On the Count of Three | Dacey & Sarella | Sept 7th
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Sarella answered Dacey’s proclamation by way of a wild a grin of agreement. “It’s like you read my mind!”
The dornish girl laughed and stepped inside and made her way to the living room in the familiar apartment she’d so often visited, in so many different contexts (she’s seen the table covered in both books and vomit). Without much ceremony, she dropped her bag down on the floor, though she herself remained standing, leaning over to kiss Dacey’s cheek in greeting.
"So, what have you got for me today?" she asked playfully.
Sarella knew Dacey didn’t often drink, and had actually been to parties with the swimmer where she hadn’t seen her so much as touch alcohol, but she also knew that her roommates liked to keep a variety of drinks in store (unlike Sarella, who had the bare essentials at home, if even that much, because she always forgot to go shopping, and even when she remembered, she forgot to buy specific things she needed).
Dacey flung her arm dramatically, ushering Sarella into the apartment with the grand gesture.
"The better question, Sars, is what don't I have for you, and the answer is nothing!"
She led Sarella to the kitchen and indicated the liquor cabinet.
"Take your pick, just make me one of whatever you're having! I'm gonna go get some outfits and you can help me pick one out." She wasn't all that picky when it came to alcohol, and Sarella was weirdly good at making tasty drinks out of the strangest ingredients. Trusting that her friend would have something good for her to drink when she got back, Dacey headed to her closet.
She grabbed the clothes she'd picked out earlier and looked them over. She had a tight black tank top with embellished jeans, a red dress, and a white tee shirt with a flowy blue skirt. She gathered them all in her arms and took them back to the kitchen.
"Alright, here are the choices. What do you think?"
