-1080p-.mov | X-art - Double Daydreams - Jenna Ross

“Because it’s 7:03 AM on a Tuesday,” Sloane said, stopping inches from her. “And you’re still wearing my favorite sweater. The gray one that falls off your shoulder.” She reached out, her fingertips brushing the soft wool. “That’s not a coincidence. That’s a sign.”

The Santa Monica loft was all glass and golden light. Jenna Ross stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, a cup of coffee cooling in her hand, watching the fog burn off the Pacific. It was 7:03 AM. She wasn't supposed to be here. She was supposed to be on a plane to New York for a casting call that felt less like a dream and more like a sentence.

“I’m not shaking,” Jenna replied, pulling Sloane down onto the mattress. “I’m coming back to life.” X-Art - Double Daydreams - Jenna Ross -1080p-.mov

They moved as if the air had turned to honey. Sloane guided Jenna backward toward the massive sectional couch, but Jenna shook her head. “The bed,” she murmured against Sloane’s lips. “I want to remember this in soft focus.”

The bedroom was a mess of unmade sheets and polaroids taped to the wall. Jenna pulled the gray sweater over her head as Sloane unbuttoned her linen shirt. There was no rush. This wasn’t a frantic reunion. It was a double daydream —two women moving in parallel, finishing each other’s thoughts with their hands. “Because it’s 7:03 AM on a Tuesday,” Sloane

Sloane smiled against her skin. “Then press play.”

That’s when she heard the key in the lock. “That’s not a coincidence

“There is no 5 PM,” Jenna said, kissing the top of Sloane’s head. “There’s only this. The double daydream. You and me, pretending the rest of the world is just a movie we don’t have to watch.”

The Double Daydream