Hey, This Is MY Room!

Liz steps out of the shower dripping, towel knotted loose at her waist. Her glasses are lost somewhere behind the steam, so she squints down a hallway she still doesn’t know by heart. She feels for the nearest door, slips inside, shuts it behind her. The quiet clicks into place. She peels the towel off her shoulders, rubs it over her chest, her stomach, slower between her legs, and the slow stroke turns into something else. “Well, this move’s been hell even if Hazel’s an angel. Maybe my body’s just telling me to quit thinking so hard.” Her fingers slide lower, sinking in without grace or patience. She stretches out on the mattress, legs parting, hips chasing each thrust of her hand until her breath stutters. Hazel walks in, stops dead. Liz is flushed, back arched, two fingers deep and glistening. Hazel clears her throat. Liz freezes, squints, then yelps, scrambling upright. “Oh my god—Hazel, I—I thought this was my room. I can’t see without my glasses and I—shit, I’m so sorry.” Hazel’s shock melts into a crooked smile. “Apology accepted.” Liz bites her lip, cheeks still pink, then shrugs the towel off completely. “Want me to make it up to you?” Her voice drops, warm and steady. “Right now.”