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It is a game that they like to play.
It started off as a simple pastime, spontaneously invented on one laid-back afternoon just like this. Over the months it became a sort of ritual. Their ritual. Their little bubble of contentment. It didn’t matter where they engaged in it, didn’t matter how long. You could say that it was yet another way they communicated. Just the two of them. With each other…
An earphone for each, snuggled closely, their height difference placing her head conveniently and comfortably against the other’s collar bone. Eyes roaming and gazing into the distance, focusing and unfocusing on nothing in particular. The iPod is leisurely balanced on the blonde’s thigh, so that the brunette can easily access it as well with the daintiest of touches.
And maybe her fingers would subsequently slide down the curve of Quinn’s toned skin. And then she would feel a similar sensation echoed by a different set of fingertips against her own upper arm. The corners of Rachel’s mouth would quirk up and her head would turn just slightly. Just slightly, so that she could nuzzle the fabric of the blonde’s shirt against her cheek.
She really loves this game. As the last notes of Norah Jones drift off, it is Quinn’s turn to choose. The blonde’s fingers turn in an elegant, yet deliberate motion on the device’s control dial. Rachel’s peripheral vision catches sight of lips being pursed briefly, and as a new melody fills their ears it takes her only a moment to identify the track. A track of a different genre, yet contrary to what one might expect – a track of no overt contrast.
And as the chorus resonates, Rachel feels up-turned lips press gently against her bangs; she can feel the warm breath brush against the skin of her forehead. She cannot hold back the grin that stretches across her mouth nor the slightly pitched sigh of content.
She really, really loves this game. They tend to spend entire afternoons this way, enjoying each other’s presence and playing music to one another. Better yet: caressing, embracing, nuzzling… She takes a deep breath, eyes closing, and revels in that last thought as the blonde’s scent fills her nostrils.
When Rachel’s eyes eventually fluttered open, they glide down to the small rectangular display.
It is her turn again.