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A confession of flowers

Dahlia lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep, her mind occupied with what transpired between Lorenzo and her. She didn't expect it to end that way. She expected to just tease him and leave as she usually did, but he had played along, and she couldn't deny how affected she was.

It had been hours since their encounter, and yet she still felt the tingling and electrifying sensation zap through her anytime she thought of him.

She was restless, so restless, angry even. How dare he? She felt like going back to him to pay him back, but she decided against it. She didn't want him to think of her as desperate... Wait! Since when did she begin to care about such?

She wondered why she was even feeling this way. It wasn't as if she was new to these intimate acts, but she just found him different from the others. Perhaps it was because she was only playing back then.

She was mostly always locked in, and the few times that she managed to step out, she would always want to explore.

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