Quiz Me

Serene and Charlie sit on the couch with that stupid phone, legs tangled, answering every dumb question like it actually matters. They trade quick laughs and deeper digs into what the hell they're doing together, each answer coming straight, no hedging. The quiz spits out its verdict: you're not soulmates. The words land like a gut punch. Charlie swears. Serene stares. The room shrinks around them while fear starts to chew through every memory they have. Then she moves, fast. Hands. Mouth. The kiss is rough, a little desperate. They push and pull at clothes until nothing's between them but sweat and the certainty that some algorithm doesn't know jack about their hearts. Serene shoves Charlie down, straddles her, grinds slow at first then harder. Charlie moans loud enough to rattle the walls while her fingers slide straight inside Serene's cunt, pumping steady while Serene rides the motion like she's trying to fuck the doubt right out of both of them. They switch. Charlie pins Serene's wrists above her head and thrusts two fingers deep, twisting, scissoring. Serene bites her lip until it bleeds and shakes when she comes. They don't stop. They switch again, Charlie on her back with her knees wide, Serene's mouth buried between her legs, sucking her clit while three fingers drive in. Charlie curses and bucks. Sweat drips. They taste each other, fuck each other raw until the room smells like sex and the phone's forgotten on the floor. No quiz. Just them. And they don't need permission to know what they are.