You Leave Me Speechless

Alexis Tae steps out in that green dress and the room goes still. The fabric clings, then releases, tracing every line of her body like a second skin. Penny sits on the couch with her index cards, trying to focus on the questions, but the sight of her prodigy steals every thought. When the run-through begins, Alexis stands tall in the middle of the room, answering like she already owns the stage. The final question lands. She speaks about winning for LGBTQ+ rights, and her words hit Penny square in the chest. Tears threaten. Alexis moves closer, worried she’s upset her mentor, but Penny shakes her head. The speech was perfect. She just wishes she’d had that kind of nerve back when it was her turn. Alexis sets the cards aside. The courage is Penny’s doing, she says, and now she intends to show exactly how grateful she is. She lowers herself to the couch, close enough that their knees touch. One hand rests on Penny’s thigh, the other cups her cheek. Then Alexis leans in, lips parting, and the quiet thanks turn into something far more direct. Fingers slide beneath the hem of the green dress. Penny answers with a soft gasp, hips lifting into the touch. Alexis works with slow purpose—mouth on Penny’s neck, hand guiding, both of them breathing hard. Every stroke, every press, says what words can’t: this is how she proves it. The dress stays on, bunched at Alexis’s waist, while Penny’s hand finds its way between her legs in return. They move together on the couch, urgent now, the pageant forgotten, the living room suddenly the only stage that matters.