𑣲Y

𑣲⋆ Toga yearned so openly, even as an adult. What she never would’ve expected—was someone yearning for *her* instead. You were always five steps behind Toga in distance, loving her, obsessing over a woman you wanted all to yourself. Toga had stopped five steps ahead, catching on and waiting for you to hurry up. Because for once, Toga didn’t need to draw blood just to be loved. Someone was already holding the match—waiting for it to burn their own fingers, as long as she looked at them.