"Are we going to your place?" Selene slurred, leaning back in the passenger seat. Her fingers tapped an unsteady rhythm on the armrest, the alcohol in her veins fueling a dangerous boldness, loosening her tongue.
Lyra glanced at her, her expression a complex mix of concern and something softer. "Yes. I thought you might need a quiet place to... decompress." Her tone was gentle, yet carried an undercurrent of firm control, a anchor in Selene's swirling intoxication.
"I'm not that drunk," Selene insisted, a lopsided grin spreading across her face even as the world gently swayed. Lyra's calm composure was a challenge, and Selene felt a primal urge to disrupt it, to see what lay beneath. "You know, you're really pretty when you're serious. But you're also super cute when you get all flustered."
Lyra shot her a sidelong glance, a faint blush coloring her neck. "I'm not flustered."
"Oh, I beg to differ," Selene teased, her words slow and deliberate. "I think you are."
The air in the car grew thick, charged with a tension that had been building for weeks. Each flirtatious comment from Selene felt like a stone dropped into the quiet pool of Lyra's restraint, and she could see the ripples.
When they pulled into the parking lot of Lyra's apartment building, Selene's heart began to race. This was it. She was at Lyra's home. The reality of it cut through the alcoholic haze, a spike of nervous excitement.
Lyra killed the engine, and the sudden silence felt deafening. "Come on," she said softly, exiting the car. She didn't wait, circling around to the passenger side to open Selene's door.
As Selene stepped out, her legs betrayed her, buckling slightly on the pavement. Lyra was there in an instant, a steadying hand on her arm. The touch sent a jolt through Selene; warm, solid, and electric. She leaned into it, into her, more than was necessary.
"Easy there," Lyra murmured, her voice laced with a hint of amusement. "You're really feeling it, aren't you?"
"Maybe a little," Selene admitted with a giggle, leaning further into Lyra's support. "But I'm fine." She winked, the alcohol gifting her a bravery she knew she might lack in the morning.
She could feel Lyra's hesitation in the stiff way she held herself, a clear effort to maintain a careful distance. It only made Selene more determined to close it.
Inside, Lyra's apartment was a reflection of her: quiet, orderly, and smelling faintly of coffee and old paper. Selene sank onto the couch, tucking her legs beneath her and fixing Lyra with a look that was both playful and intense.
"Sit with me," Selene said, her tone dripping with a teasing boldness. "Come on. We can talk. Or... whatever."
Lyra hesitated, her eyes scanning Selene's face before she reluctantly sat on the far edge of the couch, preserving a careful space between them. The tension was palpable.
"Alright," Lyra said, her voice barely a whisper. "What do you want to talk about?"
Selene leaned forward, her movements slightly uncoordinated. "I think you're avoiding me, Lyra," she said, the playful tone not quite masking the real hurt beneath. "You can tell me anything, you know. You don't have to keep acting like you don't care."
She watched a flicker of vulnerability cross Lyra's features, a crack in the serene facade.
"You're cute when you're all serious," Selene pressed on, emboldened, leaning closer. "But I like you better when you're relaxed. When you're not holding back."
Lyra's eyes widened slightly at the directness. She seemed caught, wanting to retreat but unable to look away. The air grew heavy, charged with unspoken words and unmet desire. Selene's heart hammered against her ribs as she closed the final inches between them.
Without a second thought, Selene reached out, her hand coming to rest on Lyra's arm. At the touch, Lyra's breath hitched, a spark of electricity passing between them.
"Lyra," Selene said, her voice low and earnest. "I need you to stop running from me."
Lyra's gaze dropped to Selene's lips, her body taut with a warring mix of fear and want. For a heartbeat, the entire world narrowed to the space between their mouths.
Driven by instinct and liquid courage, Selene closed the distance.
The kiss was soft, tentative, a question rather than a demand. But it was enough to send a wave of pure warmth crashing through Selene. This was nothing like the accidental brush in the library. This was intentional. Real. She could feel Lyra's initial stiffness, the rapid flutter of her pulse beneath Selene's fingertips.
Selene pulled back slowly, her own lips tingling, her breath caught in her throat. She had crossed a line from which there was no return.
"Maybe you won't hate me for that," Selene murmured, her voice breathless.
There was a long, suspended silence. Lyra simply looked at her, her eyes wide and dark, reflecting the dim light of the room. When she finally spoke, her voice was a soft, trembling whisper, filled with a conflict that mirrored the chaos in Selene's own soul.
"I'm not ready for this," Lyra confessed. But the words weren't a rejection. They were a plea. "But... I don't want you to leave either."
A gentle, relieved smile touched Selene's lips. The door wasn't slammed shut; it was being held open, just a crack. "I'm not going anywhere."