This is the first smut I've ever written. I hope it's okay.
***
There are a thousand possible beginnings to the story of how this happened, and they're all swirling together at this moment. People tell stories of how they fell in love, how they knew that the person on their mind was the person they wanted to spend forever with, and that's something I could never quite wrap my head around. Because I've fallen in love with her a thousand times over, new sparks lighting as our friendship developed, and it's the culmination of those moments that led to where I am right now. Still half asleep, with her warm body slack with slumber by my side, I let my mind wander back. Trying to map everything out, from the very start.
***
The first spark came into being the day we met. It was a low-key introduction at a low-key gathering, a friend nodding from me to her and saying "Allie, Leah. Leah, Allie," leaving us to strike up a conversation that would possibly have been awkward under most circumstances. Instead, it was easy. Allie's dark eyes were welcoming, her smile genuine, and conversation flowed between us for the next hour. She was twenty, a year older than me; the cousin of the friend who had invited us and the rest of the group to hang out.
When the sun started to drop and people started to dissipate, Allie dug a pen out of her bag and took my hand, writing her full name on the back of my hand so that I could add her to Facebook. "It was really nice meeting you, Leah," she said, and though I didn't recognise it at the time, the first spark lit inside me at the sound of her voice saying my name for the first time. I turned my palm to give her hand a squeeze as I returned the sentiment, said goodbye, and while driving home, I kept taking my eyes off the road to glance at that hand. As if something had changed about it when it had touched hers. The words "Allie Chua" stood out in blue against my skin, and a little part of me never wanted to wash them off.
***
There was the hug she gave me the next time we'd met, when I became aware of the way her slender body felt in my arms. The way we'd met to go to a movie, but had become so absorbed in conversation that by the time we remembered our original intent, the movie had started twenty minutes ago. So we passed the next couple of hours learning about each other, and I was amazed at how easy it was for my thoughts to form words. I'm not always that great at that. With Allie, though, we shared stories of our pasts and hopes for our futures, and for the first time in so many years I felt someone. I could see someone's mind working in the same way as my own, someone who was on the same wavelength as I was, and for hours after we finally parted ways, I couldn't keep the smile off my face.
***
After six months of what had quickly become almost daily contact, Allie's twenty-first birthday came about. Speeches at twenty-firsts are often embarrassing, being held late enough in the night that the birthday person was slurring with alcohol; Allie, though, was barely drinking (possibly due to the number of fairly conservative relatives present), and spoke softly, but clearly. I loved listening to her family talking about what she was like when she was a kid, I loved seeing photos of her growing up into the beautiful young woman she was, I loved hearing her voice as she thanked the people who'd come to share this night with her. But the moment that sparked into my consciousness was when her thanks turned to her friends, when she finished with "and my gorgeous best friend, Leah".
People descended upon her when her speech ended, but somehow, I worked my way through the crowd to come face-to-face with her. As soon as her eyes met mine, her face split into a grin, and I grabbed her in a tight hug. She turned her head and reached up to place a peck on my cheek, and although it was winter, the room felt a little bit warmer.
***
The one day I can pinpoint is the day I became totally aware, consciously aware of my desire for her. It was the early hours of the morning, and though I'd been dozing for a couple of hours, I hadn't fallen into a deep sleep yet. Mostly awake, with my body feeling tight and warm, I let my fingers trail up my thighs. I was the comfortable, sleepy kind of aroused, and as I let a finger slide under the waistband of my underwear, the image that came into my mind was dark hair and dark eyes, and the small smooth hands I'd felt on my hand and arm and cheek so many times.
As one hand worked its way between my legs, the other slid underneath my T-shirt, the pad of my thumb finding my nipple and stroking it into hardness. Without any conscious thought, my mind was holding onto the image of Allie lying there beside me, her hands travelling across my body. Her almond-shaped eyes wide with desire.
A soft moan escaped me as my hips rocked up towards my hand and the tip of my finger finally slid across my clit. In my imagination, Allie's body was against mine, her lips and tongue warm against my neck and my collarbone, and my slow, languid movements gave way. My hips gave a jerk as I pictured Allie's hand taking the place of mine, and it seemed to take barely seconds until I was moaning into my pillow, riding the wave of one of the strongest orgasms I could remember.
In the days and weeks and months following, I would spend hours and hours thinking about that moment. But there was never any other conclusion I could come to than the obvious, the one that I knew was true. That I wanted her.
After that night, she became my most common visualisation. In my fantasies, I felt her hands and mouth on me. I uncovered her body, learning the parts of it that made her breath catch in her throat. In the real world, my heart started to beat harder when she hugged me, rested her chin on my shoulder, played with my fingers. My stomach gave a twitch the first time we went swimming together afterwards, although I'd seen her in a bikini so many times before that -- and had felt that familiar tug in my heart so many of those times. I hadn't fallen for her that night. I'd just realised something that had happened long ago.
***
This year is the first year I'm living out of home, in a tiny studio apartment that barely fits a double bed, small table and two chairs, and a beanbag. I moved out in January, with the help of my parents, but Allie insisted on coming to help out, and was the first one to throw her arms around me when I took my first step into my own place. My parents left first, and after we'd given up on unpacking boxes, Allie took my hand.
"I'm so proud of you, Leah."
I flushed. "It's not exceptional or anything. Like, I'm 22. Lots of people have moved out by now."
"Not me." I flinched internally at the look on Allie's face, immediately wishing to pull my words back. Allie has been living with her parents while she studies, and I know she's self-conscious about it.
"Sorry."
"It's okay." She opened her arms, and I stepped into them, relaxing into the embrace I'd come to know so well and crave so often. Lacking a sofa, I sat down in one of my dining chairs, Allie settling into my beanbag at my feet. Her head rested on my knee, and I brought my hand down to rest on her hair. Until Allie's dad came to pick her up, we didn't speak. Just sat. And the feeling of her gentle breath, her smooth hair under my hand, her warmth and her presence, became a part of my spirit.
