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[ LEAN ] thomas x yon ?

sexual tension prompts! <3

[ LEAN ] : sender leans tantalisingly close to receiver to retrieve something or catch their attention.

there she stood. vibrating bass that almost echoed through her system with a crescendo silence, her shaky fingers occupied by a shitty plastic cup with contents unknown to her and probably the one who provided her with it. neon lights intoxicate her state of mind, she wants to move, to dance. oh fuck. realisation seeps in and her posture stiffens, seemingly frozen where she stood as the thoughts flood in like waves. 

it’d been what? a month? since she’d asked somebody to accompany her in a dance - the craving- the lust to play god with another’s fate had faded out for what yon felt, to be forever. quietly, dames curses to herself, allowing eyes flutter ever so gently shut as a nervous sigh tumbled from lips painted purple- a moment of calm.

the room grew a little darker and yon found her optics snapping open at the sudden shift, they find a hand beside her - she follows it up until there’s a face in view. any annoyance melts away as realisation hits of who the hand belongs too. thomas. she’d gotten comfortable with him recently so there’s almost a smile as he leans a little closer. ‘you okay?’ he’d shout beside her ear, to them both- it was seemingly a whisper in all that noise. yon didn’t care. yon didn’t even process what it was he said. her gaze sat innocently on his, remaining there as these new thoughts about him popped into her head. heart, racing. there’s a growing feeling of guilt in her gut, why would she want to risk this with thomas? of all people? what was wrong with her? of course, these questions were all internal. physically, her arms wrapped over his shoulder- shameless, she’s smiling, mirroring his action & tone of voice;

"i’m fine. dance with me?”