Kyla
Carlos and I stumble to my bedroom with our lips attached, fighting with one another’s clothing. By the time we arrive, we are only in our underwear, a trail of clothes behind us. He pushes me roughly down on my unmade bed. Something felt different; his kiss felt more eager and dominant. It may have something to do with our earlier conversation. I expect him to climb onto the bed to me, but he doesn’t. He glances around like he is looking for something.
A smirk curls on his lips. I try to see what has caused him to smirk, but I can’t see a reason for it. I watch him curiously as he walks away. He picks something up, but with his back to me, I can’t figure out what it is. When he turns back around, I see one of my scarves in his hands.
“What do you plan on doing with that?” I ask.
