the progress project [3]

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yuli

"i want you," she whispers against vivian's mouth in the pitch-black room. her hands are touching the bare skin on her back, lips burning from the making out.

vivian's knees practically buckle, but she gathers the strength to tilt her head to the side and yank on a cord. the moon neon sign lights up the room.

"can we please talk, yuli?" she asks, voice tinged in concern and empathy.

"what about?"

"you were upset. why?"

putting up a façade is the easiest option. "it was nothing," yuli says, but can't seem to come up with another lie.

"why don't we both talk about our shit?" vivian's eyes are pleading.

she doesn't know why she agrees. she grabs two t-shirts from her nightstand, tossing none for vivian to change into, stripping down to do the same herself. eyes are watching her the entire time.

climbing into the twin bed, vivian lies on her side, back against the wall. yuli slides in to face her, knowing that this might be a terrible decision.