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“I think we’re alone now,” Kara sings quietly, her voice low and beautiful as it winds around Lena, making her breath catch in her throat. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone around. I think we’re alone now, the beating of our hearts is the only sound.”
Lena hadn’t particularly liked the song when she had first heard it, thinking it was just another over-produced piece of ‘80s bubblegum-pop. But as Kara’s low voice croons the simple words in the still of the night, her fingertips brushing over Lena’s hip and her breath warm against her shoulder, Lena finds herself reconsidering her stance.
She just might have a new favorite song.
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(or, four times Lena sees Kara drunk, feat. two fluff-filled sleepovers, and one big weepy, messy confession.)
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