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Summary
Yoonji inhaled deeply, lashes fluttering closed. She held the smoke longer than Jimin was expecting, Jimin counting the seconds until Yoonji blew it out. The smoke lingered around them, mixing with the fog of the city's pollution.
“What brought you to a club, baby dyke?”
“How'd you guess?” Jimin replied, blush creeping up her neck and along her face.
“This gives it away real quick,” Yoonji slurred, tapping Jimin's flushed cheek. “You just look new and overwhelmed. Like a baby doe. What are those called? Fawns, right. You just got that fawn look.”
“Is that bad?” Jimin said quietly.
Yoonji shrugged, inhaling again, holding, exhaling, breasts heaving with the action. “Unless you /want/ to be eaten.”