Soft Things
The city looked unreal from Leah's hotel window.
Snow drifted slowly across Manhattan, softening the sharpness of everything below. Yellow taxis moved like streaks of gold through the dark while distant sirens echoed faintly somewhere downtown.
Inside the room, though, everything felt warm.
Quiet.
Close.
Elle sat sideways against the headboard with Leah beside her, both slightly breathless still, tangled in that strange intimacy that comes after kissing someone for a long time.
The adrenaline had softened now.
What remained felt somehow more dangerous.
Because it wasn't just physical anymore.
Leah's hand rested lazily against Elle's thigh, thumb tracing absentminded patterns through the fabric of her jeans while they talked quietly about nothing important.
Favourite cities.
Terrible interviews.
The fact Leah genuinely couldn't cook.
"You're lying."
"I swear to God," Leah laughed softly. "I once burnt pasta."
"That's not even possible."
"I'm gifted."
Elle smiled, watching her carefully.
Leah looked different like this.
Less guarded.
The version of her the world saw was polished — captain-like, composed, media trained within an inch of her life.
But here, barefoot in hotel sweats with messy hair and flushed cheeks, she looked younger somehow. Softer.
More real.
"You keep looking at me like that," Leah murmured.
"Like what?"
"Like you're trying to figure me out."
Elle hesitated briefly.
"Maybe I am."
Leah smiled faintly and leaned her head back against the wall behind them.
"Good luck."
Their legs brushed beneath the blankets.
Neither moved away.
The room settled into comfortable silence for a moment before Elle spoke again.
"You know what surprised me most?"
"What?"
"You're shy."
Leah turned immediately. "Excuse me?"
"You are."
"I absolutely am not."
Elle laughed quietly. "Leah, you checked if I was comfortable like six times tonight."
A flush crept faintly across Leah's cheeks.
"That's not shyness."
"It's carefulness."
Leah looked down briefly.
Then softer—
"Maybe you matter."
The words landed heavily between them.
Neither joked after that.
The tension shifted again, becoming quieter. More intimate.
Elle reached over gently, fingers brushing against the rings on Leah's hand.
"You do this when you're nervous," she noticed.
Leah watched her thumb trace the silver absentmindedly.
"Occupational hazard."
"No," Elle said quietly. "I think you just feel things deeply."
Leah looked at her then.
Really looked at her.
And something vulnerable flickered briefly across her face before disappearing again.
"You make me feel very perceived," she admitted.
Elle smiled softly. "Terrifying experience?"
"Horrific."
That earned a laugh.
Then Leah kissed her again.
Slowly this time.
No urgency now. No overwhelming rush.
Just warmth.
Hands sliding carefully against skin. Foreheads resting together between kisses. The quiet intimacy of two people learning each other in pieces.
Leah's fingers brushed gently beneath the hem of Elle's jumper, hesitating slightly like she was asking permission without words.
Elle moved closer in answer immediately.
The kiss deepened again.
Warmer.
Hungrier.
And the soft sound Leah made against her mouth nearly made Elle lose her mind entirely.
"Christ," Leah whispered breathlessly, forehead dropping against hers. "You're distracting."
"You've mentioned."
"I mean it."
Her voice had gone rougher now.
Lower.
Elle's pulse fluttered hard at the sound.
Outside, snow continued falling across New York.
Inside, Leah kissed along her jaw slowly, carefully, like she was trying to memorise her.
And maybe she was.
Because every touch still carried a kind of disbelief beneath it.
Like neither of them could quite believe this had actually happened.
That a late-night Instagram reply had somehow led here.
To this room.
This city.
This feeling.
Eventually they settled back against the pillows again, tangled close together beneath hotel blankets while Manhattan glowed outside the windows.
Leah's arm wrapped loosely around her waist now, absentminded fingers tracing shapes against her skin.
Comfortable.
Natural.
Dangerous in the best way.
"You know," Elle murmured sleepily against her shoulder, "you're going to ruin long distance for me after this."
Leah laughed softly into her hair.
"Bit late for that."