3RD PERSON'S POV
Rodora woke up first, the early morning light casting a soft, golden glow over the room. She turned her head to find Orange sleeping beside her, her long blue hair scattered like a halo on the pillow. For a moment, Rodora simply watched her, the rise and fall of Orange's chest a soothing rhythm that calmed her restless thoughts. Each breath Orange took was like a whisper of the past, a reminder of the moments they had shared and the chasm that now lay between them.
Unable to resist, Rodora reached out and gently touched Orange's lips. The soft, familiar texture sent a wave of nostalgia crashing over her. She missed the way Orange's lips tasted and felt, the way they used to share whispered secrets and stolen kisses. But she quickly pulled her hand back, reminding herself of the boundaries Orange had set. The boundaries that marked the line between what once was and what might never be again.
As the morning light grew brighter, Rodora slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Orange. She moved to the window, staring out at the city that was just beginning to stir. The buildings stood tall against the awakening sky, each window reflecting a piece of the dawn. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, a mix of hope and regret that left her feeling unsteady. The city seemed to mirror her internal chaos, alive and bustling, yet filled with shadows of uncertainty.
When Orange finally stirred, Rodora turned to face her, her heart pounding in her chest. Orange blinked sleepily, her eyes meeting Rodora's with a mix of confusion and wariness. The look in Orange's eyes was a stark reminder of the distance that had grown between them, a distance filled with unresolved issues and unspoken words.
They didn't exchange any words as they got ready for the day, the silence between them heavy with unspoken emotions. Rodora could feel the tension, the unresolved issues that hung in the air like a storm cloud. But she respected Orange's need for space, knowing that pushing too hard could drive her away. Each movement was deliberate, each gesture careful, as if they were both walking on a fragile layer of ice.
As they left Orange's home and headed to band practice, the silence continued. They walked side by side, but it felt like there was a chasm between them, a gap that neither knew how to bridge. The familiar streets they walked were now paths of silent reflection, each step a reminder of the unspoken words hanging between them.
When they arrived at the studio, the other band members were already there, setting up their instruments. The moment they saw Rodora and Orange walk in together, a collective hush fell over the room. Eyes widened in shock, but no one said a word. The unspoken questions lingered in the air, adding to the tension that already existed.
Rodora could see the questions in their eyes, the curiosity and confusion that mirrored her own. But she didn't offer any explanations, and neither did Orange. They simply took their places, Rodora picking up her guitar and Orange settling behind her keyboard. The familiar weight of the instrument in her hands provided a small comfort, a fleeting sense of normalcy.
The practice session began, the familiar notes and rhythms filling the room. For a while, it felt like old times, the music a temporary balm for the tension that lingered. But every now and then, Rodora would glance over at Orange, her heart aching with the weight of everything left unsaid. Each glance was a silent plea, a hope that they could somehow find their way back to what they once had.
During a break, the band members gathered around, their curiosity finally getting the better of them. Ellie looked between Rodora and Orange, her eyes filled with questions. But she didn't ask, sensing the delicate nature of the situation. The silence was thick, but it was a silence that spoke volumes, a silence filled with the weight of understanding and the need for patience.
The practice session continued, and Rodora found herself lost in the music, the familiar melodies a comforting presence. But her thoughts kept drifting back to Orange, to the way her lips had felt under her touch, to the hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other. Each note played was a reminder of the harmony they once shared, a harmony that now seemed just out of reach.
When the session finally came to an end, Rodora and Orange packed up their instruments in silence. The other band members offered words of encouragement, but they didn't linger, giving the two of them the space they needed. The unspoken support of their friends was a small comfort, a reminder that they were not alone in their struggle.
The walk back to Orange's house was a silent journey, each step accompanied only by the sound of their breathing and the distant hum of the city. The tension between them was palpable, a silent conversation filled with unresolved emotions and unspoken words. Each step was a reminder of the distance between them, a distance that felt both physical and emotional.
When they finally reached the inside of Orange's room, she turned around to face Rodora, her eyes searching Rodora's face for something—perhaps a sign, perhaps an answer. The message was clear: it was time for Rodora to leave. The look in Orange's eyes was a plea for space, a silent request for time to process the whirlwind of emotions.
But Rodora couldn't bring herself to go. The sight of Orange, so close yet so distant, stirred something deep within her. Without a word, she reached out and grabbed Orange's wrist, pulling her back into the room. The suddenness of the movement took Orange by surprise, her eyes widening in shock.
Before Orange could react, Rodora's lips were on hers, urgent and desperate. The kiss was a collision of pent-up emotions, a release of everything they had both been holding back. Rodora's height gave her the advantage, and she used it to her full extent, pinning Orange against the wall. The world seemed to blur around them, the only thing that mattered was the connection between their lips, the way their bodies pressed together.
Rodora's hands found their way to Orange's waist, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. It was a kiss filled with longing, with regret, with a desperate hope for reconciliation. For a moment, Orange resisted, her hands pushing weakly against Rodora's chest. But then, as if a dam had broken, she melted into the kiss, her arms wrapping around Rodora's neck. The kiss shifted from desperate to tender, a silent apology and a promise all in one.
When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other. The silence that followed was different this time—not filled with tension, but with understanding. Rodora looked into Orange's eyes, her thumb gently caressing Orange's cheek. The look they shared was one of mutual acknowledgment, a silent agreement to take things one step at a time.
No words were needed. The kiss had said it all.
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