But she doesn't know how to ask, really, she doesn't know the words she should use to let Z read her the way Cass reads Z, the way Cass knows what Z wants. What Cass wants too.
She wonders for a second if it's wishful thinking, the way Z's shoulders are tense with please touch me, the way her hands move like they're about to reach out for Cass and then back because Z is scared. But no, Cass is right, she knows it.
Cass doesn't understand what's scaring Z; she feels like she's being just as obvious. Her fingers itch to reach out and brush Z's bangs away from her face, to curve around her jaw and tilt it up. Cass is brave, but this is hard.
"Right," Z says, and gets up, moving towards her.
Cass waits, because she thinks maybe, she thinks--
And closes her eyes because when Z is kissing her, she doesn't have to look to understand.
no subject
But she doesn't know how to ask, really, she doesn't know the words she should use to let Z read her the way Cass reads Z, the way Cass knows what Z wants. What Cass wants too.
She wonders for a second if it's wishful thinking, the way Z's shoulders are tense with please touch me, the way her hands move like they're about to reach out for Cass and then back because Z is scared. But no, Cass is right, she knows it.
Cass doesn't understand what's scaring Z; she feels like she's being just as obvious. Her fingers itch to reach out and brush Z's bangs away from her face, to curve around her jaw and tilt it up. Cass is brave, but this is hard.
"Right," Z says, and gets up, moving towards her.
Cass waits, because she thinks maybe, she thinks--
And closes her eyes because when Z is kissing her, she doesn't have to look to understand.