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This is good, it feels good.
Ellie likes this; she likes Riley.
It's good.
Why did they wait so long to do this?
Ellie wants to keep doing this.
Riley's hand is in her hair, and her mouth is on her lips, and it feels so good.
She likes it, she likes her.
Ellie's hand is in Riley's hair, and she moves her mouth over Riley's lips.
Her lips are a little dry, but they're also a little moist, and Ellie's not sure how she feels about that, except she wants to feel more of it, she wants to run her tongue across Riley's lips.
Is that weird? It's got to be weird.
But then Riley is doing it, and it's not weird, it's not weird at all.
Riley's fingers are on Ellie's hip, her pointer and middle fingers are on her skin.
She can feel them there, rough and long, pressing into the flesh of her hip.
Her other fingers are on her jeans, the pinkie finger curled around her belt loop.
Riley's fingers are on her hip, her mouth on Ellie's mouth, and her tongue is pressing against her lips.
Ellie likes this, she likes Riley, she likes her so much.
They're going to die.
This is all they get.
They are going to die, and this is all they get.
Ellie opens her lips, and then Riley's tongue is in her mouth.
Ellie's never kissed like this.
She's never kissed, period.
But she never imagined kissing like this. Not with Riley, not with anyone.
She's kissing with her tongue, and it should feel gross, and it does feel a little gross, but it also feels really good.
She feels good.
Riley's tongue is pressing against her tongue, and their lips are still moving somehow, and it's a little messy and a little gross, but it's also so good.
She likes it.
Her hand is under Riley's shirt, it's on the skin of her back.
Her skin is so warm, she's all so warm.
Is that the fever, or because they're kissing?
Does it matter?
No, it doesn't matter.
Her skin is warm, her mouth is warm, and her breath is warm.
Ellie likes it.
She likes Riley.
She likes this.
It's too much.
It's all way too much.
Ellie can't get close enough, she can't touch enough, she can't crawl under Riley's skin and wrap herself around her bones.
If they keep doing this, if they keep kissing, when the cordyceps takes over, will their mycelium strands just wrap around each other?
Go into each other?
It's too much.
Ellie's fingers are in Riley's braids, and her palm is on the skin of Riley's shoulders, her shirt rucked up in the back around her arm, and her lips are moving against Riley's lips.
Riley, Riley, Riley.
She's so… Riley.
She smells like dust, sweat, iron, and mango lotion.
How does she always manage to find more mango lotion?
Every night, she would ration the stuff into her hands and rub it on her elbows, knees, and feet.
If she still had some left on her hands, she would chase Ellie around the room and rub it on her too.
Ellie liked going to bed smelling like mango lotion, like Riley.
Then Riley left.
She didn't change her sheets for the first two weeks because they still smelled a little like mangoes.
A little like Riley.
Then the matron caught on the next time laundry day came around and stood there and watched while Ellie stripped them from her bed.
Stupid matron, fuck her.
Ellie went to bed that night, and it was like Riley had left her a second time.
She hadn't cried.
But if she had cried, no one was there to see it, especially not Riley.
Ellie's kissing her, and she doesn't know what to do.
She feels like she wants to do more, but she isn't sure what more is.
It makes her mad.
She kisses harder, her teeth clacking against Riley's.
Riley huffs, and suddenly she's pulling Ellie to straddle her lap. Her knees to either side of her hips.
Ellie freezes for a moment, not sure what to do.
But Riley is still kissing her, and now the hand on her hip is sliding up Ellie's side, and her fingers are climbing the ladder of her ribs.
Ellie's breath catches, and her body is awash with heat, and she knows that her face has to be red.
It should be embarrassing, but it isn't.
She likes this, she likes Riley.
She wants more.
She pulls back and looks down at Riley.
Riley looks up at her. Her breathing is ragged, her pupils are big, and her lips are swollen.
Ellie feels Riley's hand on her ribs, her thumb grazing the skin right under her sports bra, her other fingers tensing against her side.
It's the hand she has the bite on.
It's pressed against her skin.
Is it trembling? Is it trembling because of the fungus, or is it trembling because of what they're doing?
Does it matter?
She leans forward and presses her mouth against Riley's.
She's warm.
Her skin.
Her mouth.
Her breath.
Is it because she has a fever?
It doesn't matter.
She kisses her; her lips are dry but a little moist too.
Ellie likes this, she likes Riley, she likes…
"Riley." She whispers, pulling away, her forehead pressing against Riley's.
"Yeah?" Riley whispers back.
"I like this."
"Me too."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Riley." She says again, even softer.
"Yeah?" Riley asks back, softer too.
"I love you," Ellie whispers.
"I love you too," Riley whispers back.
Ellie loves this.
She loves Riley.
She loves doing this.
Ellie kisses her, and she thinks maybe it won't be so bad being infected. Maybe as long as they're together, it won't be so bad.
Maybe they'll just merge together, and they won't even try to infect other people.
Maybe they'll meld to the display case where they danced and kissed for the first time.
Where Riley chose her and said they'd figure it out together.
Riley kisses Ellie back, and her hand moves up her side, and Ellie thinks maybe dying, turning, won't be that bad.
Maybe it won't be that bad as long as they're together.
Maybe it was meant to be.
Riley kisses her, and Ellie kisses back.
Written by a human in Ellipsus.