1st.

Aubrey wakes to sunlight streaming through the curtains and spilling all over Chloe. The redhead, luminous hair streaming over her pillow and down her bare form, senses her movement and turns. "Hi," she murmurs, smiling, blue eyes wide and soft and coy. They lock with Aubrey's, then flick as if by their own volition to the rest of her body, around their unmade bed, back up to her face, her lips.

Involuntarily, too, Aubrey blushes and shifts the sheet farther up her chest, noting that Chloe—of course—only has it just below her waist. The senselessness of her gesture, given what they have both woken up to, only deepens the flush on her cheeks. She loses herself in giggles when Chloe grins at what she has done, then loses her laughter, breath, and the sheet when Chloe moves over for a long, deep kiss.

She returns it, eagerly. A few seconds after they pull apart, she catches an even more furious blush spreading across Chloe's face.

"Stop staring, Bree. It's not anything you haven't seen before," Chloe tries to quip. But the look in the other girl's green eyes makes her voice hitch in her throat.

"No," Aubrey whispers, then leans forward to kiss Chloe again, so she will no longer need to speak or see. For she cannot lie, and the truth is she cannot say that she is sorry to be this desirous. No, Chloe naked isn't anything she hasn't seen before, and yet, no, she has never seen Chloe naked before, not like this.

And this, having all of this? Chloe, here and now, Chloe, last night, Chloe, in every moment of every year in each of their lives together and apart, which led them both to this? This is something Aubrey wants to have, again and again, always and forever. She is no longer ashamed about it, and she will no longer be embarrassed to express that. No. Not anymore.