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  1. Public Bookmark 6

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    “I—,” Brigitte stuttered, feeling Anran’s fingers rubbing back and forth against the landscape of her waist. “We shouldn’t,” she said quietly, in a borderline gasp as Anran slid two fingers underneath the elastic band of the woman's fire pants. In the locker room of their station? It was foolish at best and catastrophically stupid at worst. Anran, still cradling her jaw, gently tilted Brigitte’s head downwards to make up for the height gap.

    “I know,” the paler woman sighed, pushing herself up on the balls of her heels. She brushed her lips against Brigitte’s, inhaling her scent—she smelled like metal, cinnamon, and smoke.

    “But I just don’t care.”

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    12 Mar 2026