Twelve floors down

Chapter 4 Let Me Undo You

Joelle didn’t sleep.

Even after Talia left, even after the lights came back on sometime around 3 a.m., she lay on her back staring at the ceiling, wide awake in her silence.

The kiss.

God, the kiss.

It had replayed in her head a dozen different ways every angle, every breath, the weight of Talia’s mouth against hers, the way their fingers had tangled for half a second too long. She could still feel the warmth of her sweater pressed to her chest. Still taste the mix of curry and wine on her lips,the warmth of her breast her moans sounded like music to her ears

But what shook her wasn’t the kiss itself.

It was how easy it had felt.

Like her body had already known what to do before her mind gave permission.

Joelle sat up. Ran both hands over her face. Thought about pouring more wine. Didn’t.

At 4:21 a.m., she picked up her phone.

She didn’t type a paragraph. Didn’t overthink.

She just wrote:

Still awake. You?

Read,Delivered,No response.

She set the phone down and leaned back on the couch, arms crossed over her chest like she could hold herself still.

The reply came two minutes later.

Always.

Joelle stared at it.

Then wrote:

Want to come up?

This time, it took three seconds.

Be there in five.

She opened the door before the knock.

Talia stood there, same hoodie, same expression calm, unreadable, eyes soft. She didn’t bring anything with her. No wine. No banter.

Just herself.

Joelle stepped back.

Talia walked in.

They didn’t speak.

Joelle closed the door. Leaned against it for a breath. Talia turned to face her.

They looked at each other.

Joelle crossed the space first.

It wasn’t a kiss not yet.

It was a hand on a forearm. Then fingers on a jawline. Then breath mingling in the quiet between them.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Joelle whispered.

Talia’s voice was just as low. “Good.”

That made Joelle laugh. Just once.

Then the laugh turned into something softer closer.

Their mouths met again. Slower this time. Not the heat of surprise, but the gravity of choice.

Joelle’s hands slid beneath Talia’s hoodie, palms against her waist. Talia let it fall away in one motion.

She was warm. Solid. Beautiful without trying.

Joelle touched her like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to.

Talia guided her hand to her spine.

“You don’t have to know,” she murmured. “You just have to feel.”

They made it to the couch, half-dressed, skin to skin.

Nothing rushed.

No performance.

Joelle’s breath hitched when Talia kissed the base of her throat. Her hands were unsure at first, then hungry.

But it wasn’t just the s*x.

It was the way Talia looked at her with every move, like she was watching her unfold.

Like she wanted the version of Joelle without the edges.

Joelle didn’t want to be impressive.

She wanted to be real.

When she came undone, it was silent.

No gasp. No cry.

Just a stillness she hadn’t felt in years.

Talia didn’t say anything.

She just pulled the blanket up over both of them, curled in behind her, one arm draped across her waist.

Joelle stared at the ceiling, her eyes wide open.

She didn’t feel broken anymore.

Just… open.