Wake Me Up, (MouseNoises & Remy)

[MouseNoises]

If you think we're strong enough
Come on and wake me up,

(Don't post unless your name is up top,)​

 

[Princess-In-Silk-Chains]

The night was cold, but Alyssa McDowell couldn't actually feel it, in her hand that bottle of watermelon flavor vodka was dangling, its contents having made her flesh plenty warm, but, not so much her heart. The glass-neck of it threatening to slip from her pale fingers at any second what with her whisper of a grasp on it.

The busty woman was in a comfy black sweater with a cartoon-like pastel blue raccoon stitched on the chest, a little lettering right beneath it that said 'It's garbageCAN, not garbageCAN'T!', and she wore blue legging of similar color with high-top sneakers of both azure and onyx tone to bring the simple outfit together. Even when comfy she wore things with a sense of style all her own, another outlet, arguably much better than the one she was currently indulging in at this moment.

The city of Rain-Mount felt quieter than usual, or maybe she was simply so unfocused that it just seemed so.

Could drinking inhibit ones hearing?

Did that even fucking matter? What kinda stupid useless question...

She lifted the bottle and took another swig, her eyes squinting and she scowled as the liquid burned it's way down and she petulantly mumbled, "Yuck." When she pulled it away. Ugh, she didn't taste a drop of watermelon, which she had kind of been hoping for to help get her through the taste, it being one of her favorite flavors.
Her foot steps were wobbly, lacking a sense of depth-perception as her crimson head teetered left and right, left and right, like her neck only had a touch more strength than that of a newborn. Her movements were aimless, her reason of climbing up to the roof? Pointless.

Alyssa blinked, her foot tapping into the little red-brick ledge between roof and the side walk below, halting her trek, just a foots height of a barrier in the way.

Oh wait, no, she came up here for privacy...what upset her so much again? She didn't usually drink...but she had wanted to forget something...but now that she had briefly forgotten she found her thoughts searching.
She squinted up at the sky, looking at the stars...or trying to at least, considering the light-polution, and she drifted to earlier that day.
She was hanging out with her dear Leslie, just having coffee between writing for work, and she spotted a woman and her daughter, and then hearing the exchange between them...

'I love you mommy.'
'I love you more.'

The smile the woman had, that familiar maternal look, and that she was wearing a specific shade of purple...the image of Alyssa's own mother had been so violently rammed to the forefront of her mind she stopped breathing for a second, every ounce of focus needing to be on not letting Leslie see the heart-break in her face, and it only just barely worked long enough before Alyssa could find an excuse to come back home and break down.

Now, her ruddy with intoxication cheeks were stained with tears, she hadn't even realized they had begun to fall from her foggy eyes, her oval-rimmed spectacles only making them more huge, and it was hard to see now, the world was fuzzy as her mental-musings.
Her head fell forward as her chest began to rise and fall with vigor, the sobs making it sound close to hyperventilating.

A year, a whole year, and she was still finding emotional-land-minds just out and about as she tried to live her life, blowing up in her face when she least expected it.

It wasn't fair. She shouldn't be gone.

"She wasn't even 50 yet.." Alyssa gasped, her eyes stinging as the vodka fell, crashing to the ground and shattering so that she could take her trembling hand and place the heel of her palm to her forehead, blearily staring back down at the cement way waaaay below her somber perch, "I m-miss you so much...I miss you...w-w-why did you have to...have to..." She sniffed harshly, her hands reaching down to that stone-mini-guardwall so as not to fall completely over. Every day this icy-vice-grip held her heart, ever since she had to put her in the ground beside her living-but-broken-father and equally numbed sister, another family member they had to bury all too soon.

It hurt, and it just kept hurting.

When would it stop? Why did everything she used to distract her only soften the ache?

Would it ever go away?

She was having so much trouble hiding it...It was so much harder to conceal...this pain...

How much more could she handle? How much more did she care to try?

People were starting to notice...even if only a little bit they were starting to notice and...and ask. That seemed just as harmful, if people knew how she was hurting...they would be so upset for her...she couldn't allow that...she couldn't be that burden.

Alyssa's expression became serene, unnervingly so. That twist in her brow smoothed over and her mouth was parted slightly in her mournful huffing.

She wanted to see her mother...and her brother...but not by visiting their graves...

Again, with a bobble-head motion, she straightened up, her sadly-glowing cerulean-owl eyes peering down, being about 14 stories high...all that concrete...this distance...the speed of dropping.

It could all be over...the pain...if she wanted it to stop...

Alyssa's right leg rose, stepping onto the higher-level bricking, her mind so fuzzy, so gone. All that was there was pain and grief, her usual methods of cheering up drowning in the liquor. If she could just see them...she just wanted to see them...she just wanted to stop hurting.

Her other foot rose, standing fully on the ledge now, placid expression in a disturbing staring contest with the side-walk, this moment in the far reaches of her brain being sort of funny considering she was normally afraid of heights. Alyssa took a deep shaky breath of resolve and profound misery that had taken the wheel of her Motor-functions. Her right foot trembled and rose up, wobbling as she stood on one leg, the other hovering above this looming height.

"It would be...so easy...just a split second..." She told herself, her eyes squinting a bit as the tears rolled a bit more intensely, the world nothing but a haze of agony. Just a little further into gravity, if she could just put her weight down on this other side.

One way or another, she could see them again.

"I mean...would it even matter...to be gone too?...Why stay?" Her lungs held this last bit of breath, her heart jumped into her throat, and she could feel her heel shakily beginning to press her ever so gently forward, beginning to lean out towards doom...towards peace.

There would be no need to hide after death.

 

[MouseNoises]

It was late, later than she'd like to be arriving. . . any other day she'd already be up on the roof escaping from this all, instead she was underground parking in the off orange glow of the garage, looking at her watch under leather street wear, she did not drive a car - she rode a bike, therefore a certain brand of attire was required, even if she didn't though, a good, quality, leather jacket was always required. There were certain things adulthood required, every one of them a piece of herself she had to give up, twenty bucks for the goop in her hair, two minutes to apply it, the sticker for her license plate, the insurance, her parking spot, her skin routine, her persnickety fashion sense that (these days) came out of a box through the wonders of the internet, these were all small sacrifices everyone made growing older, the sum of Sam's parts like most, was many small sacrifices. So why not stay late? Why not work the function her boss asked of her? She'd use the extra money to make more sacrifices, more hair goop, more clothes, more small statements to put herself farther away from whoever she used to be, looking at herself in the shiny surface of her elevator's façade she was nearly unrecognizable even without her helmet.

Bing-bong. . . woosh,

Elevator doors spread and Sam stowed her helmet under her arm, walking in. She couldn't wait to get to the top floor, to get to her shower, to get to her rooftop escape, to get over with the stress of the day. To wash the goop, now flattened to her head, out of her hair and the day's work from her cheeks and brow. Her muscles ached from hefting kegs all morning, strained from serving light food and taking orders for brews - Trivia night and they were down a server. Years ago Sam never would have stepped up to the plate to mingle with customers, to serve, but today she felt a little more comfortable in her skin - if only for all those wonderful sacrifices.

Bing-bong. . . woosh,

Clompy leather boots took her up the hall, she had the western most apartment on the top floor of a high rise sandwiched between two other high rises, all three upon a strip of storefronts with underground parking and parking more still at the back. Park Place Towers, she wasn't sure if those words were actually placed anywhere amongst the buildings but everyone referred to them as just that, Sam had been here for some time but it didn't feel like home, not really, just enough comfort to not be 'her apartment,' no, this was 'her place,' she kept up with the cleaning, with the bills, she had some things - some nice things. But it wasn't home, she felt out of place here, it was lonely. . . she always considered a pet, a furry warm one, one to cuddle and hold when she got home. Smirking at herself she opened her door, no scrabbling claws or mewling babe to greet her, just engineered hardwood and area rugs, decorations and a few socks, misplaced laundry from the morning and night before, the scent of sandalwood and vanilla bean hiding her drains.

Smash! A bottle broke in the distance, Sam thought little of it-it was a quiet night in Rain-Mount but this close to downtown things did happen like that from time-to-time. . . still, it kinda sounded like it came from. . . up?

She only sighed and shed her leather jacket, setting down her helmet on her island, not far in from the door, her kitchen and living room one open concept space - one wall was shared with the other building, but she enjoyed quite the view (over her fire-escape) of the building across the street. . . city living. Still, there was a secret solace in her fire escape and the glass wall that was easy enough to push back to access said fire escape. It was the most redeeming quality of the smaller living space she could barely afford.

Changing out of her uniform, a starchy button up shirt that looked like a mechanic's more than a server's and jeans, Sam pulled a pair of comfy sweats over her toned legs, a white T-shirt over her sports bra and equally musclebound core. Her Gym was almost more like home than this place it felt, as a result a lot of her loungewear and casual wear had it's logo across it. CrossFab, an all women's crossfit outfit just around the corner, it was kinda lame, pink and feminine - but she got the appeal, it sold her anyway.

Pale skin with red blotches, paler green eyes - they stared back at her in the mirror as if there was something more to this than washing off the day. "You're doing OK, kid." she reminded herself, like her brother (one of two,) would have if he were here to do it himself. It felt a little strange talking to herself but her therapist had assured her positive self-talk was a healthy thing. . . slipping into that CrossFab hoodie, the new one, red, comfy as heck - with the infernal goop washed out of her hair, now curly and untamed atop her head, Sam was quick to roll a joint and head out onto the fire escape.

Rusty metal creaked and wheezed under her weight as she climbed the ladder up onto her roof. There was a steely cage around her though she was sure there was nothing particularly safe about being up there once she got out of the fire escape, after all, there were danger signs everywhere they could reasonably be posted, nobody had gotten rid of the little chair and side table she'd lugged up to lounge with. She'd done this for years now without interruption so it shouldn't have been too unreasonable that until she started attempting to light her pot that she noticed her. . .

"H-hey," Sam, tried not to startle the girl on the ledge but at the same time - she made herself known, dropping her joint and hurrying over to the side of her building. Next to the parapets of her apartment was a several foot drop then the roof of Alyssa's, both gravel with brick sections dividing them from the drop to the street but very little to stop the poor thing from blowing away in the wind at this point. Her heart was long sunk, panic was an after thought, acting came first.

Sick with adrenaline and other spicy drugs Samantha skidded in slippers across her rooftop to the drop, over and down to Alyssa's side of the world - avoiding the smashed bottle - to just a few feet short of her. "Hay, d-do you. . . do you think you could come down from there?" what else could she say? She didn't know this person from anyone else. . . but she didn't deserve to wind up like that, down there, smashed across the pavement. . . the thought made her sick. "C'mon, I got you. . ." offering her hands to help her down even.

 

[Princess-In-Silk-Chains]

Alyssa's foot stopped in mid air, her whole body stopped. She was like a statue for suicidal-awarness, frozen there with one foot over oblivion.

She heard a voice.

Oh gods no.

Maybe...maybe that was just her conscience telling her to stop. Too bad the anxiety wasn't insta-sobering, though, it worked a little, truth be told. Though her high cheeks remained wet and rosy, her lashes had ceased their rain of grief and she blinked when, unfortunately, the voice continued, and she saw on the roof beside her, a sinewy person with hand out and face full of dread for fear of witnessing...what she had almost done.

She had burdened a woman with her own turmoil, it was done, she was under someone's gaze in her most vulnerable miserable state.

Someone saw her...there was a person right here.

She couldn't even pray for the idea of this being some drunken mirage, which she might have believed since she found the broad shouldered miss just the sort of person her mind might come up with, always having a thing for that sort of build, but for obvious reasons, Alyssa wasn't considerably focused on any of that.

Her sea-and-treasure eyes zoned in on that offered hand, and within her addled thoughts, a small little voice pointed out to her, 'someone's offering to help...wouldn't it be nice...to be helped?' Her dainty hand hovered, stretched forth, there was a feeling of comfort that seemed in her reach, but then, like always...

She declined assistance. Denied admittance to weakness. Preferred to just...pretend.

In quick succession Alyssa stumbled to the side, further from this stranger, and nearly tripped her way back onto the roof-proper, grabbing at a big metal thing, probably the protective casing for a air-conditioner, and huffed, desperate to collect herself. She propped her back up against it and stared, her owl eyes, as owl like as possible thanks to those glasses and her bulging expression, and her drunken psyche went a mile a minute trying to think of some sort of 'out.'

She lifted her hands up by her shoulders, palms facing the brunette, and she stuttered, "P-Pranked!"

Even in her stupor, she understood how flimsy this plan would be, but she went for it anyway, forcing a unconvincing smile to her face, one that was no doubt a pity to witness, "Man, I r-really looked co-convincing huh?" If this was a prank, that would be a morally bankrupt thing to do, so, with another step away toward her own fire escape the buxom woman frowned, though it was almost a comical frown, like, the joke was that she was joking about making that kind of joke, "Uh, but you know what? I-I see now that," Her greenish-blue eyes rolled into the back of her head for a moment, and her knees felt weak, the adrenaline rush not mixing well with the vodka, and her hands clung to the metal stair railing for balance, "Th-That's not something to-to joke about, I'm gonna-I'm gonna," Her scarlet head fell back for a second before jolting forward, neck still loose, barely standing, clinging to that railing in an almost crouch, feeling so pathetic and her flight response trying to ignore the limitations of her own body so she could get away, "I'm gonna...go home and really-really re-think my ideas about-about comedy, take a-a-acountability...leave it to-to professionals maybe." Her joke was pathetic.

Alyssa fell to her knees, eyes closed tight as the humiliation indicated more tears were just at the brim, this having never happened before, she had come close a few times, but, holy shit, someone saw her like that, like this.

"Fuck, w-why is it so hard to walk when you're drunk?" It was a duh sort of question that everyone knew the answer too, but the shame made her look for something to blame, other than herself, as she was barely able to move and her heart was a war-drum too loud for her ears, like it would cause permanent damage at any moment if this continued.

Had to get away, had to get back under control, but...fuck, her body was a wreck.

 

[MouseNoises]

"P-Pranked!"

If it was one, it wasn't a very good one - that said Sam wasn't about to give her a tongue lashing for that. With the manic girl, tears and all turning to face her - palms up at the defense Samantha's stomach churned with panic, she felt a sting of vertigo inside her, like her entire body was falling out through her ass, it was far from pleasant. She'd never really been so close to suicide before withholding her own struggles, never close enough to attempt just flirt with the idea. Sure, she knew kids in school who had theirs, self-harm and dark humour too but nothing so blisteringly real, railed into her throat and through her eyes with no attention to her desires, needs, she did not consent to this! -she just wanted to smoke a fucking joint, "Woah, woah there. . ." what, was she a horse? Fuck Sam! -get it together.

"Careful, it's OK." Sam's quavering voice tried to invoke something close to reassurance but she was having a difficult time keeping it together.

"Heh-heh, ye-ah, boy. . . you got me." going along with the terrible façade this was all just some cruel joke, life felt like that sometimes so why not?

With a third point of contact to the building, the railing, now engaged by her desperate friend of sorts a sigh of relief overwhelmed her. She felt a sudden release of the burden of this moment though she knew she was far from free of it just yet. Oh no, she now had an obligation to this girl, to this girl and her teary, swollen eyes, her poor sense of humour and dubious handle on honesty.

You shouldn't go home. You shouldn't be alone. She never quite voiced those opinions but instead got a little closer. For a moment she stood over the wreck with a frown, unsure how to proceed. She didn't want to overstep but they'd just shared a very intimate moment, she felt close to this person before her, the tearful, beautiful sprite who didn't know how to shut up, who tears didn't suit entirely. . . she was far too pretty to be in this state.

"I know. . . I know," further reassuring her she sat down beside the drunk heap and puffed out her lower lip trying to think of something to say, something wise or, or something that would make it better - but she kept circling back to sorry, sorry because she did understand, she wasn't exactly a perfect ray of light these days, while the thought to end it didn't come often she'd struggled with it here or there, struggled with the thoughts of who might miss her and why, of what impact it might have, most of all - what it would put an end to.

Life was painful, ending it however was a supremely selfish waste she generally resolved herself with.

"Do you mind if I sit here? -with you. . . for a bit anyway." just till I know you're not gunna. . . do that again. Without thinking on it much she scooted a little closer, not quite touching but close enough to.

"I'm Sam." reaching across, Sam offered her hand to shake, hold, whatever, it was larger than average, more callous than not but still had its femininity, nails certainly not painted though manicured and maintained. She was larger than average, standing just a hair over six feet tall, broad shoulders, boxy jaw. She was a big girl, big enough to wrap herself around the other and never let go, never let her back up on that ledge, catch her if she fell. . . heaven forbid. "What's your name?"

 

[Princess-In-Silk-Chains]

Alyssa's head rose and fell, her shoulder rose and fell, even though she was in a heap unable to make any sort of great escape, she was also in constant gentle motion, that sort of drunken sway that was out of her control, her knuckles going white...er, white-er as she held onto the fire-escape, and she could feel the larger presence take a seat beside her even without looking, her loose side-ponytail a big red curtain between her bespectacled face and the look of pity she was no doubt receiving.

She sniffled harshly, and violently used the back of her right hand to try and dry her face, almost knocking her glasses off and down the metal-stairs but her very-alert-even-if-encombered senses managed to grab the leg of the light-gilded peepers and fumble them back on their place upon her nose.

She heard a name given, and slowly, her head finally shifted, her maroon drapery falling back over her shoulder, her weary orbs illuminated softly by the obnoxious roof light to help any that might be using the emergency steps, so close it could be seen, she had the type of eyes that looked green from far away, but they were trick eyes, get close enough, and it was all the work of flicks of yellow inside the blue, making a pretend image from far away...she had very appropriate eyes in this way.
That gold-and-sea gaze lowered down to the offered palm, pondering her predicament, and just, the rush of a realization that, she wouldn't be able to erase this person's memory, they saw her like this...nothing would change that unless the woman suffered from short term memory loss.
The vermillion tressed woman couldn't handle the disappointment in herself, feeling bogged down, but then, as was common, if she could get just sad enough, her avoidance tendency would kick in next, so abruptly, she exhaled a laugh through her nose and fell onto her back beside 'Sam', 'PPFFFT," She slapped her forehead with her hand, probably a little too hard, and just, started laughing, this odd enthusiastic yet mournful cackle that could break hearts, "HAH HAHAH!" Until her breath hitched and it threatened to turn to sobs again.

What was the point? Sam had already seen enough to know she was...that.

From her place laying on the dirty ground, her bosomy figure a bit more pronounced as the sweater laid more heavily upon her form, the mounds of her chest just barely within the realm of being realistic in their roundness and largeness (but just barely) and she reached out aimlessly, searching for that offered hand, but again, depth was not her friend, but after a second her soft fingers found a coarse palm and it collected her grasp into a weak shake, "Hey Sam, I'm Alyssa."

As dainty held firm, her senses were informed...ah, there was comfort to be had here...a rough hand but...warm.

Her thumb absent mind of personal boundaries rubbed back and forth over the rear of Sam's palm, and with her other senses over-powering voice of reason, with the flight mechanic in her head shut off because, well, there was no fucking point now, she held that hand a bit tighter, and then grappled her way back to a sit with Sam as an anchor, her more slender shoulder bumping into a more boulder-ish shape, usually the barely over 5' lass wouldn't be anywhere near eye-level with this woman, but sitting, they were at least a bit closer...a bit.
Her body was weak, her pride bruised, and her shame on display.

So when her woozy shoulder bumped into Sam's again, she didn't resist leaning against her, curvy side to rocky side, "So...Sam," Her neck seemed to finally loose it's constant fight and let her head fall, her ruby cheek nuzzling down to rest, again on that red-hoodie-shoulder, "You the t-type that can...keep secrets? Or m-maybe you're su-su-su..." Her brunette brow, revealing the manufactured hair coloring on her head, furrowed, not being able to grasp the word 'susceptible' and so just skipping it, "Maybe you c-can be Jedi mind tri-tricked?"

Since her legs were noodles, maybe she could simply build her funny facade right back up then and there, worth a try...it's not like she knew any other way.

Fuck, why did it have to be someone that was normally just her fucking type too...that somehow made a bad situation a million times worse.

 

[MouseNoises]

It wasn't really that funny, not to Sam - but she got people didn't really act rationally when they were dealing with such intense emotions, the sort that drove them toward the edge of a high rise anyway. She knew it to be something more hysterical than really. . . amused, it just made her want to wrap up the loosing girl just right, just so all her broken bits fit back together in working condition - if only for that moment.

Alyssa, who ever knew danger spelled differently, still six letters given. What was more of a redflag than this. . . it was still dripping red with crimson dye, droplets falling all around them like icy rain, sobering, but she pushed on through. She wasn't looking for that right now, how could she be? It would be cruel to think like that, to try and be more than just there for someone in such vulnerable state. She was touch starved though, there was no helping that, a clammy hand wrapped around hers after a moment more carrying on and she shook it back, firm where Alyssa was not. She leaned her on her shoulder so delicately, she could feel her cheek through her sweater. . . feel the chill on her skin, her thumb working circles into the back of her hand didn't go unnoticed either, oddly comforting.

Maybe she could be strong for both of them, if only for the moment. Whatever she needed though, Sam could be there for it she thought. She was strong enough, wasn't she? The panic had waned down to adrenaline, her modest bust still climbing and depressing with every breath she took. It wasn't climbing over here either, that had freaked her right out.

". . . y'ah. You're safe with me." She couldn't help but nudge the other's crown with her cheek, leaning against her the same way she leaned on Sam. After a moment she even wrapped an arm around her, "I hope you don't mind. I could really use a hug right now." she made it about her, but that was it about lonesome folk, they could smell their own. "Your secret is safe with me too." Sam spoke softly to Alyssa, her voice even despite still being a little worked up from this all.

"--and your jedi mind tricks won't work here." backing off she forced a weak smile. She wanted to see Alyssa, if only for a moment to see the playful smile on hers. Alyssa's face soaked with tears. "It's OK, like. . . you don't have t'," smudging one with her thumb Samantha gave her a look of earnest conviction. "It's okay to be sad if you want kiddo, y'gotta let it out sometimes or. . ." it'll drive you to the edge of a building. Something closer to concern. "Wanna talk about why you came up here?

Or like," Sam shrugged and looked off, straightening her neck so Alyssa could return to her shoulder "I was gunna smoke a joint on my roof, " it wasn't important, she just wanted her to know. . . "I'm happy to kick it with you for a bit, no judgement, just hugs and we'll talk about wha-, whatever, or nothing." she didn't know what to say, she wasn't a professional, she wasn't even close to her - but she thought maybe that was OK too, "I just, I get sad too sometimes I guess, I try to tell myself I'm better off around." Sam dragged her hand through her lifeless wet hair, real life affirming stuff there chica. she silently chided herself.

"Don't wanna miss out on the miracle, might be close by." the words sounded dry and something close to sarcastic but she meant it, she had faith, "It'll get better. . . don't y'ah think?" her smile lacked the same conviction as before but she still seemed genuine enough. "If it doesn't just'uh. . . y'know, y'gotta make a change." that she knew about, that she could say with conviction, she was the queen of making drastic changes.

 

[Princess-In-Silk-Chains]

'You're safe with me.'

Alyssa's shoulders tensed, as it felt like this basically-stranger's hand metaphorically reached betwixt her ribs and cupped beneath her aching heart, the softest little perch of encouragement, and then, as if knowing it would make her just that much more pliable, that sculpted arm looped back behind her and claimed it was for Sam's benefit as opposed to the sorrowful four-eyes.
Her head lulled back when Sam leaned in order to make eye contact, her own curl at the edge of her lips faint at returning the nerdy comment with a near-direct-quote, and her bottom lip trembled as she did her best to hold it together, the smile painful as it was so tired of always being forced upon her face, but every word that came out of Sam's mouth felt like a little tug to her chest, like someone calling for a scarred animal in a bush to come out in order to take them to safety.

Her face was playing a ping-pong game of a exaggerated smile to seem ok, and a contour of misery, this opportunity to just...talk...it wasn't as though she hadn't though on it a few times, everyone wanted to express themselves to some degree, even her...and especially the darker bits. If she ever had the guts to go to therapy, she knew that would be one of the first things advised to her no doubt.
It was so funny, even though Sam was sober, she seemed to be stumbling a bit too, but it was so endearing.

"Heh...of course you're nice too." She spoke more to her own musings than the kind woman, and she could feel that emotional damn was strained, the pressure so intensely pressed, and just, getting weaker by the second...could she really? Could she just...talk about it?

It hurt so fucking bad...it was so tempting.

"You make a good point, about...s-staying...I mean...th-there would be people upset if I...If I...had.." She couldn't get herself to admit what she had been at the cusp of, and even admitting this much, something snapped, and the dam suddenly broke, perhaps it was the weak barrier from the alcohol.

Who knew, but something inside her snapped and her arms reached up and both of them latched around Sam, her face leaning up until it was at the crook of her neck, buried deeply into that hoodie, even squeezing up against her, chest to chest, if she were stronger probably even a bit suffocatingly tight, "S-Said you could use a hug r-right?" Her mind was working a bit slowly, 'falling' for the reasoning as though it had taken a second longer than normal to process in the cogs of her brain.
She was a softly built woman, her bust made for great cushion as she all but shimmied her way at the center of Sam's lap in order to lay against her, leaning the both of them back as her body couldn't stop itself from holding as fully as she could manage, that desperation for comfort taking every chance it could what with the reigns of her brain being temporarily loosened.

She shuddered, feeling those tears on her lashes start rolling once more, dripping down against the CrossFab garment as her breath shuddered out, "I just...lost someone...two someones...a-a-and I wanted to see them because...I can't...they're...I just want to s-see them again."

Her whole body trembled with the light rock of her sobs, her voice still so quiet in instinct to 'not take up too much space', though, again, only a few moments of vulnerability before her full chest hitched, and, though one arm stayed coiled like a snake at Sam's back, her face pulled away and she sniffled, her other hand turning to a fist to rub down against the shirt, "Fuck, I'm leaving puddles on your shirt," She started to press down, trying to scrub the shirt dry, even though, logically, that's not how that worked, "S-Sorry about that...I'm...I'm a mess...but, y-you can see that already huh?"

 

[MouseNoises]

"Yeah, I'm sure there's a lot of folks. . . other than me, I mean I just met you and you seem worth somethin' better than that," she didn't want to repeat the act herself after all. It seemed so surreal and taboo to talk about out loud. "but like, for you too?" it shouldn't have been all about the guilt thing, living for other people didn't seem like the way to do things. Better of doin' it for you, she thought. "you seem like you'd make for someone worth havin' around. . . y'know?" She didn't know what else to say. Sam didn't know Alyssa yet, "I bet you're funny. . . and nice too," echoing that sentiment, "You're cute,"

With Alyssa crawling up into her firm lap she instantly wrapped her arms around her, around her shoulders, linking at her back in a hug she didn't plan to withdraw from any time soon. Truth was she did need this, maybe not as much as Alyssa but enough to feel it in her heart of hearts, enough to feel like nobody may ever hug her again if she didn't get it here and now. Not because she had a death wish, more because she had genuine concern she'd die alone and sexless, an unfounded insecurity but one that constantly loomed in the butt of her mind. "I did, y'ah." Sam affirmed as they wrapped each other up in the cool night.

What a strange turn, she didn't even wonder if her joint was OK, this was a far more palpable high. A cute girl wrapped up in her lap, needing her, it was fucked up maybe but it made her feel whole too so she indulged in that. She wanted to nestle into her neck much like Alyssa had chosen to confide in hers but before she could the tears started to flow again, she could see she was still tortured and soon she'd hear about it.

This too looked like a subject she was rather privileged on, she remembered relatives dying when she was younger and being too naïve or maybe too hollow, undeveloped to really care - she was a preoccupied child. Little had changed but she was lucky, she made it through college without losing any friends like that, only to petty squabbles or drifting other directions, in years since more did drift and maybe some died but she couldn't draw a single name from her hat she was truly set to dissarray by. She wasn't sure if that was callous or just the moment, maybe, like she thought though - luck, privilege.

"I'm Sorry Alyssa," earnest but she couldn't add, understanding even if she empathized with all her heart, even if she wanted to make it better. Samantha squeezed a bit tighter, her biceps tightening on her petite shoulders, she wanted to say something. . . make it good, make it better, smooth it - but she knew that wasn't really how grief worked too. While she hadn't lost her parents she grieved the death of their relationship some time ago, she'd never be what they expected - she wouldn't so much as try. . . She wanted to say something, yeah, but then puddles.

"Hay-hay-hay, you're fine." Samantha assured her, gulping she turned her sleeve inside out around a balled up fist (mostly to get the softer insides of her sweater around her thumb) She wanted to brush away those tears. "You can let them all out if you need to, I'm here for that too." which was to say she wasn't going anywhere, horror show, messy, emotional, desperate, Sam was resolute in her choice to stick through this night with Alyssa, maybe more. . . she wanted her to be okay.

. . . it was a lot to take on, try as she might though she was there for her, here for that. "I've never really lost anyone super close to me. . . not like that, I'm really sorry, I bet it really hurts. But I'm sure like. . . you gotta do what's right by them now," she second guessed herself briefly, it wasn't fair to tell someone what they had to do, "I don't know, I just. . . suicide isn't the answer, I know that." there it was, that dirty word - right out in the open. It stung the back of her throat like a gulp of taboo.

 

[Princess-In-Silk-Chains]

Alyssa exhaled through her nose at 'but like, for you too?' The very notion of staying for herself actually genuinely laughable, purely wishful thinking...though, she also knew, that was the ideal way to think of things.

Her eyes squinted, trying to swim through the wet-cement that was her thoughts, beginning to get closer to the edge of sober-ness, or, diet-sober, maybe.
Did Sam call her cute?

As Sam's balled-up-sleeve-fist pressed into her soft high-cheeks her eyes closed, and there was this feeling again, like her heart was in the muscle-bound woman's hand, giving it a little caress, trying to wipe away the flecks of dishonesty towards her own feelings. It just...it felt like this was one of the most intimate moments she had experienced with a person, in or out of the bedroom. Felt weird that is was with a person whose last name she didn't even learn yet.

Another deep sniff, trying to withdraw her continued sobbing upon Sam's ginger wiping, a tiny continuous nod of her manic-panic head t what was being said to her, agreeing and already heading towards calming down, until the word 'suicide' struck her like a semi-truck and yet again, a hitch in her chest and her teeth clenched, the statement swirling over her head like a cloud before it became a tornado.

There was this thread being tensed, the dam earlier had broken, but there was this semblance of decorum that kept trying to wash her back to the shallows before she got too far, but now that neither of them were denying the elephant in the room (or, on the roof) she heard herself ask;

Couldn't she just let go? Just this once...just let it out and allow someone too see see her? Sam was giving her consent, she almost seemed to want to be that person who witnessed her depressive musings, which, someone wanting to be there...fuck, she'd only seen people offer consoling in passing statements or polite-but-probably-untrue offers.

It never felt this genuine before.

At least for tonight...maybe she could just...'be', whatever that meant.

"You're right.." Her voice cracked and she collapsed back against Sam, face against her collar bone this time, her hands clawing into the fabric at the center of her back as she pressed her voluptuous self down against her athletic build, her chest right beneath hers, smothering, huffing for a few seconds and just, feeling remorse about the tear stains but also just...just for a while, allowing herself to simply, exist, even if in a woeful way, "You're right, you're right."

Only about 30 seconds of true unhindered sobbing, and she began to come back down, but it felt less forceful, just a few moments of realness was enough to give her deprived self some reprieve that resulted in her tendons going lax, and the hug becoming more about holding and less about squeezing on for dear life.
Her head lifted back, glasses a bit smudged by her intense nuzzling, but her eyes seemed to have more of less emptied their sorrow, just some left over drips streaking.
It felt like her grief was finally given the wheel, and gently, it just started orchestrating. Encouraging, just say whatever she wanted. She gulped, turning her head until her ear was pressed over Sam's chest, hearing her pulse, it being a soothing drum beat, "Even if I did see them...My mom especially...she's be so upset with me...If that's how I finally g-got to see her again..." a quake of a sigh before she turned again, her chin perched at the center of her collar, able to look up at her without pausing the embrace, "I mean, the last conversation we had was...was me promising to take care of myself," Her lower lip quaked again, but the desire to cry was less overpowering, a bit of levity nimbly instead of forcefully entered her tone, "To be fair, it was because I was working on a day I had a fever, but, I work from home so, it didn't feel like a good enough reason to stay in bed...mom called, was upset because she was-was a nurse...made me promise not to do that again, she said 'I need to know, c-cus I'm your mom, I need to know when I'm gone you'll be ok'...that ended up being our last conversation, ironically enough," Her lower lip jutted out remorsefully, "I...something so impactful to hang onto...and yet...I almost broke my promise..." The guilt was a viper bite as she winced and admitted, "It's just getting so hard to keep now-a-days."

She let herself sit in the sadness with Sam, She had never told anyone that story, or the promise, feeling like it would be even harder to maintain if others knew, and she'd never just sat in the pain before...who knew it would be...slightly cathartic.

"Not sure...what could help me stay for me..." Her warm strawberry and vanilla face nuzzled down into Sam's chest again, her loooow grasp on personal space still too lax to realize the length that their touches were going, her body just so in need to savor what it was like to be held in this specific way, "You came out here to smoke? Do you do that often?" She didn't give much time for answer as this rambling led to a more logical reason for the sudden inquiry, chuckling, "if I could get a hug like this even once a week...I think that'd be enough to make me want to live."

There was...sincerity there, but then she realized with a couple more breaths, maybe too much, and she lifted her head entirely off Sam's comfy strong torso, expression even, "ah, you know what, that isn't funny," It had been a bit since her last sip by this point, and though it wasn't as though she were out of the fog, she at least wasn't knee deep in the drunken-swamp anymore, "That is like, noooot a healthy thing to-to say to someone..sh-shouldn't even imply that would be anyones responsibility b-but my own," She glanced away, coughing before a mousy smile was lifted towards the green-eyed brunette, "I...that was just a silly way to change the subject and, uh, say you give good hugs...I always had the theory that people who were muscular gave good hugs, just seemed, reasonable, I just...but there are probably better ways to say so then offering a means to stop...s-severe self harm." She wasn't as brave as Sam to call her act what it was, even though the word had been aired out and not denied, "I've just...never been great at dark humor...normal humor though?...well, that's also, debatable." Her laugh was awkward, but at least this time, it was less about trying to hide something else.

 

[MouseNoises]

She was right, she was right.

That felt affirming, she was glad to hear it. This was a difficult road to walk, talking someone off a ledge. While she had Alyssa in her arms, goodness, did she ever. . . it felt so fleeting, like if she let her go she may evaporate off that edge, the mental image of her slipping away like a plaque in her mind, she couldn't escape it. -it didn't matter that they were virtually complete strangers in this city, they'd shared something incredibly intimate now, even if they hadn't Sam was too morally stood in her ways to let someone do that while she was in a position to stop it. Like it or not, she was growing an obligation to Alyssa, codependency was a bitch of a drug, started with a bump but like any addiction and soon enough she'd be hooked.

. . . who didn't like to feel needed?

"I know, let it out. . ." her hum gentle and accepting even though her insides were bristling with awkward and uncomfortable. She hated to hear her cry so hard her insides were rattling, sobbing her guts out in her arms. She tried to hold them together, lest a rib fling off her cage or her shoulder rattle off in the violent sobbing. The thirty some odd seconds of intense release were some of the hardest moments of Sam's recent memory, she grit her jaw the entire time. It took real effort not to let her go and back away but she'd made a promise to Alyssa, she invited this, it was her duty to hold on tight. Normally she wouldn't mind hugging such a cute, buxom girl in her embrace. There was nothing normal about this night. "Let it out. . ."

"Even if I did see them...My mom especially...she's be so upset with me...If that's how I finally g-got to see her again..."

Sam understood that sentiment to a degree, vicariously. Again, she'd been blessed with never losing anyone particularly close to her at this time in her life but mechanically it made perfect sense. It was easier now though, listening, even if she was pained in her words, even if she shuddered on her sobs now and again, her warm face against her chest, so close she could likely feel her heart beating faster and faster as she cradled her in her lap. She didn't know what to say, she didn't have the answer to 'what would make it easier,' what would make it worth it. They all needed to decide that for themselves, didn't they? She didn't even really know herself some days. Maybe just the drive to lift a bit more, a few more times, she didn't know. . . a sickly sort of feeling starting welling in her chest momentarily as she realized how out of her depth she was.

"Not sure...what could help me stay for me..."

The thought was right on que, she was trying not to be swallowed whole by the girl's sorrow inside her arms. Gulping she tried not to let the dower inside her creep to her face. She had to be strong for Alyssa, this was her time to be weak, be vulnerable. Samantha had to be impenetrable, steely in her resolve. Sniffing a little she put on her best smile and looked down at her chesty new friend, shifting her in her arms to a more comfortable position for her but truthfully it was no problem to lift and manipulate Alyssa to a comfortable sort of cradle between her thick arms and solid lap.

"if I could get a hug like this even once a week...I think that'd be enough to make me want to live."

She couldn't help but chuckle, a mirthful, earnest amusement came from that. Even if it wasn't funny, even if Alyssa took it back as quickly as she mentioned it in the first place. Maybe it was funny because she was thinking the same damn thing, Sam wasn't circling the drain like Alyssa, she didn't have some horrible tragedy to blame for her morose sorta, depressing malaise of life, she filled her time with trying to get better and that kept her from the lowest of lows like this but. . . well, a weekly standing hug with a pintsized bombshell on the roof sounded like, it sounded more than nice. Another mirthful chuckle came at the comment about more muscular people giving better hugs "Really? Because I always thought cute little things like you made for the best hugs." teasing more than anything, full of dry wit or maybe wry charm.

"Sorry, my own bad joke. . ." Gulping she offered a more passive, almost thoughtful expression, "I do come up here often though, not always to smoke. . . just sometimes to look up, or read, or. . . be quiet. Smoking just kinda comes hand in hand with that." Samantha mused, "It's kinda my special spot I guess. Y'know? To get away?" From what exactly, she wasn't sure. . . life she supposed, just differently than Alyssa intended, "But there's always room enough for two." inviting her with a curl of her lips, she was willing to make this their special spot.

"You give good hugs too Alyssa," close to low on breath, close to breathless indeed - feeling some sort of charmed by the imperfect little pixie so close she could practically taste her very being on tip of her tongue "Call me selfish, but I could use more than a weekly fix." affirming the sentiment with a gentle squeeze. It was her way of admitting just how touch starved she was, that this wasn't just for Alyssa, that it was for her too, that she needed to connect with someone as well, maybe not so desperately but then heart ache was relative.

 

[Princess-In-Silk-Chains]

A more compelling ripple of merriment rose the back of Alyssa's neck hairs as a little jib of a compliment was returned, mutual enjoyment of embrace and 'bad' sense of humor traded like collectable cards, and for a split moment as sanity was filtering out the vodka slowly but surely, her smile was that true squiggle line, a little tilt of her crimson head as the air of...mutual appreciation for ones looks became more and more apparent. It seemed like the two were flirting with the idea of flirting, dancing around being to forward, well, too verbally forward at least, and stopping mostly because, well, Alyssa had literally only been able to stop full blown crying about 40 seconds ago, so, not exactly the easiest place to speak of mushy musings without either of them either looking like an ass or maybe kind of psychotic.

She settled back down, play dough like form against stony structure, debating on just how macabre she was willing to go, because, she took the notion back so quickly, like it barely had time to form before she was stuttering to stuff it back into her own mouth, but then Sam offered a routine in kind. It felt a bit morbid, the suggestions of meeting up on the roof near-nightly for stolen hugs in order to help keep each other going... but it also sounded so god-damn appealing to.
Even though she had been resistant to the help of a mental-health-professional, a part of that reason, other then the anxiety at being a burden, was that...it hurt her pride a bit.

Alyssa was the happy-go-lucky-therapist friend, never had her own problems, always there to listen to the sadness of others, giving the best advice as told by her loved ones...the idea that she didn't already know what best to do, another nick at her secret ego. Being nerdy and awkward, and debatably, a bit of a spazz, was the only flaws she really allowed, and she found they were more perks than anything else in the eyes of others, but that seemed to be the extent she would allow her defects to go.
She had a good at-home job to help her social anxiety, her apartment was TINY, but well kept and pretty, she had a great support system that even though she never opened up to them, ultimately she knew that if she really tried they would...likely be receptive, she almost pretty much never drank outside of this night, she didn't smoke, she obeyed traffic laws, even refusing to jaw-walk.
She did everything to be well behaved even this far into adult hood...maybe, this could be something where...it didn't have to be picture perfect, or for the sake of being 'the right option'.

Just, something a little, less than ideal, even unhealthy in a way...as long as it felt good.

The little squeeze and somberness in Sam's voice, the owl-eyed near-jumper had finally reached that first step towards sober, and this allowed her more natural observational skills to kick in.
Sam sounded sad to...she sounded plenty sad.
It reminded her a bit of her bestie Leslie, she would open up eventually each time, but she always seemed to hesitate for the first 10 or so minutes, because her reasoning was legit diagnosed depression, so even if things were perfect in her life, she could feel profound misery, and that guilt at being upset over 'nothing' was something Alyssa needed to chip against before coaxing out that pain for her to help carry for her friend, which, she generally happily did.
Strangely, being able to more noticeably comprehend this fellow forlorn soul, made this moment more comfortable, bearing her own soul, while cathartic in this after glow, was still ick-ily uncomfortable for her, but, witnessing the woe of someone else and getting to help?

She actually felt more at home in that scenario.

"Well," Her pulse felt a little fast as she understood the full position she had finagled herself in, finally. Alyssa had squirmed her little way between Sam's legs, sitting on the ground in front of her lap and then smushed chest to chest, with arms around each other, the intimacy being less and less easy to view platonically the more 'awake' Alyssa was becoming, "I mean, umm," Her blush was turning from a dusty drunk pink to a flustered cherry red, "if you're down for it, uhh, then, I take it back, I-It wasn't a joke," She turned her face to laugh into the crook of Sam's neck, though she was acutely aware that her breath was brushing right against her skin, lips almost on the side of her throat, and, ok, nope, getting too 'aware of the world' ah, uh-oh, feelings, feelings, "It would be nice to repay you for the whole...well, I feel like I need more action based appreciation because, like, just saying, 'Hey, thanks for keeping me from jumping off the roof,' " She chuckled weakly to dull the sting, "thaaaat, just feels like, uh, not enough, heh," She was...her brain was working a lot more now, mostly just a film over her vision, but her cognitive function felt more or less clear...but...even then, the hug stayed...so comfy. She pressed down a bit more purposefully, though this time she was semi-aware of her orbed-puberty-blessings nuzzling against a toned abdomen with a more modest bust being allowed to use her 'shelf' as a perch, she wasn't trying to seduce or anything, not actively at least, she was just aware of her body again? But continued to not allow it to stop her as her snowy hands pressed against Sam's shoulder blades and, expertly, she tried to 'shift the tone' of the embrace, pulling the woman into her, "So, you really really could also use a hug then?" Implying she had previously thought that was just cover to comfort the crimson-haired-wreck, "you said...'I get sad too sometimes...and I try to tell myself I'm better off around' ?"

Alyssa's attentive mannerisms seemed to be slowly pushing aside her own somberness, and to be fair, the catharsis of balling-in-someones-safe-arms certainly made it feel less like a strain than ever before as she used her smushing chest to lean up, blue-and-gold lens-covered eyes finding lush orbs, "Misery recognizes misery," They had already been so heckin bold with breaking the touch barrier so far, and it would be nice to keep avoiding her own bruised-ego with consideration towards someone else, so with a subtle gulp in her porcelain throat, her left hand drifted up and a couple fingers brushed back some of those curly short brunette tresses atop her head, finger nails brushing against the front of her scalp just at the crest of her brow, "You're the only one who knows my biggest secret, I'd love to return the accidental favor, if maybe that would begin to show my thanks...Not like I'd even be in a place to judge, let alone want to, which-which I wouldn't...I'm not the judgmental type."

 

[MouseNoises]

It didn't feel right, not under these circumstances - she didn't want to push her luck. . . they were making it so hard though. She wanted to be more than her savior from the ledge in that moment, she wanted to be her everything. Alyssa was beyond cute, exactly her type, her manic pixie stylings, her bad jokes, her chest, a pang of guilt striking her in that moment as she thought about it so close to hers, her rump no different, she could feel her body so close, so close she could practically squish her like a blow pop or. . . well, other things. Not that she was a goon or a perv, just, Alyssa was. . . perfect, in her own fucked up way, and she in her own fucked up way wanted her.

From her trendy (she thought) owl glasses with the thin metallic rims to her cherry blotched face and bright funky hair, she really was adorable - or, worth adoration at least, adorable may have crossed a line into a realm she wasn't necessarily keen on entering. Whatever the case, it was impossible not to attach feelings if lust to her, under any other circumstance Samantha would be a blundering mess of awkward compliments and unsure blurts about, well. . . she'd never done well with girls she was attracted to really but in this moment it seemed easy enough to fake it, probably because she wasn't specifically trying to work anything out of Alyssa.

. . . her failed dating attempts often came from her inability to connect with people through text or phone, it felt awkward and forced and she had so much time to consider that she often didn't even feel genuine by the time the perfectly crafted response came to mind and shot across the ether to them, bounced around in cyberspace. She just didn't. . . it wasn't her thing is all, then meeting seemed worse, what if she couldn't compete with the vision of herself she'd created, what if she couldn't compete with her hair or jacket or bike or whatever she put in front of her less than. . . that was just it, less than, in almost every intimate situation since that one, she felt less than, all the piercings and cool garments, the wicked motorcycles and aggressive workout routines couldn't save her from her own less than OK self.

Maybe it was shitty, maybe it was something different, maybe it was the fact she'd met her at her lowest but she didn't feel like being anyone but a genuine support to Alyssa was necessary, she didn't have her guard up. . . not like that, it was hard to explain, her budding feelings even harder to grapple with them presently.

Alyssa was laughing into her neck, hot breath rippling over taut skin. . . she wanted to feel that all day, the soft, warmth but ultimate weight of her breasts just above her own, fucking hell. Under any other circumstance it would be impossible not to proceed to another base so to speak. She could smell her tears and her shampoo, smell her skin, feel it. Then she seemed to double down. "Ye-yeah," she shuddered in response, she really did need a hug and she had said those exact words, ". . . not like, I just. Hff," my parents hate me, my brothers kinda make it alright, I'm lonely and life just isn't working out how I had hoped. It was hardly the shining gold 'date me' recommendation but they were both being honest.

Misery recognizes misery. . .

So she didn't have to say it, not out loud. Her own slate eyes stared back into the lensed beauty's, still puffy and pink from crying, the rest of her was puffy and pink really - she just radiated that warm pink vibe.

One of her eyes lidded, flinching slightly as a hand climbed up toward her brow and adjusted a few stray curls of brunette. If she let it get long enough, her hair got tangled and curly by itself, evidenced by what happened when she washed out the product, leaving her with a strange sort of messy shaghawk. It felt nice, felt intimate, it felt like maybe her thoughts while inappropriate and such. . . less so.

"You don't owe me anything kiddo," the petname seeming to stick well enough, her slate eyes softening to earnest acceptance, they were placid though deep thought hid behind. Her eyes were on her kissable lips, there was something she wanted to do, say, it caught in the air, a tense pregnant moment she couldn't quite get through. She wouldn't dare say she owed her a kiss, "Mmmng," a soft hum of a pleased sound escaped, something close to a groan, "Just stick around a while, that'd be good enough for me." in all ways, here, in this moment - in the world, a little longer, "It's not your turn," barely breathing down on the face so close to her own she could see the outline of her reflection in glassy lenses, she could see the same loneliness, would it be so wrong? With the touch barrier long since broken though she took what agency she had over the moment and reached.

Her hand took hold of Alyssa's wrist, gentle enough to the touch though her fingers and palm were a might calloused from activity. She carefully lowered the hand to her cheek, letting fingers brush over her brow and temple, "Can you do that for me?"

 

[Princess-In-Silk-Chains]

Cyanic eyes dropped down meekly, seeing through her like she was a window it felt like, Alyssa couldn't be sure if the 'don't owe me' comment was more just a natural thing or if Sam could really so clearly see that a part of the switch up was the troubled-girl's way of emotional-avoidance, but, she had been pretty sincere after all the sobbing, so, it probably wasn't the latter? Right?

Or had she become that transparent?

She felt further distracted as the nickname persisted, she remembered a few times some guy, or a few dudes, had used the term 'kiddo', it always sounded so fucking condescending, but from out of that boxy jaw now, it just made her feel all melty~

It felt like she didn't want Sam to refer to her as almost anything else...though...no...her own name coming from this sculpted person's lips...that, that was also nice.

As if to exemplify the impish moniker, her ruby cheeks billowed a little and her lower lip jutted forward as she was informed it 'wasn't her turn', being a bit petulant at her bid for assistance was denied. Her people-pleasing instincts jounced about anxiously, usually this would be the moment she would assist or assure that she wanted to listen, but, some people, when you pushed them, they would actually just clam up more...feel pressured instead of validated, arguable that's what sober Alyssa was want to do, and, they didn't really know each other, Sam sort of knew Alyssa more than anyone else in her life by 5 seconds of depressive happenstance...but Alyssa didn't know Sam..she was not granted entry to the same deep seated internal vault.

Who was she to pry?

Other than she wanted to, other than she was feeling selfish and she wanted to balance out their vulnerability to a more even distribution, she didn't have much of a foot hold to be insisting, and she felt all the more inclined against it as that light over-worked palm clutched her wrist, fitting like a glove within her grasp, and then guided down so Alyssa could cup her cheek.
How was she supposed to ever say no to this face?

What was she supposed to be? A god with endless will power???

Alyssa's expression pursed and frowned, there being a little ball of discomfort deep at her belly, it being so odd to not be in the the 'comforting' role, despite how much it could go from a privilege to an obligation in her everyday life, drained from never getting to be on the other side, but as her cool vanilla hand held that pale-but-sliiiightly-less-so-cheek, she couldn't really see a reality where she was likely to tell this woman no to a direct request, feeling indebted to her with how self-less she was insisting to be, how caring she was towards a clearly-slightly-disturbed individual, "Yea, I can do that," She whispered and relented, and, by nature rather than foresight, her face leaned forward, the tip of her nose poking the end of Sam's, and her view fell to her mouth as well, and with how soothing the low-key-herculean was able to touch every other way, Alyssa wondered if that sort of exchange would be just as stimulating...if not more so, repeating herself as it felt like their mouths had a magnetic pull towards each other, "..I can do that..."

No, quit it.
What was she thinking?
Ugh, his had sort of happened before. Freshly after the funeral, a part of her wanting to feel alive to escape the thoughts of death, urges she wished to sate...luckily it was only one clumsy casual lay and that inclination was not something she ever indulged in further after that...and surely...surely it was just that bubbling up again...hyper sexuality could often be a symptom of grief...she swore she heard that before.

Alyssa quickly turned her head and yet again, her face made a home at the crook of Sam's neck, looping her arms around her boulder-shoulders, her body suddenly on fire and a small subtle shift in her hips, trying to snuff out the little flicks of electricity zipping around down there, that was now suggesting she indulge in a whole new reckless sort of behavior. She swallowed, this time not caring that it was kind of loud, as she tried to actively get her mind to stay...well, she needed to be real with herself, a 'platonic' mindset with this person was no longer an option, but at least she needed to not be straight up perverted, so she chuckled, but it sounded a touch closer to trembling gasps, "Though, seriously, ummm, the cozy meter, is, heh, off the...off the charts, so we should probably be careful, feel like we stay like this for too long, we might fall asleep up here, er, well I might, I won't speak for you, maybe you have insomnia or something, I dunno."

Ah, rambling, yes good, that wouldn't set off any alarm bells or make this more graceless than it already was...no no noooo, she was clearly totally chill and fine.

Alyssa was suddenly missing the lack of inhibitions from moments before, never thinking in her life she would crave to be back in a vodka-stupor. Sure it led her to a ledge but it was starting to seem less embarrassing than this moment.

...Well...no it wasn't, not by a long shot, but still! It was just, everything seemed so vivid all of a sudden.

Going from warm to sweltering hot, regardless of the chilly weather.

 

[MouseNoises]

so we should probably be careful, She hit the nail on the head. It was more than just comfy between them, she could feel the heat raising from her partner in crime - much the same she could feel the heat welling up inside her, little pangs of this and that, spicy, arousing drugs wooshing through her poor system, she needed to smoke some of that joint or risk going level twelve clinger, or worse, face hugger.

To top it off she was rambling now, talking about falling asleep in her arms and rambling. It seemed Alyssa was nearly as hopeless as she was at this point. She wanted to kiss her. She wanted to dip her down from the crook of her neck till she was parallel with the rooftop and kiss her till she forgot all about this, about the edge, about her loneliness, about being comfy or sleepy or sorrowful - if only a kiss could do that all. . .

What better location for their first kiss? -as if there might be more. The rooftop without a soul in sight, the glow of the street below reflecting on the clouds above keeping them in some sort of perpetual city scape twilight or radiating oranges and whites. She was beautiful in this light, not cute, not just. "Hay. . . shh-shh-shh," she reached up and pulled some stray hair out of the other's face, not that she could see it parse, she just wanted an excuse to touch her, to touch her cheek, to brush passed the salt stains to soft bunches of brilliant pink/red.

"Thank you," Sam would ultimately add, not for sh'ing but rather for agreeing to her condition. "-and no, I'm. . . heheh, I'm insomnia free,"

But I'm only human and what happens next cannot be helped.

A thousand ways to ask, to try, to hope to make it appropriate to want to take things to the next step came but instead she broke the silence with "So, ever smoked before?" She smirked.

"Want to?" it wasn't that she wanted to make her more pliable, or even that she wanted to let her go. . . just that if she didn't do something she was gunna, there was no helping it.

. . . Alyssa had to be kissed, but if she was going to be it wouldn't be right this second, probably not even tonight. It hardly seemed fair, as much as she wanted that.

 

[Princess-In-Silk-Chains]

The most notable thing about being told so gently to 'shhh', was that it was oddly soothing, and low-key...sent a couple pin-pricks up her spine, or perhaps just something about Sam's voice, in general, made her uncharacteristcally pliable, she never really had a instinctual inclination to just, do as someone suggested, well, no, she did, but that was in the name of being helpful, and sometimes she even had to go against it if there was a more 'right' or 'good person' thing to do, like insisting someone come over when they were upset (even if Alyssa was drained) or cancelling plans she looked forward to when she could tell the other wasn't really up for it, but just, the fluffy-haired woman just, it made it so hard to do anything but concede.

Her eyes briefly fluttered close as she felt those digits brush through her carmine hair, and, quite literally, she didn't even think she had so much as a post coital cuddle that was as profound as this.

Not super sure if that just meant she was sad...more sad, or if that was a true compliment to Sam's pleasantness.

The inquiry though, had her fae-owl face floating back up out of it's hoodie-nest and she blink-blinked like an innocent bunny, processing the offer.

She had never done drugs, never even tobacco, never really had much of a rebellious phase...well, perhaps the ink work hidden beneath her clothes could count, but that was about sentimentality more than anything else. She sucked in a breath, chest swelling, and the need to be reckless in a none-sad-sack way helped to play her vocal cords, "Yea...y-yea, I'd be down to try it, sure." As they shifted, the offer taken, she smiled sheepishly, going into question mode what with the lack of knowledge under her belt, "Umm, is there...is there a certain way you're supposed to do it?" Obviously inhale it...Alyssa let her moonlight fingers tap-tap-tap against one another before her chest with innocent curiosity, "I just mean like, I've heard you are supposed to cough right? Like? If you aren't coughing you're not doing it right because the cough...means something for the...inhilation???"

There was a pause and Alyssa tried to lean into what was clearly already quite obvious, usually that being her go to when it came to her nerdiness in all its forms and fashions, "I just, feel like I should know, ya know, because I'm pretty," She made an X in front of her chin using her forearms, a relic of her childhood during 'drugs bad' week (or whatever it was called), "Straight edge~ So, naturally, I'm not sure," She held the X for two seconds before clapping her hands softly and waiting for further instruction, "But, that maybe, goes without saying, I'll just," She pinched her index finger and thumb at the corner of her lips and then dragged it into a line till the digits stopped at the other corner, in a 'zip it' motion, "Hush for like 5 seconds, so you can, uh, heh, actually answer."

Nerves were alive and well in this sober bespectacled woman, and putting something else in her system to dim the bashfulness sounded mighty great right about now.

 

[MouseNoises]

With the spectacled girl spritely shifting off her lap Sam smiled gently, she wasn't exactly happy to let her go - there was a certain part of her that went with Alyssa as she stood, a certain part of her that wanted to remain wrapped around her like a coat till. . . well, forever. She watched it ghost off with Alyssa toward her side of the married apartments fading off into nothing. Samantha crossed the gravel roof and gingerly hopped back up onto her own, taking the ledge between the two (maybe 2-3 feet tall,) with ease. Hard Core Parquor wasn't exactly a part time gig but CrossFab kept her active enough that she was practically built for this. . . hoping small ledges with grace. Actively telling herself not to yep! with glee when she made the jump she hurried over to where she'd dropped her joint and blew off some dust from the roll.

Back just in time to catch the Straight edge cross Sam blinked once or twice and cocked her head before bursting into laughter, genuine, mirthy, gut-laughter that rumbled her tummy and made her throat vibrate with warmth. "Whatever that was, don't ever do it again." She laughed, teasing more than anything, she wasn't a straight edge kid growing up, not that she really did drugs a lot either but one of her brothers had let her experiment with him and his older friends because she was 'chill,' it meant she couldn't be part of the sober club and that she really didn't want to be part of the 'younger stoner' club either. She remained a wallflower despite her friendly introduction to pot and lighter party drugs.

"They say, if you don't cough you don't get off. . . it's not true, there's no real secret. Just inhale, hold it for a sec if you can, take a breath and ledd'er'go. It just makes you feel kinda warm and fuzzy, maybe a bit chilled if it works." She mused before retrieving a lighter from her pouch.

The small cone lit to life, bits of burning paper scattering in the wind. A thoughtful expression crossed her features as she "Smmmfff. . . oooauwh," inhaled a long toke, held it for a sec, then exhaled, nodding to her friend like do this, after a few more slow tokes she coughed a few chucks and presented the joint to Alyssa, a smoke that smelled somewhere between flowers, expensive cheese and a blanket of far off skunk spray on the highway billowing from the burnt end.

"Here. . . y'know, if you wanna join the cool kids club." be gay, do crime.

 

[Princess-In-Silk-Chains]

Alyssa's head hunched down, quickly hiding her pouty face at the instruction that her dorky meter might have gone over the line a tad too much, nodding sheepishly as she hid behind the red curtain of her hair, though that chorus of laughter certainly softened the blow to her sensibilities, embarrassing, but, mortification didn't hold quite the same sting when proceeded or followed by that from-the-belly reels of mirth from her brunette companion.

"Right, check, uh, heh, taking it out of the ol mental roster." Holy shit the drugs could not be put faster in her system as far as she was concerned. She bit down on her tongue to the point she actually winced, her head giving a single tiny shake of; ow, too much, she she could just, hush, like she said she would.

Ah, so it was just a rumor one needed to cough, that was good, though, she expected she likely would be either way. She watched intently as Sam demonstrated for her, owl-eyes finally coming out from beneath the cover of amaranth fringe, though her silent watchful gaze was more like a student observing a lecture, but that was genuinely interested in the criteria at least.

She tried and failed to keep her nose from scrunching up at the scent, the skunk part really cutting through everything else, but managed to 'fix her face' by the time the smoking implement was held out towards her. Alyssa's hand reach out, took it gently with index and thumb fingers, and stared at it as the reality wound and wound;

This would be her first real step into anything illicit, and it was about to be done on a whim with a, very friendly, stranger...though...actually, 'stranger' didn't feel right anymore, it hadn't even been a full hour yet, but just, strangers wasn't what they were, they couldn't be what with all the vulnerability, only in a technical sense.

Her hesitant blue-yellow eyes took a glance to those emerald irises and she felt...determined.

"Welp...be gay, do crime." She muttered beneath her breath before she brought it to her lips, inhaled, and immediately felt a burning sensation in her lungs.

Her eyes closed tight and her head shook left and right as she held her breath, reacting much like a person on they're 21st birthday taking their first big sip of hard liquor as she fought this foreign unpleasant feeling, not even having a history with tobacco as a screen to help her transition.
She wasn't able to hold her breath nearly as long before she began to hack it out, her cloudy breath 'puff puffing' unceremoniously like someone trying to do smoke-signals, but with their mouth, her eyes watering as she opened them back up and tried to cover her shame whether Sam reacted or not, "I'm-" Another cough, "I'm fine," couple hacks accompanied by pumping her own right fist over her collar bone with a 'thwack thwack', "Ah, that's, so violent for some reason," Though, feeling like maybe continuing would somehow be better, with a deep inhale through her nose, she curled her lips around the moistened tip and took another toke, though this one was slightly less painful, it had it's bits of squinting eyes and pained croaking, and then, thaaaat seemed like enough for now as she cleared her throat and offered it back, "I assume it gets better over time? H-How long until a person starts to 'feel it' usually? In your experience?" Being a touch away from the woman felt...uncomfy, more uncomfy then a lot of the rest of the night, which was really really weird if one though about it..
And Alyssa didn't feel like 'thinking' much, so, on adrenaline or riding the take-risks-roller-coaster of the night, for better or worse, during the hand-off Alyssa's body sort of followed the withdraw of the joint, her blue-leggings-legs graaaadually coasting closer to her taller friend, attempting to seem nonchalant as her hip gingerly bumped against Sam's side, trying to make it seem like she was standing close by so the continuing hand off would be easier, or for warmth, or well, she just didn't explain herself and reacted was the vibe.

Though, Alyssa wasn't the most subtle woman, and with her bespectacled eyes doing that school girlish 'look at your crush's face, look down at the ground, look at their face, no down at the ground' thing, her little guise was likely as opaque as professionally polished window-pane.

 

[MouseNoises]

She practically stole the words straight from her mouth, said 'em before she could but she'd thought it. A warm little tingle inside flicked, "Right?" giving her a little wink on the 'be gay,' honestly, Alyssa hadn't exactly exhibited super gay vibes off her like a flag, not at first, but there was a vibe and she was on it. . . and besides, back on the roof, they'd gotten closer and she felt something, Alyssa felt it too - she was sure of that.

"Oh heck, look at you go." there was a small chuckle she couldn't help but heave out for her new friend who was puffing out plume after plume of stinkin' smoke. That good stink, one that Sam had grown so fond of even when she was driving down the highway and could smell a skunk far off, fields away it gave her a strange comfort, not a craving so much as a fond reminder of her flowered friend back home on her roof. It seemed for a newb Alyssa was willing to go all out, it wasn't a small little huff or puff she was really going for it, Sam admired that, it was beyond cute the way her eyes were watering up and her face scrunching. "Yeah, you're fine." Sam hummed, the double entendre not lost on her but not entirely intentional.

"Like, fine. . . uh, y'know, heh." smooth as fuck Sam, good for you.

"Oh, not long, like - your mouth should start feelin' kinda fuzzy and you just get warmer I guess? Relaxed? -over a couple minutes. . . I dunno, it's been like, fuck, a long time since I took a break so," there was an awkward moment for her where their fingers touched, she wrapped her hand over Alyssa's and took the joint back as gently as she could but for whatever reason she couldn't help but trail her fingers over hers. . . they were slender, warm, soft, but she already knew that from before. Her whole being was soft, warm, delicate and more, so much more.

Once the joint returned to her lips she noted Alyssa getting closer, she was quick to answer by adjusting so they could be touching comfortably - a little more anyway, so it didn't feel like they had to lean one way or another to be close - they just were. From the side of her glance she could catch Alyssa looking at her. Absently she turned her head to look back and gave few blinks before blowing smoke the opposite direction. She was crushing, it was obvious as anything, Alyssa, gay or not, was giving her those eyes. . . gulp. fuck. gulp.

Placing a hand over her lips she gave a few chucks of a cough before looking down with subtle hesitation.

"Y'know Alyssa, it feels really kinda crummy to want t'ch. . ." there was no smooth way to admit this or say it or just push through it. "I really think you're cute, and funny - sometimes not funny too. I wanna kiss you, but it doesn't feel like the time or place." Her hand reached for the back of her neck, her arm flexing under her radiant red hoodie, she could feel the heat of embarrassment for being so open about it on her skin but she was smiling like an idiot anyway. Sam had been turned down once. -oh no, it's not like that. . . trying to kiss a girl, mortifying, BEYOND mortifying, it had been more than a decade and she still sat up at night and felt that same sting of rejection and embarrassment even now, she could transport herself back to senior year under the bleachers playing truth or dare with Stacy Lipinski. She didn't do much without verbal consent, it just wasn't her. "I mean, I didn't get you high to make out with y'ah." adding to the awkwardness with some sort of defense, she looked off and winced, god she made a mess of this!

". . . That didn't come out right,"

 

[Princess-In-Silk-Chains]

Alyssa had tried to stop herself when her bunny-hopping eyes had met Sam's own glancing green orbs, realizing there was no way she hadn't been 'caught', almost feeling the emotions being recognized, and the little laugh Sam emitted had her skipping heart grabbing the lever to her four-eyed-view and yank it back down to the stone of the stoop of their two apartments they perched upon.

'it feels really kinda crummy to want t'ch'"

One might think her eyes would have zoomed back up, but instead, she froze, not in fear or worry, but just, this quiet stillness.
The epitome of 'active listening', though upon the 'I wanna kiss you' confession, her breath took a gulp of air that made her chest swell, like a chill had gone up her back, but, it was actually warm...very warm.

She waited, so as not to interrupt, and the cogs of her mind were a very slow gradual rotation. With her disposition, people didn't consider her the type to do grand gestures or make a first move, but the thing is, every relationship she had been in, if she liked someone enough, she was willing to put herself out there, of all the things that could hurt her feelings, strangely, a possible rejection of a genuine interest just, wasn't one? Perhaps it came to how rare she really felt this pull deep within her belly, it teaching her if she managed to find someone who could actually make her feel something, she should go for it, because she didn't need another thing to be a source of internal pain.

Sam had been brave enough to say something, and actually the fumbling was sort of comforting, was starting to feel a bit intimidating to be the only one tripping all over their words.

Silence, just the air of the night, as Alyssa absorbed the information the night had granted her up to this point, and oh, yea, there was the fuzzy mouth feeling, she wasn't sure if the next step was upon her yet, but it didn't matter.
It felt good to be honest for once, even if embarrassing, and...she could do it again.

She was slow, almost like she didn't want to spook the loftier woman as she placed a hand on the wall exactly beside Sam's hip, to the point her inner forearm brushed against the side of her torso, her head still cast down, playing peek-a-boo with her owl-eyes and bangs, "Sam...I...I'm not drunk anymore, maybe tipsy, but even then, I think it's mostly filtered out, and I've taken 2 single puffs like 10 seconds ago,"
This was mostly just to put everything in perspective as the amaranth haired woman took a step, rounding the brunette to stand more in front of her, but being so close, she wasn't allowing for a lot of distance, "I...heh...I came out here and almost...ended my life. We've tap danced around it but...I'm literally alive right now because of you," The curvy lass's other hand came round to also press against the building wall, boxing Sam in, gingerly sort of pinning her there.
Be bold, she could do it, she already knew there was mutual feelings, even if she didn't get as much as she would want out of this, even if it was just for the night, it would be worth it, and if she could take every other god-damn risk under the moon in this hot person's presence, why the fuck not this one? "I don't know about right place or right time, don't even know if I believe something meant to happen can ever be deterred just because of a location, but near-death experiences, all I want is to feel more alive after them, so," Holy fuck, was she really doing this?
Alyssa leaned forward, her hands still at Sam's sides, and she gulped as her chest leeeeaned forth, soft orbs squishing into her sinewy upper abdomen and she finally tilted her head to look up at her, her expression calm, the sort of serene she only ever had for this sort of focus and circumstance, that even fewer people got to see than her tears, "I felt the urge to kiss you the second I put my hand on your cheek just a few minutes ago...I don't," Speaking of cheeks, hers were dispersing more strawberry red over her expression, trying to coat atop the vanilla complexion, though she stayed cozy and pressed up to the brawny awkward-rescuer, half trapping the woman, though it wasn't like she had much ability to force her to stay if the stronger one wished to simply push her back, "If you're worried about me, or think this is some kind of moral issue, I'm afraid I can't let you hide behind that excuse. So...I want to kiss you too, so, if that's what you want, then nothing should be stopping you," She tried to think about what else could possibly be more of a green light than pressing her up against a wall, and, since she was just throwing-it-all-to-the-wind, Alyssa gulped, her whole head a little cherry, and she carefully squirmed her right leg between Sam's knees and pressed it up into her inner thigh, not fully doing 'the knee thing', but coming within a whisper of it, just so no thoughts of possible straightness could exist any longer, " do it."

It was a marvel she didn't faint with how light headed she had become, but just, this night was like it's own little pocket dimension, her usual inclinations for 'proper', even if quirky, behavior bubbled up, sure, but ultimately were pulled far away into the tide, being repeatedly drowned, and what was left was just a woman who desperately wanted to know what it was like if she just did what she desired instead of acted how she knew other people wanted.

 

[MouseNoises]

Her manic pixie girlfriend in the making started taking verbal inventory of her status, of whether or not she was able to truly consent to more than just cuddles and dope. She wasn't drunk, not anymore, by her own admission anyway. She didn't seem drunk though, she seemed in complete control of her faculties despite the heavy stains from tearing up not so long ago, puffy pink lids and a touch of rouge on her nose - never mind her cheeks, god she was something, something else.

Not wincing but visibly pained by her breakout number - the final dance of their 'tap show' as it were. . . almost ended my life. . . it was true she supposed though she wished it weren't, she'd rather think Alyssa woulda' come to her senses all on her own but it was exactly what it was, it felt strange taking pride in so she compartmentalized it instead, thought of it as. . . just another ripple, far away, an echo of a rhythmic tapping. There were more pressing matters to focus on - Sam backing into the wall behind her as Alyssa pinned her there. Weed and alcohol on her breath, something sickly sweet mixed with fire. Flavoured Vodka presumably.

"Alyssa. . ." Barely breathing her name Samantha withered before her as her pillowy chest pressed against her own chiseled torso. Big gulp, this wasn't like with Stacy, not at all. Her insides were lurching forward - urging the rest of her to follow, with her pink partner waxing romantic she felt no hesitation in wrapping her arms around the other, wherever they'd fit, one around her back on the small, the other resting on her hip, their arms touching here and there - it felt similar to before but a different charge to it,

It was a mood really, she understood that emotion vicariously enough. Wanting more than just the crushing blow of emotion that came with a break of character, or so, that's how she in her self-seeking most place comprehended Alyssa's words. Maybe that wasn't it, after all, she'd never herself quite gotten to the ledge even if she'd contemplated the world without her. . . When Sam changed herself after the most crushing blows of her adult life, not the death of family but rather the death of a relationship she'd made her world, Sam changed everything about herself, she leaned into the new her, kissing girls on rooftops didn't seem like the most reckless of behavior to participate in.

"It's not that," Samantha assured Alyssa in earnest, it wasn't a moral dilemma of whether or not she could see someone potentially suicidal or anything like that. People had faults, it was scary, it was a risk, but Sam wasn't perfect and really - she didn't think high enough herself to say whether or not she was worth more. Maybe if her back bone was strong as her biceps she'd consider it some sort of red flag but with her codependency in full swing there were jellyfish with more spine.

I want to kiss you too,

Greenlight. Before she could simply lean forward and capture lips with her own though - Alyssa straddled over her thigh and into the crook between, pressing against the firm inside of her leg. . . the arm on her back slid upward, fingertips just below the junction between shoulderblades, her fingertips flirting with hair and hood both. Alyssa was the perfect size to take up in her arms and she would have done just that if not for the precarious position of her knee, not quite engaged but warm enough to promise she may be soon enough.

Do it,

Advance green, turning into the other Samantha didn't need another three invitations to do just that. She closed her eyes and "Mng, smch," gave her the first cursory smooch of many to come, more a peck really. "Smch, mf, smch. . . smch," several more demanded by their mixed passions, Sam's hand on Alyssa's hip bringing gripping her, rising to her side to pull and urge - as if they could be any closer than they already were. "Oauh, mmf," a deep breath followed by a heated affirmation, the taste of weed and Alyssa on her wet lips,

Foreheads pressed together briefly, then lips married again, Sam parting Alyssa's and dipping her tongue inside, this wasn't a moment to be bashful - oh no, Sam wasn't kissing her with reserve, she wasn't kissing her like the awkward mumbling woman who asked permission but rather like a forlorn lover ignited, like a long lost love, like a first love, she kissed her without regard, with abandon, with p a s s i o n a plenty, like she needed her and they'd only just met.

That's what she needed, Sam was searching, was praying, was hoping for someone to throw herself into. Selfish as it was, Alyssa was perfect.

 

[Princess-In-Silk-Chains]

Alyssa exhaled deeply through her nose as the two had their first kiss, no regard for the sadness if this would be their only, or too much excited focus if this would be the beginning of many, heart strings connecting through their lips and then like a string of sparklers seeping into the cold of her veins lighting her all up inside, living just 'in the now'.

Oh thank gods, fuck, heh ha.

She hadn't so much had been bluffing but more so just holding in that sort of heavy stone of air in her lungs to only be let go when it was aware whether it be in disappointment or exuberance. Lips opened, tongue gingerly greeting tongue as she delightedly let it swirl-swirl, in a sweet 'hello there~' dance.
The amaranth haired one melted beneath the hands on her hips and back, holding her tighter, humming, "Mmmmm~" as the rosy sweet hue of blossoming affections painted the metaphorical air around them.

It felt good. It felt close. It was it's own intoxication...that Alyssa never wanted to become sober from.

The heat was rising, an inferno between their bellies as the stronger lass seemed to be releasing her own heartache through their touch, what was left unsaid, unlike the over-sharing Alyssa had been doing, and so, it felt like this was a way to marginally assist in some semblance of a manner to how she had received, Alyssa had needed words, maybe Sam was more a touch-talker.
Both her snowy hands pulled from the wall in order to take hold of cheeks, lovingly trapping their lip-lock even further, smooth palms up against boxy jawline.
Her chest continued to nuzzle forward against her, like soft creatures burrowing, and, not so much to imply anything but more so to just enjoy and indulge, that leg that wormed between thighs roooose higher and, then she really was 'doing the knee thing'. It could be blamed on the fact that leaning forward to get as close together as possible made it more necessary considering their positioning, so perhaps not a direct 'lets jump into the deep end', but more a whisper of 'wouldn't be against it'. Feeling her knee nudge-nudge at the crest of Sam's pelvis, knowing there was likely a bit of...stimulation consequences, a bit of pressure without being too overtly lewd, as, again, could simply be blamed on the way they were standing.

Hmmm, it was warm here, so warm, and now that weed was over taking booze, she was more aware of the chill in the air and saught further solace in Sam's fire. Hands slowly slipped up her head till they found that short little mop of brown hair, and curled her fingers, pulling the locks into her fists, giving it the most gentle of tugs, though their faces were about as smushed together as they could be while also still being sensual.

 

[MouseNoises]

'holy shit' her insides twisted with heated need as they kissed deeper and deeper still - as their tongues met and it tasted and felt just like she'd imagined, just like she'd wanted. It was hot, wet, slippery and tasted like watermelon, genetically altered and bleached sugars, the bite of vodka and remnants of dope - a nice mixture, a new mixture, Alyssa's. Alyssa's hands had found her cheeks at some point in the session and just past that her knee, oh god, her knee.

"Hnn-nng," a needy sort of sound infused into her kiss, it was too much! She could feel her cheeks tingling with heat under Alyssa's hands, that same heat dizzying like drugs she'd yet to do, oh fuck, personally Samantha didn't quite adore her jaw line, it was a point of contrition, when her initial need for pumped iron and acid soaked muscles came from a desire to get thin but try as she might she couldn't change her bone structure - her face always looked wide, no helping it, at least it matched her sinewy neck as the intentions of her workout changed to bulking up. It seemed Alyssa however, treasured it, the way she held her face was nothing short of how one would hold something prized, precious, precariously close to. . . "Fffsth," fucking melt down.

Between the knee pressing against her groin, the hands on her jawline, the breasts upon her modest shelf, the lips - oh goodness, those lips. . . It was too much not to return it all with her own fevered affections, she pressed her lips against Alyssa's with yet another moan her hands repositioning on her rear, thick strong fingers sinking into pillowy flesh - firm groping hands making themselves known, practically urging Alyssa off her legs and into her mouth the way she did. If it wasn't clear already Alyssa was practically featherlight in her arms.

Sex was nothing new, nothing unfamiliar, though particularly. . . well, she'd never expected it to go that direction but this wasn't the sort of kissing that stopped at kissing. It was quickly evolving to more than just making out - Alyssa's cotton clad knee saw to that. Was it so wrong for her to want more so quick? Was it so wrong for her to start grinding her flat pelvis and mound into the knee and thigh so kindly pressed there? Was it so wrong to say "You're so ff, -"

The kiss broke and there on the fire escape she confessed "You're so pretty Alyssa, I won't make you blue. I promise." She meant it too, it wasn't just a heated promise because well, Alyssa was making every effort to arouse her to the point me might just say something like a promise she couldn't keep. With that one hand reached up and stole Alyssa's hand from her cheek, pulling it down and placing it on her chest over her heart - furiously beating, lungs climbing and dropping with excitement. . .

"Mph, I swear," She promised their hands over her heart, lips kissing at Alyssa's upper lip, cheek, jostling and bumping her glasses with her nose all the while. Once her heart crossed promise was made she lowered the hand toward her breast, letting Alyssa's go once it was there - moving her own to match it on a far lovelier handful. Still firmly holding and massaging ass in one hand, her other now on Alyssa's soft breast she didn't need a map, her lips back to their partner. Hot-hot-heat swelling between her legs, thumping, throbbing, every rub drawing her closer to a place where 'the knee thing' and light patting simply would not do it!

 

[Princess-In-Silk-Chains]

Soft little echoes of moans, muffled panting into kiss after kiss, the beginning of their sensual little song.

"hhmmm!~" Was yelped and echoed in the pillowy one's throat as fingers kneaded down into her cushy backside, not much of a ba-donk, but she did have 2 sets of modest weight dumbbells she used for squats at home, her exercise regimen healthy but severely more lax than her make-out partner, so there was a nice handful, almost a perfect fit for her spread and kneading fingers, the friction and massage causing Alyssa to buck forward softly, knee rubbing back and forth over the nook-of-lust, truly a bit by accident this time, a few electric zaps of want passing around below her own waist.

Alyssa's half lidded eyes looked like fire flies over a circular pool when the kiss broke momentarily, her hips flinching faintly as the tension beneath her blue leggings was being more and more added onto, her teeth softly catching on her bottom lip as Sam interjected a bit of sweet sweet assurance, the romantic taste of it closer to a long-time relationship as opposed to a, at most an hour-ish? interaction. A completely sane person might say it was too soon to utter something with such depth, but, could say the exact same thing about word-vomiting her deepest sources of grief before hand too, so, what the fuck ever.
She nodded, believing but also a bit of desperation to continue, though she noticed her hand being guided down, and her fingers spread and expertly cupped from the underside when she was essentially given free-reign to grope, eyes rolling back into her head as the synapses were alive and shooting in her brain as her budding-romance's wider palm took up one of her own globular masses, spilling between and over her fingers due to a considerable larger size.

The undulating and feeling went on for a few moments longer, a growing 'pinching' feeling getting more and more apparent between her thighs, the kisses getting a bit more imprecise to allow freedom of passions.

It didn't feel like enough, the more they kissed the less it felt like enough.

And then it was the amaranth one's turn to break the smacking lips, the breaths having fogged up her glasses a little, making her gilded-sapphire gleam all the more illuminating, and she pressed forward, warm cheek nuzzling warm cheek as she whispered into Sam's ear, being a bit playful, but also, sincere, both bands cupping and carefully kneading up against her chest as though to add to the 'hug' of her words, "Ditto~"

She gulped, and suddenly dropped down to her knees.

Alyssa looked up, hands held high, still groping for as long as they were able until she settled into a 'proper ladylike' seat on her lower legs between Sam's feet, her gliding palms over Sam's torso and heading down for the hem of her pants, Alyssa's face already level with...the 'stirring' she had no doubt created with her kneeing, though her owl eyes stayed looking up into emeralds.

"Is th-this ok?" Her right hand came to her hemline, fingers curled, slipping down and already being skin-to-skin with the top of her pubic-line, and her left hand slipped beneath that bright sweat-shirt, trailing along the strong abdominal lines that resided, her cool skin probably a bit of a shock considering the weather, before warming up in seconds as the tips of her fingers found the bottom of her bra, tucking just beneath the band, but waiting before taking the next step where privates would stop being so private between them.

It just, there couldn't be any wondering or 'I'm kinda ok with it', inclinations.

Enthusiasm was the only way.

 

[MouseNoises]

In there position on the roof with Alyssa's knee grinding up against her most tender of junctions, it was far from perfect but in that moment she could hardly ask for more. Most people in this sorta hyper sexual, high emotion, high exposure sorta gig might feel 'like a kid again,' but Sam had no wild oats sewn, no crazy experience to draw from, this was something new entirely and twice as electrifying for it. The more they kissed the more need grew, but it was an insatiable sort, one she knew would be more than just difficult to sate in their current position. . .

With Alyssa now groping her breast, pinching and tugging at sensitive flesh - the next step was more than hoped for, more than affirmed by a throaty sorta growl, an admission rumbling in her chest. Her eyes were closed, her face taken by lust entirely, mouth slightly agape taking wild breaths as "Ohm'ff," she heard the other adjust, felt her adjust, no longer grinding up against her or pinning her to the wall, no longer filling her hands with her shapely rear but rather felt her shoulders after a shift.

One eye slid opened and spied Alyssa looking at her crotch, she knew between a layer of cotton was a drenched through set of hip-hugging panties and her aching snatch, desperate for more than just heavy patting and groping, they were doing this. "Y-yah, I want this," a gulped breath, her eyes slid back shut and her head tilted back helping Alyssa.

Her hands retreated from Alyssa's shoulder, one brushing over her ear and taking a moment to cherish the soft touch of her cheek, adjusting her glasses back into place - a tender gesture, one she didn't really think of in the moment. Samantha had jostled, smudged and fogged up the lenses several times over - least she could do was return them to their perch. The moment was short lived though as her fingers reached Alyssa's and started to tug at the waist of her sweats, it wouldn't be long before her flat core and musclebound hips were in sight, black poli-fiber panties, dark grey - all but black around her crotch where her lust had soaked through.

"I want you, Alyssa," thumb and fingers taking hold of bright red strands, tenderly caressing her crown, daring to look down - hoping beyond hopes she wasn't looking up at her for her expression was desperate, needy, vulnerable, there she was, giving up another piece of herself. . . only this, this was different. This wasn't giving up a piece of herself for society or to look a certain way, it wasn't giving up a piece of herself to seem cooler or more in command of a typical lifestyle, she was giving up a piece of her strength, a piece for Alyssa, to Alyssa, she was handing over power to someone, not something.

It may have been difficult but it was simple, so long as Alyssa was true, so long as Alyssa held onto that piece of Samantha's. . . maybe, just maybe she had more to give.

Over her flat crotch, the plate of flesh slightly sunkissed it seemed, as if one could believe it when she tugged at the band of her panties the flesh they obscured was even lighter, a small, tasteful bush kept tame above just peeking through the clinging material ". . . please," hoping slender fingers should soon assist with the final steps, leave her panties and sweats in a puddle around her ankles, or even bunched around her knees, she didn't care, whatever gave Alyssa access, purchase, presence on her waiting puss.