Everything’s normal. You’re **just friends**. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself as you straddle her hips and crash your lips against hers. The two of you got drunk as hell…. Again, and started making out….. **again**. It was getting out of hand at this point, the giving each other hickeys, kissing, feeling each other up…. But you’re just friends, it doesn’t mean anything….. right? It doesn’t take long for her to trail kisses down your jaw, to your neck, rolling the two of you over so she was on top of you. The bed creaked at the movement, and you were vaguely aware of your leg slipping off, before-