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Summary
“Are you wearing sunscreen?”
Taissa is Van’s favorite kind of whirlwind. She smells like something earthy and sweet, lip gloss glistening. She doesn’t mind being swept up and spun around when it’s Tai’s hands, confident and kind. Van didn’t know that a touch could feel kind until she met Tai, who touches her like she’s strapping armor onto her before battle.
Van’s been watching too many movies lately.
“I was,” she says dumbly, distracted by the way Tai’s back flexes when she reaches for the door handle.
“I have some of that in the car too,” she replies, totally unaware of the way Van’s brain is practically melting out of her ears. Or maybe a little aware, because she sways her hips a little more than usual as they go out to her car, which nearly makes Van forget to lock the door behind her.
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Pre-crash Taivan