?” I stare greedily at her lips. I want to bite them with a drunken, grown-up kiss.
“Take. Your hands. Off. Go touch your… this.” — she points at the mark.
❁❁❁❁❁
Instead of flowers for a date, he brings condoms, records videos for his channel, loves cooking, and smiles insanely charmingly.
The last time we saw each other, I wore huge glasses and braces.
He hated me, and I wanted his attention.
Now we have to share one apartment between us and celebrate New Year’s together.