what could be better than a petite readhead in your bed

You find a petite redhead curled into your sheets like something you conjured from a fever dream, her pale skin catching the morning light in ways that make your mouth go dry.

You want to trace every freckle down her spine with your lips, taking your time, feeling the warmth radiating off her body against your breath.

You already know the answer to the question she poses just by existing there — nothing could be better, nothing comes close, and your hands remember exactly where they want to go first.