Angel's POV
  The first time I came because of someone—it was Sandra.
  She never even touched me.
  Her voice alone undid me. The way she spoke, the softness of her laugh, the stories she told me in quiet, private moments—I used to touch myself to that. The sound of her became my favorite place to hide.
  I was grown enough to know what I wanted, but not bold enough to tell her.
  Not yet.
  That night, I remember locking my door, switching off the lights like I was hiding from the world, like what I was about to do needed to be wrapped in shadows. I slipped out of my jeans, slid my panties to the side, and climbed onto my bed.
  I lay on my back, heart pounding. I pulled the bedsheet over me, as if the weight of the fabric would muffle my guilt, my hunger, my sounds.
  I pressed my left hand over my mouth, biting the inside of my palm to keep the moans from escaping. My right hand slipped between my thighs, my fingers brushing against the soft skin, teasing myself, almost afraid to start. I circled my clit slowly, carefully, like I was savoring every second before I lost control.
  Her voice played in my head, soft and low, the way she used to speak when it was just me and her. I imagined her whispering in my ear, telling me exactly how to touch myself, how she would touch me if she were here.
  A soft moan escaped against my palm...small, shaky, but I didn't stop. I couldn't.
  I pushed two fingers inside, the wet heat of me wrapping around them instantly. My hips jerked a little at the sensation. I bit down harder on my hand to smother the sound. I imagined it wasn't my hand, but hers. I imagined her on top of me, her breath hot against my skin, her fingers knowing exactly how to fill me, how to ruin me.
  I rocked my hips against my hand, chasing that sweet rhythm I always struggled to find on my own. I remembered what she once told me...the way she described the G-spot like it was a secret only she could unlock.
  I curled my fingers and searched for it, driven by her memory. When I found it, the pleasure bloomed so suddenly, so completely, that I almost cried out. My body stiffened as the orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave, stealing the breath from my lungs. My mouth opened, but no sound came out...just desperate, gasping air.
  I came hard. Quickly. My thighs trembled. My stomach clenched. I felt my body pulse around my fingers, hot and aching.
  But even when it passed, I didn't stop. I couldn't. It wasn't enough. I wanted more of her, more of this.
  I started again, my fingers moving faster, slicker, the wet sounds growing louder beneath the sheets. I imagined her lips on my neck, her tongue on my skin, the weight of her body pressing into me, taking her time, teasing me until I was begging for her.
  I built myself back up, wave after wave, chasing that high, desperate to fill the hollow space she left in me. I came again, shuddering this time, my toes curling, my free hand now gripping the bedsheet so tightly I thought it might tear.
  But still, it wasn't enough.
  I wanted the weight of her body.
  I wanted the sound of her breath.
  I wanted the way her fingers would move—not the way I imagined, but the way they actually would.
  I wanted her.
  I kept going until my thighs were slick, my chest heaving, my muscles burning from the effort. My body throbbed with the intensity of it, but I didn't stop until I had nothing left...until I was spent, breathless, shaking.
  Finally, I collapsed into the mattress, dazed, drenched in sweat, my heartbeat thudding in my ears.
  But even in that exhaustion, even in that release, I still felt that empty ache inside me.
  Because no matter how deep my fingers went, no matter how many times I pushed myself over the edge,
  they weren't hers.
  "Angel... Angel..." I heard Sandra calling my name, pulling me back to reality.
  "Are you okay? I've been calling you for ages," she said, her voice laced with worry.
  "Oh... sorry, I was just deep in thought," I said, wishing she had never snapped me out of it.
  A memory I could never, ever forget.
  "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked again, her concern growing.
  "Yes, I'm fine," I said quickly and hurried into the bathroom.
  A few minutes later, I came out. Sandra was sitting on the bed, quietly watching me.
  I walked over and sat beside her. Silence filled the room. It wasn't like me to be this quiet, but honestly.....I was speechless. I had no words, nothing to say.
 
  Sandra's POV
  Miss Taila had left, but Angel hadn't said a single word since. That wasn't like her. Angel would never just sit in silence for no reason. Something was wrong...I could feel it.
  I decided to break the silence.
  "Angel... Angel... Angel... Angel..." I called her name, but she didn't respond.
  What's wrong with her?
  "Angel... Angel," I called again, this time gently tapping her. She finally snapped out of it, like she had been buried deep in her thoughts.
  "Are you okay?" I asked, worried she wasn't.
  "Yes, I'm fine," she replied quickly, then ran into the bathroom. That's when I knew for sure....something was bothering her. I decided to leave her alone for a while so she could pull herself together. I didn't want to push her.
  A few minutes later, she came out of the bathroom and walked over to where I was sitting. She sat beside me quietly.
  I could tell she didn't want to talk about it...not yet. I needed to shift the mood.
  "Isn't today your family dinner?" I asked, trying to change the subject.
  "Yeah... it is," she answered casually.
  "Do you have anything to wear? Are we going shopping?" I kept asking light questions, just trying to cheer her up.
  "No, I already did that," she replied.
  "Without me?" I folded my arms, pretending to be upset.
  She smiled and hugged me. "Girl, you were battling your nightmares....I had to go alone."
  I unfolded my arms and hugged her back.
  "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" I said softly, instead of asking her directly about what was on her mind.