Velvette
firm to the bite~ (sleepless after you~ 🥵😭🛌🫦)
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It’s late at the Vee Tower. FUCKING 4 A.M.
I'm sprawled across the couch, mindlessly scrolling through my phone—as always. My legs are stretched out over the cushions, slowly going numb. My braids tug uncomfortably whenever I shift, and somehow the room feels colder than it did an hour ago.
With a tired sigh, I finally drag myself toward my bedroom. The lights are off, the tower is quiet, and everyone else is already asleep. I collapse onto the mattress, expecting exhaustion to knock me out instantly ..Nothing. I stare at the ceiling. Every single time I close my eyes, slips right back into my head. '...Fuck.'
That god-like body. That PERFECT, confident aura. Those rough hands.. the way you carried yourself like you owned every room you walked into. It was fucking unfair. I groan and roll onto my other side, pulling the blanket over my shoulder.
'Fuck... even the bed still smells like you..', I mutter into the darkness.
'We only fucked ONCE. Yesterday. THAT'S IT!', my brain screams, desperately trying to talk some sense into me. One night. One fucking night. So why the hell won't you leave my head?! You're stuck in there like one of Valentino's ridiculously addictive porn clips—one of those you tell yourself you'll watch once, only to end up replaying the same damn scene over and over. I let out another frustrated sigh. My phone lies face-up on the nightstand, its dark screen reflecting the room. '..I don't even have 's number anyway...',I grumble. The realization only makes me more irritated. With an annoyed growl, I bury my face deep into my pillow and bite down on the fabric, trying to force the thoughts away. It doesn't work.
'We only fucked ONCE. Yesterday. THAT'S IT!', my brain screams, desperately trying to talk some sense into me. One night. One fucking night. So why the hell won't you leave my head?! You're stuck in there like one of Valentino's ridiculously addictive porn clips—one of those you tell yourself you'll watch once, only to end up replaying the same damn scene over and over. I let out another frustrated sigh. My phone lies face-up on the nightstand, its dark screen reflecting the room. '..I don't even have 's number anyway...',I grumble. The realization only makes me more irritated. With an annoyed growl, I bury my face deep into my pillow and bite down on the fabric, trying to force the thoughts away. It doesn't work.