The air was warm, soft with the scent of blooming magnolias drifting through the half-open windows of their suite. Finals were over. The college town was buzzing with celebration, but inside their quiet apartment, Celine and Lia was chilling--just the two of them, curled up in hoodies and silk shorts, sipping jasmine tea over the low hum of lo-fi beats.
Their shared bedroom was a tapestry of contrast: Celine's side clean and orederly, her books and weights arranged with military precision; Lia's side soft and chaotic, sketchbooks stacked in haphazard piles, pressed flowers taped to the wall beside prints of surreal art and vintage polaroids of the two of them, laughing with sunlit eyes.
Celine sat cross-legged at the head of the bed, her honey-gold hair swept into a lazy bun, a faint smudge of eyeliner still defining her sharp, doll-like features. She was in one of Lia's oversized sweatshirts, because of course she was--she always stole Lia's clothes without asking, and Lia always let her. Across from her, Lia lounged against a mess of pillows, bare legs tucked beneath her, dark hair spilling over her shoulders as she absentmindedly doodled in the corner of a page already full of tiny sketches of Celine's face.
They'd been talking for hours--about nothing and everything. The comfort between them was so natural with a kind of wordless trust that had only deepened over the past year. And then, as if guided by some invisible force, Lia looked up and asked quietly:
"Celine... is there anything about you I don't know yet?"
Celine's fingers froze mid-stretch. She tilted her head, watching Lia with unreadable eyes. The question hung in the air longer than either of them expected.
"A few things," Celine said finally, her voice low, velvet-soft. "But not because I don't trust you."
Lia sat up slightly, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Then what?"
Celine hesitated--a rare moment for someone who was always so sure. She licked her lips and exhaled, slowly.
"I've never told anyone this," she said, gaze locked on Lia. "But I've never really been interested in boys. Or dating, at least not the way people do it normally. What I want is... control. I want someone to belong to me. Obey me. Give themselves to me. Not just in bed, but completely. I guess the word is dominance."
The confession landed in the room which quickly gave to silence. Celine expected a flicker of discomfort in Lia's expression--but what she saw instead was something like electricity. Shock, yes--but also passion.
Lia's fingers curled around the edge of her pillow. Her voice came out thinner than before.
"Like... a mistress?"
