Late night seminar grind with Lisa

A couple hours after dinner, you knock on Lisa’s door. There’s about a minute’s pause before she shows up at the door, wearing a light pink camisole. With the way it hugs her slim cheerleader’s body, her blonde hair brushed aside, you’re already thinking lewd thoughts...

“I was working,” she says gruffly.

“Funny, because I came here to talk about work,” you say, leaning on her door frame. “Want to do it like the old days? We’ve got a Seminar paper due tomorrow.”

She scowls and says: “Fine. Come in before anyone sees you.”

So you do so, slipping into her room, only to find yourself looking at Lisa’s laptop propped open on her lofted bed.

“Really? Tangled? And you said you were working?” you say, giving Lisa a look.

“It’s source material for my paper!” Lisa huffs. She sits on her bed and picks up her computer, switching it over to Word. “I’m just brushing up to find some quotes to use.”

“Somehow, I don’t think there was much studying going on,” you respond. “The way the blankets are pulled over and the pillows propped up… that’s always what you do when you’re settling in to watch TV.”

“Maybe I was sitting comfy,” your twin sister reluctantly admits. “But now you’ve come and ruined it. So are you going to take a look at my paper?”

You give it a disinterested wave, shaking your head.

“I’ve got a better idea,” you say, taking a seat next to her on the bed. “Why don’t we watch the rest of the movie together? You’re already halfway through, by the look of it.”

Lisa narrows her eyes at you.

“What? Not like you weren’t going to be watching it anyways…”

“Okay,” she mutters, making a bit more space on the bed for you. “But then we’re trading papers afterwards. I want to see what you wrote.”

You nod, cozying up beside her, the two of you sitting shoulder to shoulder with the laptop propped up on a pillow over Lisa’s legs. As the movie starts playing, she starts to relax, her body leaning ever so slightly more against yours. Childhood memories of cold winter nights, you curled up with your sister in front of the TV, come back to you. Lisa hums along to the music, no trace of her typical resting bitch face to be seen, just the old childlike wonder that she’s always had for Disney princess films. Good to know that she’ll still let her guard down around you…

“Flynn Rider’s dreamy, isn’t he,” she sighs under her breath, as the man in question leaps through more heroics on the screen.

“He sure is,” you agree. You pause. “Hey, you know who he reminds me of?”

“Who?” she asks.

“Me,” you say, confidently slinging your arm over her shoulder.

“Stop being weird,” Lisa immediately says, but you see the way her eyes linger on you, something about the comparison giving her pause.

And as the movie plays on, Lisa gently rests her head in the crook of your shoulder. You glance down at her.

“I’m just tired,” she yawns. “And this is cosy.”

“Sure thing, Lisa,” you smile, grabbing a bit more of the blanket for yourself.

Lisa glares at you.

“Just because I’m too tired to fight back, doesn’t mean you can just take my blanket,” she says.

“Sharing’s caring,” you say. “Wasn’t your paper all about how big bad capitalism is manufacturing our perceptions of love and sex? You should be happy to share.”

“Principles are one thing, but blankets are another,” she says, weakly trying to grab back some of the blanket for herself. “These are the one thing that I won’t share.”

“The one thing you won’t share?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “Everything else is game?”

She laughs, saying: “What else could you be looking to ‘share?’”

“A kiss,” you say.

This floors her. Lisa blinks, her blue eyes staring at the movie, then flicking to their corners, glancing at you. She’s still in your arms, her head still resting on your shoulder, and it would be so easy to…

You turn your head down and peck her on the cheek, the action quick and chaste, though even that slight brush of your lips against her skin feels absolutely electric to you.

“That’s what you call sharing a kiss?” she murmurs under her breath.

“What do you think a shared kiss looks like?” you ask, running a hand through her long blonde hair.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she smiles.

She turns her head to face yours, and your heart stops for a minute as her eyes wander over your lips, a hand of hers creeping onto your thigh. She seems to be intently examining you, or maybe she’s steeling herself, preparing to do something bold, and then she leans in, close, and kisses the side of your neck, softly, briefly. The sensation sears itself into your memory, even as she returns to resting her head on your shoulder.

“It’s only a shared kiss when it’s reciprocated,” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“You’re being ridiculous,” you say, when it’s clear that she’s done, and she’s once again giving the movie her full attention. The frustration in your loins is palpable.

“It’s awfully fun to tease you,” she says, smiling at you. “And now look, they’re getting married… so the movie’s over.” She unentangles herself from you, slipping out from your arm with a wriggle of her shoulders. “Guess we’ve got to do work now.”

“Yes, right, work,” you say dimly, looking at Lisa’s computer, where her paper’s been pulled up again.

Inside, you can’t help but think: Did I mess it up? Did I go too far? Or should I have gone for more? And what does she mean when she says that it’s fun to tease?...

Lisa +15