hi!! I love your stories! 💞 Could you please write a fluffy Donna x maid, where the maid is already starting to develop feelings for Donna (unbeknownst to our favourite doll maker lmao), maybe causing her to be a bit more clumsy and flustered than she usually is. Which makes her end up injuring herself somehow (nothing serious but still enough to make Donna concerned) and when Donna is patching her up maybe that's when she has this realization "oh shit, I think I like her"
have a great day/night!!
Yess!!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))
Your clumsy love
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Maid! Reader
Warnings: fluff, insecurities…
Word count: 5,511
Summary: Your love is starting to make you so clumsy…
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours :))) I love you all!!!
“On second thought, maybe I need a maid…”
That phrase had been going through your head over and over again for a while. The softness of her low, husky voice was something you couldn't get out of your mind.
You, an ordinary girl from the village, raised and educated to serve, were lucky.
You could have ended up like so many of your friends, in the Dimitrescu castle, maybe in the reservoir or in that horrible factory, but no. Your skills were average, nothing extraordinary, nothing the Lords were dying to have. Lady Dimitrescu had more maids than she could handle with, Lord Moreau had no maids, but experiments, and Heisenberg, well, better not to think about what he was doing in that horrible place.
You only had two options left: resign yourself and wait your turn in the castle, or try something that seemed impossible: enter the depths of the forest, into the lands of the most mysterious Lord, the doll maker, Donna Beneviento.
No one in the village was able to tell you exactly what she looked like. You had heard legends, you had seen those porcelain dolls in many people's homes, but no one who had gotten close to Donna had been able to return. You were always reckless.
A monster, a giant and evil doll, the worst visions of your past... What you expected to find when you arrived at that waterfall had nothing to do with what was really there. There was a woman, a seemingly normal one, but with a certain mystery, and a living doll.
She was not a monster, nor a fish, nor a madman, nor a vampire. She was just a woman dressed completely in black, with her face covered by a veil and little desire for company.
Crazy, deranged, dangerous... The adjectives that the villagers gave to the Lord should be more than enough to make you fear for your life, but you didn't. Maybe Mother Miranda was looking out for you, or maybe not. To get Donna to hire you as her maid, her only maid, was not difficult for you.
If you could summarize your first weeks on the estate, only one word was in your head: Silence.
Sometimes you had the sensation of cleaning an empty house, of cooking for a ghost, a wandering spirit that passed by you from time to time, without saying a word, without looking at you.
At least you weren't Moreau's experiment.
That comfort accompanied you every night when you got into bed and reflected on the situation you found yourself in. Donna wasn't complaining. She wasn't talking to you. To her, it was almost as if you didn't exist. The Angie doll only served as a reminder that you had not lost your mind, that you had not disappeared. No, you were there. You were a maid, her maid.
Over time, seeing that ghost in mourning became a hobby for you. You knew her routines, her schedules. Without realizing it, you began to become addicted to the way she walked, to the air that lifted her dress whens he passed by you. Maybe it was due to the flowers, or maybe it was boredom. You didn't know and you didn't want to know either.
But everything changed the night your mistress suffered a terrible nervous breakdown. Okay, the villagers weren't lying. Her mind was troubled and hurt, but at least she was no longer alone. Thinking that you, only you, were the only person who could help her calm down began to make you feel important, indispensable.
Calming words, soft songs and a warm bath… That was your way of acting with Donna's loss of connection with the real world. The veil on her face disappeared at that moment and you, who had already imagined that woman in the portrait as a horrible monster, had to bite your tongue. No, she wasn't a monster, she was beautiful and you were dying to tell her.
“My lady, are you feeling better?” You asked, helping the lady in black out of the bathtub. No, it was definitely not the time for your eyes to wander over her body, but they couldn't help but do so.
Donna simply nodded, letting you wrap a towel around her as sobs remained the only sounds she made.
“Thank you...” It wasn't your imagination. It was a whisper coming from her lips.
For some reason that word made something inside you stir. But then again, it wasn't the time to think about those chills you felt when you were around her.
Carefully, you sat the lady in front of a mirror. Her gaze was fixed on the floor while you did what you thought you had to do.
“Is it okay if I comb your hair, my lady? I can leave you alone if you want,” you asked kindly, with an almost motherly voice. Donna shook her head and grabbed your wrist tightly, too tightly.
“Don't leave me alone, or they will catch me,” she said with a trembling voice, with a scared expression and her body still trembling under that towel.
You could have tried to reason with her, make her see that there was no one there or anyone who could harm her, that she was safe. You didn’t do it. A horrible feeling passed through your body, the feeling charged with adrenaline and courage that made you imagine a possible scenario in which something threatened your mistress and... Well, that you were the only one who could save her. You definitely needed to rethink the things you were feeling.
“No one will harm you, my lady. Not while I'm here,” you said, raising her head slightly so she was looking at the mirror as you grabbed a brush from the dresser.
“Really?” She asked, looking at you out of the corner of her eye, flashing a smile.
“Really,” you confirmed, smiling too, placing her black hair behind her shoulders and combing it delicately.
While you did so, you hummed a song, the same one that had managed to calm her inconsolable crying. It was a strange moment, but a relaxing one.
“Why do you call me my lady?” She asked with a soft voice, making you stop, with your cheeks blushing.
“Because I’m your maid,” you said in a soft voice, finishing arranging her hair correctly.
“I don't like it,” she said with a more severe tone, frowning.
“No? Well, I… I can style your hair differently if you want,” you said confused. She shook her head, taking your wrist again.
“No. I don't like it when you call me my lady,” she explained, releasing your hand and lowering her head again.
“Oh, okay...” You said, scratching the back of your neck, confused. “Do you prefer Lady Beneviento?”
“Do you know what the castle maids call their mistress?” She asked, covering herself better with the towel, as if she had just realized how exposed she was. You opened your mouth to say something, but you realized it.
“Lady Dimitrescu, I guess,” you said with an amused tone. Donna nodded slowly.
“Do I look like her?” the lady asked, confusing you even more.
“The truth is that... Not much,” you said embarrassed, afraid that it wasn't the answer she was expecting.
“Well, don't call me like her,” she said sternly, with a hard and cold expression, far from the subtle smile of a few moments ago.
“Okay... I'm sorry,” you apologized, starting to feel uncomfortable.
“Would you like her to call you maid?” She asked again, squeezing her towel with white knuckles. You, not really knowing what to do, shook your head.
“I prefer (Y/N),” you said, almost in a whisper.
“I prefer Donna,” she whispered, looking at you through the mirror. You nodded.
“Okay, Donna…”
After that night everything changed. No, nothing changed.
Your mistress was still a wandering soul with whom you barely collided. Her black veil covered her face again as if it were a cruel irony. When she was weak, scared or disturbed, she didn't care about you looking at her face. When she was calm, her complexes were too much for her. Curious.
It only took one more week for everything to change. Apparently that wandering soul was no longer so wandering. When you finished your tasks, reading was the only thing you could do. The solitude and tranquility of the sound of the waterfall were drowned out by the sound of her heels on the wood. Like a helpless animal, studying the terrain before approaching, Donna began to read with you, far from you at first and increasingly closer.
“Where are you going?” Donna asked when you served her food.
Normally she ate alone, so she ordered it to you. That day her words made you stop in place, turning slowly towards the lady in black, already without her black veil.
“I…I…” you stammered. “Well, it's time to eat and…”
“Sit down, please,” Donna asked kindly, pointing with her hand to the chair in front of her.
You weren't used to that, but you accepted, fearful. There was a moment of tension. You were there, sitting, not really knowing what to do. Donna ate quietly, as if you weren't there, until she put the spoon in the soup and looked up.
“Why are you still here?” She asked without looking at your face, with an accusatory tone.
“What?” You asked, with your forehead sweaty as your legs trembled, endangering the plates on the table. “Sorry but... I don't understand the question. You asked me to…”
“No, (Y/N), why are you still my maid?” The lady asked again, with her gaze colder, as if she were analyzing your expression.
“Why not?” You asked involuntarily, too abruptly.
“Don't you have eyes on your face? Look at me...” She said with a sharp voice, with anger in her eye.
“I…I…”
“I'm a monster,” she finally said, crossing her arms. “Why do you want to continue working for a monster?”
“You're not a monster, Donna,” you said with a serious tone, frowning.
“Do you know why I have never had maids?” The doll maker asked, leaning on the table, with that studious look not wanting to move from yours.
You didn't respond. You just shook your head.
“Because when they saw how I am... They ran away,” she explained, her voice cracking and her knuckles white again.
“What nonsense,” you said, a bit nervous.
“Does it seem nonsense to you?” She asked, leaning back.
“No, Well... I mean that... You are, you are a beautiful woman,” you stuttered, noticing the heat that your blush caused on your cheeks.
“Liar,” she said, looking away from you.
“It's not a lie,” you said, searching your mind for a way to fix that situation. “My uncle Iulian, that was a real monster.”
“Your uncle?” She asked curiously, with a strange look. You nodded.
“Yes, well... He had a huge nose. I remember that when he had to take care of me I avoided looking at his shadow on the wall. I thought that one day he would be able to absorb me,” you said erratically.
“Absorb you,” the woman in black repeated, confused by your ramblings.
“Yes, you know...” you said, making a sniffing gesture with your nose and smiling innocently. Donna stared at you and raised her eyebrow.
Just when you were about to faint from your clumsiness with words, Lady Beneviento's face changed, she relaxed and her mouth began to form a smile.
That smile came a wider one and her body shook as a shy laugh filled the walls of the room. It didn't seem like something so stupid would amuse your lady, but apparently, it did, and quite a bit.
Hearing her laughing, really laughing, was one of the reasons why your feelings became more and more confused.
From that moment on, as if it had been some kind of psychological barrier that had been broken down with a comment and an absurd joke, the relationship between you and Donna changed, changed completely.
There was no longer a trace of the veil and it was much more common to see her smile with anything you said. Everything seemed fine, correct. Your work and your integrity were not in danger, but there was something that was, your mind.
Every night you imagined her face, her smile, her voice... It was your particular way of sleeping, wishing to dream of her once again, to be able to see her in your dreams. You didn't need to wish it. Donna had been accompanying you in them for a long time, always with that smile, with that look. You were already lost, unable to think why of all the people you knew, you had to fall in love with her.
Like an addict denying its problem, your conscience told you over and over again that it wasn't love, just friendship, or attachment. That your loneliness had made the need to be loved coincide with the lady in black; just attachment, nothing else.
To acknowledge it would be to admit that you had lost your mind, it would be to admit that it hurt you to think about living without her. You were addicted to Donna, and you were unable to even admit it.
“Tea time, stupid!” A shrill scream made you grimace in disgust. Of course, the Angie doll was always there to interrupt you in your downtime, to interrupt your reading, a reading in which the characters were no longer themselves. You and Donna were the protagonists of the books, you and your impossible love that always came true.
“Yes, yes, I'm coming...” You said sighing and leaving the book at the best part, in which they were finally, or rather, you and Donna were going to kiss each other.
While you boiled the water, you kept thinking about that story, about that kiss. You wondered what it would be like to kiss her, what it would be like to have that intoxicating lavender perfume so close to you. You no longer only dreamed about her while you were sleeping, you had taken to doing it while awake as well.
“Excuse me. I'll bring you tea,” you said, carrying the tray into the workshop where your mistress spent the time. She left her work and looked at you with that smile, with that damn smile.
“Thank you, (Y/N), you're always so punctual,” she said amused, moving away from the table so you could leave the tray on it.
With your heart beating fast and your hands trembling, you did so, quickly retreating before you got lost in the sensation of your dress brushing against hers.
“Well, with Angie it's hard not to be,” you joked, pulling back and putting your hands together in front of your body in a politely way.
Donna laughed, shaking her head.
“Yes, I guess you're right,” she said amused, looking at the cup you had served her and frowning.
“There is something wrong?” You asked nervously, looking over her shoulder to try to make out the source of her strange look.
“No, there's nothing wrong, (Y/N). Or rather, there is nothing,” Donna whispered, gesturing for you to come closer.
You obeyed, making a superhuman effort to move your legs. You almost had a fit when you saw where the problem was.
“Oh, wow... I...” You said embarrassed, checking how there was only hot water in that cup. Not a trace of tea.
“Normally tea is darker, don't you think?” Donna said with a normal tone, but inevitably amused, at your expense.
“Yes, I... Oh, I don't know what I was thinking... I'm so sorry,” you said, hurriedly grabbing the cup, accidentally causing your hand to collide with hers. The soft touch of her skin on yours was more than enough to make you freeze in place, even more so when Donna didn't seem to want to let your hand go.
“Calm down, (Y/N). I like hot water,” she said without taking her eyes off yours, without taking her hand away from yours. You wouldn't be able to tell if the caress you noticed was your imagination or if, on the contrary, it really happened.
Surely you had imagined it. You had been imagining things like that for too long.
“No, please, I… Oh, come on, let me make you some real tea,” you said hastily. Donna removed the cup from your hand, setting it down on the table and looking at you curiously.
“It's not necessary,” she said softly, stirring the water with a spoon. “If you bring me a slice of lemon I will be happy to drink it.”
You closed your eyes, trying to make the red tone of your cheeks fade a bit.
“I... Okay, okay,” you muttered before turning around and disappearing from the workshop, cursing under your breath about your sudden clumsiness.
The following days were no better. That clumsiness continued to manifest itself. Broken vases, smashed dishes, silly knocks against furniture… Everything inevitably coincided with the presence of your mistress, with a greeting, with a kind word. Whenever Donna was around, your body did everything it could to embarrass you.
It was already too much to bear and finally, during one of those nights of imagining your love story, you took the first step to cure your addiction, admit it.
“I'm in love with you...” You whispered, covering yourself with the sheets. No one was there to hear you confess an irremediable truth, only the dim light of the moon and the old walls of the house. You wished that whisper had reached her ears. You needed it before you completely lost your mind.
“Hello, (Y/N), I hope I’m not bothering you,” Donna said, interrupting one of the many fantasies you imagined with her while you were cooking. Out of shock, you put a hand on your chest and turned around.
“Oh, Donna, you’ve scared me,” you said nervously, frustrated because, every time you imagined your love story, you never got to kiss her, there was always something that interrupted it.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to,” she said politely, moving closer to you.
“Did you want something?” You asked, brushing off your apron to avoid looking at that glowing smile, to stop daydreaming.
“No, I was just coming to see you,” she replied, leaning on the counter casually.
“Oh, I…” You said, embarrassed again, playing with your apron. No, (Y/N), it's not what you think. It will never be what you think.
“What are you cooking?” She asked, looking at the oven with curiosity.
“Well, I... I was making...” You said proudly, noticing an unbearable itch in your throat, which led to a horrible cough.
Suddenly, your vision cleared, or rather, darkened due to the black smoke that you began to make out in the kitchen. How long have you been fantasizing?
“Oh, shit... No, no, no,” you said hurriedly, opening the oven and checking that there was no food, but a tray with something black on it. “Oh, no…”
“It looks like you burned it,” the lady in black joked while you removed that culinary aberration with the help of a couple of rags.
You lowered your head in shame and nodded.
“I'm so sorry...” You murmured, wanting to cry and scream at the same time, which intensified when you noticed a hand on your shoulder and the smell of lavender very close to you.
“(Y/N), you've been a little distracted lately, is there something worrying you?” Donna asked, with that softness that made you lose your mind again.
As expected, your body saved you again, shaking your head.
“No, I... I guess, I guess it's a rough patch... I'm so sorry, Donna, I'll prepare something else for you right away,” you said, suppressing the urge you had to kick the oven. The woman in black laughed amused at your erratic attitude and her grip on your shoulder intensified.
“Don't worry, we all have bad days. Let me cook today,” she said, amused, with that shyness that her smile always revealed. In a movement too quick for you to enjoy, she untied your apron, putting it on herself.
“Oh, no, no, no. This… No, that's not right,” you said, grabbing her arms, nervous and embarrassed. She looked at you curiously. “I mean, no, you don't have to cook... That, that's my job.”
“Tell me, (Y/N), who am I?” She asked with her eye shining with amusement.
“You? Well…”
“Who are you to me?” She asked again, taking a frying pan from its hook.
You would have liked to say so many things... But, unfortunately, there was only one possible answer.
“Your, your maid...” You sighed, unable to hide the tone of disappointment implicit in your words.
“Correct, (Y/N), and what do maids do when their mistress asks them for something?”
“Obey...” You murmured, looking away from her, confused, nervous, and madly in love.
“Exactly, so obey me and bring me some tomatoes. Then, go to rest,” she ordered you.
Again, again your mind playing tricks on you. In your progressive madness, you had gotten used to imagining gestures of affection, caresses, kisses on the cheek… But, that time, when her hand went up to your face, passing over it quickly, but noticeably, you began to doubt whether it had really happened, or whether you were beginning to have difficulty distinguishing reality from fantasies.
“Come on, (Y/N), you have to forget about that. It's never going to happen. You are the only girl in the village who is attracted to women, what makes you think that she...? Oh, I think, I think I’m going to have a heart attack...” You mumbled, walking from one side of the house to the other as you eagerly awaited lunch.
The noise of the elevator made you stop talking to yourself. You were starting to do dangerous things. You didn't know when the Angie doll was stalking you, if she had heard your words. You were so, so in love.
“Here, buon appetito,” the woman in black said, placing a steaming plate in front of you. The smell of that pasta made you close your eyes. Maybe it was because of hunger, or maybe it was because you were going to eat something she had made.
“Wow, that's...” You murmured, contemplating the unknown mastery your mistress had in the kitchen as she poured you a glass of wine. “It looks excellent.”
“I hope you like it, (Y/N),” she said, smiling at your amazement.
“I didn't know you knew how to cook. I mean, I… Well, I have friends in the castle and according to them anything resembling a kitchen is unknown to the Dimitrescu family,” you said, dipping your fork into the food, to see if it was as good as it looked.
Donna laughed with a blush on her cheek due to your compliment. That shy giggle was going to finish you off.
“I can confirm that it’s true,” she said amused, watching how you devoured what she had prepared for you.
“It's... I don't know how to describe it... It's delicious,” you sighed, with a mixture of satisfaction and shame. “You are very good at cooking.”
“I learned when I was very young. I guess when you're so alone it's a good way to spend the time,” she explained, now in a more normal tone.
“Compared to this, my cooking is mediocre,” you said, shaking your head.
“Don't say that. I like the things you cook,” she said, interrupting your self-pity. “Believe me, if I didn't like them, I wouldn't have let you set a foot in my kitchen.”
“I guess that's good...” You said, smiling at those kind words.
“Of course,” she said, nodding.
The meal passed calmly, too calmly.
Your feelings were already burning in your chest, dying to come out or disappear. Your clumsiness was still the protagonist in your life and your nervousness at being so close to her worsened to such a point that you were unable to stop shaking in her presence. Luckily, Donna didn't seem to notice that.
“Would you like to take a walk with me? It's a wonderful day” That phrase, that proposition, was the last straw.
You, who were clearing the table, froze, rooted to the ground with trembling hands.
“A walk?” You asked, sounding too calm, having learned to hide your feelings with your voice. A shame you couldn't do it with your body.
The woman in black nodded, helping you with the plates.
“Yes, I would like to show you the grounds,” she said in an indifferent tone. Donna was oblivious to what that proposal meant to you, unfortunately.
Your body trembled before that smiling gaze and your hands became weak, causing, with a loud and unpleasant crash, the plates you were carrying in your hand to fall to the floor breaking into a thousand pieces.
“Ah!” You shouted, scared and of course, embarrassed again. “I, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” you said hastily, bending down to pick up the pieces.
Donna approached worried. You didn't know if it was because of the dishes, or because of the nervous breakdown you were about to have.
“(Y/N)...” She murmured with a soft voice, a hand on your shoulder.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...” You repeated over and over again, unable to control your nerves. You spent too much time being clumsy, doing things wrong. Just thinking that at any moment Donna would fire you made your heart and stomach clench.
“Wait, (Y/N),” she said, grabbing your wrist as you stood up to disappear from the room as soon as possible.
“Don’t, don't fire me, please... I'm sorry, I'm really sorry...” You sobbed, not being able to control your emotions.
“What are you taking about? Your arm, you're hurt...” Donna whispered, forcing you not to pull her grip and showing you the reason for her concern.
You hadn't realized it, but one of the pieces cut your arm. The wetness of the blood on your dress and the sting of the wound had gone completely unnoticed by you.
“Angie, bring the first aid kit,” the lady in black said, taking the pieces that you were carrying in your hand and leaving them on the table, dragging you to a sofa.
“No, it's okay. I'm fine,” you said, wiping away your tears as your mistress lifted the sleeve of your dress, revealing the terrible cut.
“No, (Y/N), I'm going to heal you,” she said sternly, turning to the small briefcase her doll brought.
“I'm, I'm useless...” You sobbed, repressing the sting of the alcohol on your wound, crying, not because of the pain, but because of your attitude, for letting your feelings turn you into clumsiness personified.
“Don't say that,” Donna whispered, gently cleaning your wound.
“Yes, I am... Lately I've been doing nothing but... Screwing things up,” you said, now letting out a bit of your frustration. “You must think I'm stupid...”
“I don’t think you’re stupid,” she said dryly, without looking away from your wound.
Silence reigned again, reminding you of those early days when Donna, your Donna, was nothing but a ghost to you.
Your wound, now clean and disinfected, was no longer the center of attention of the brunette, who, with her caresses, walked around it, with a lost gaze, as if she had disconnected her mind and was wandering freely, letting herself go. .
“Forgive me, Donna...” You said, calmer. “I’m not fit to be your maid.”
She didn't respond, just shook her head. Her expression was different, sad but curious at the same time. Her hand left your skin to lift your chin slightly, making your gazes coincide.
You didn't say, you didn't do anything, you just got lost in her gaze, in her bright eye, in the warmth of her skin against yours. It was a moment like those you had dreamed of. You even thought that at any moment you were going to wake up.
“I don't want you to go,” she whispered, abandoning your chin and cupping your cheek with her hand.
You were left breathless, enjoying that sensation, that affection that you longed for so much. They were still fantasies, but, for some reason, that seemed very real to you, too real.
“I don't know why you would want to have a maid like me...” You said shaking your head, letting your hand join hers, causing a timid gasp from the woman in black, but that didn't stop her from continuing her caresses.
“Why would you want to be my maid?” She asked back. It seemed like an innocent, reassuring question, but it wasn't at all. You knew her expressions. Something, there was something that was tormenting her.
“Because I...” You said, closing your eyes again, losing yourself in her soft caresses, in her lavender scent. “I wouldn't know what to do if I'm not with you.”
“Do you like being here with me?” She asked again, this time, removing her hand.
You had already begun an inevitable descent to your doom. At least you could say that you wouldn't lose without trying. Simply taking a breath, you nodded.
“I always wait to see you appear through the door, to see you smile. I think of absurd questions or conversations just so I can hear your voice, Donna...” You confessed, feeling an intoxicating relief at expressing what you felt, or trying to.
Lady Beneviento sighed in confusion, looking at you curiously, as if an undeniable truth had fallen right on her shoulders.
“Do I make you feel those things?” She asked, like a little girl curious about the world around her. She couldn't be that naive, could she?
“Just look at you,” you said, angry for being unable to confess your love clearly, for being unable to make her understand that you loved her in a subtle way. No, with Donna that would never work. She blinked in confusion. “You are, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen and… I… I…”
“Do you think I'm beautiful?” She asked with a shy smile crossing her face.
You simply nodded. She looked at you again, with a strange expression, as if she were scared of something.
“Stop...looking at me like that,” you said, feeling how your chest was burning with rage, how you had complicated that situation on your own, waiting for rejection, the final blow to your little maid adventure.
“I like looking at you,” she said, frowning, defensively. “You are beautiful too.”
“What?” You asked confused, startled by that unexpected statement.
“You know what? When, when I saw that you were hurt, I... I, I felt bad,” Donna said, stammering, lowering her hand to take yours, to play with it on her nervousness. “Just imagining that something bad could happen to you... I, I've gotten very nervous.”
“Donna...” You whispered, not understanding her words, not understanding why she had not left you when you confessed your love, well, when you tried to confess it to her.
“I thought it was just... Just a strange feeling for being so alone but... When, when you told me what you felt... I realized that I feel the same way about you.”
“The same? I don't believe it,” you said sobbing, wanting to end that torture, wanting to leave the estate and never return.
“Sometimes I imagine how... What it would be like... to kiss you,” she whispered in a low voice, with her sweaty hand still playing with yours. That made you open your eyes suddenly.
“I imagine it too,” you said, with an involuntary smile crossing your face.
“I'd like to stop imagining it,” she said, leaning towards you, fear still shining in her eye.
“Please...” You said, unable to hold back your tears.
The distance between you slowly closed. Your lips rested on hers, staying there, without moving, enjoying the wet contact, the sensations that you imagined so much, that you fantasized about so much. It wasn't a romantic or passionate kiss. It was a chaste and simple kiss that didn't last long, but it was enough to make your body want more, many more.
“I'm in love with you, Donna...” You confessed, still very close to her lips, caressing her hair lovingly, like that time you helped her when she lost her nerve.
“I've never felt this way about anyone...” She whispered, inadvertently ignoring your confession. “I couldn't tell you if I'm in love with you.”
That was enough for you to relax, to think that maybe you were wrong and that your fantasies would soon come true.
“Kiss me again, please...” You begged, pulling your head so that your lips collided again, this time more intensely, moving, caressing each other.
Donna pulled away slowly, squeezing her eye shut tightly, staying close to you, but not kissing you, as if she had just had a revelation.
“What's wrong?” You asked, worried that you had made the biggest mistake of your life.
“If it is love what I’m feeling, I want it to never end.”
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