LUSTING AFTER MY FATHER’s BEST FRIEND.
He only speaks to me when it’s necessary, in short words, and won’t stay in my company for too long.
He won’t even look at me.
He chose a guest room on the ground floor, thats as far away from me as physically possible while still living under the same roof.
But it’s different this time.
I didn’t kiss him. I didn’t do anything, actually. He's the one who touched me, set me on damn fire, told me I’m truly fucked, and called me baby girl.
He called me baby girl.
No matter how crazy my imagination is, it couldn’t, even in its wildest form, have made that up.