"You shagged him then," Thelma stated as she flicked the page of her magazine, pretending not to care as Cassie shrugged off last night's clothes.
"What do you care," Cassie stated back in the same bored monotone.
"Of course I care who my best friend is sleeping with, especially if it's the not so angelic herald of the apocalypse who, more importantly, is a right wanker."
Cassie reached up to unhook her bra, turning to Thelma as she slipped it from her shoulders, giving her a knowing look when she quickly reverted her attention back to the magazine.
"No, you care who I'm fucking because it's not you."
Thelma raised her eyes, glaring defiantly at a perfume ad. "You know that's bollocks."
"Is it?" Cassie asked, fingers toying with the waistband of her knickers, trying to catch Thelma's attention.
"Are you going to tell me you don't dream about this? You've made me dream it enough. The day where I finally realise I want you like you want me to want you."
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