I got the idea for this when I heard the song Obsession by Sky Ferreira. It turned out fluffier than I intended but I hope you enjoy it!


You've known her for about ten years and you're obsessed with her. You love watching her. It doesn't matter what she's doing you love to watch her. She moves with balance and an athlete's grace, thanks to years of basketball and her recent interest in volleyball. It's made her body irresistible, better than Heather Morris. And Heather Morris is your idol.

Right now is probably one of your favorite moments. Your brother just dropped you off because you still have one more year till you can drive. Any other of her friends would've come up the back porch and tried that door. But you know if would be locked, even though it leads into the living room. You get to the door, the door you know is always unlocked, and stop. You just pause, turning around. The dog runs towards you, licking and your feet and you groan and push it away. You hate dogs, but you can't help but smile. You know the dog is her baby and she kisses it (you always make her rinse her mouth with mouthwash and chew about three pieces of gum, cause you don't want to kiss that mouth, no matter how beautiful it is). You look around the insanely huge yard and up the brick building and up at her window. You laugh for the thousandth time at the shed with her name painted on it. You laugh because she was young and forgot how to spell her name, leaving out a 's' and in an attempt to fix it, put x2 beside the first 's'. You walk in, immediately hit by the wood smell that stinks, but smells good at the same time. You slip off your boots, pulling off your coat and scarf, leaving you in an old t-shirt, jeans, and socks. You glance at the old couch that has a million stains from where you, her, and her sister have had late night movies viewings and spilled your drinks. It was the place you first admitted your feelings for her and the first place she kissed you. You walk up the stairs, out of the dusty basement, and into the nicer part of the house. You're hit by the sound of music as you get to the main floor. You walk into the dining room, standing behind the couch. You watch as she dances around the living room, singing along to the huge radio on top of the piano, which is playing her favorite song. She's dressed in just a wife beater and pink boxer briefs that she loves using for shorts and all you can see is long, sun-kissed legs and you've never thought something has every looked so beautiful. You just watch for a moment, breath gone from your body. She never lets you see her dance or hear her sing. You're caught up in the way her hips move, the way she moves her feet, never out of place and who the hell cares about Heather Morris, your girlfriend is hot. You're caught up in the way her voice sounds, trying to sound like Adele, but you think she sound better as herself. You finally grow restless just standing and watching and pull yourself over the couch, knowing if she were here, her mom would scold you like she would her own children. You move silently, able to slide over the hardwood in your socks, not making a sound. Just as she hits the final chorus, your hands find her hips, pulling her towards you. She jumps and you get a face full of hair as she turns her head to see who it is. She calms when she sees it's you, you rest your mouth against her bare shoulder, and she tries to stop dancing. "Keep going." You mutter against the warm skin, feeling her shiver as your lips and tongue move with your words. There's nothing sexual about the way you are moving, your front is against her back, but hips stay apart and that's what sad. Her just innocently resting against you fills you with want and desire and it can't be healthy. You both finally stop when an upbeat song comes on and you're using your height to hug her from behind. She's not short, you're just tall and hugging her from behind makes you feel right and it so intimate because you hugged before you dated, but never like this. She leans her head back and you lift yours up, kissing her gently. It's awkward and hurts your neck, but the fact that your mouths are opposite, your top lip against her bottom one makes her giggle into the kiss. She bumps her butt into your hips and you fall onto the couch. You use the force of the fall to turn her and pull her into your lap. She kisses you again, this one normal, and you feel so content as the soft lips move against yours. She ends the kiss, resting her forehead on yours. "Hi."
"Hi." You smile. She pouts. "You're hands are still kind of cold." You mumble a sorry, knowing she really doesn't care. You hear her older sister come out of her room and before she disappears into the basement, she makes a loud whipping sound.

You both laugh and you pull her down, to where you're lying down, cuddling. She talks excitedly about the up coming basketball game, breath tickling your neck, and you don't even bother to answer when she asks you if you'll be there, cause she knows you will. And right now, you could care less that the only people that know she's yours are her sister, your grandma, and your brother. It doesn't matter that none of the flirty guys at school know that this beauty is yours. You're just content with knowing she's yours and you're hers.