pertlips.
“ 𝐢’𝐦 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬, 𝐡𝐮𝐡. ” she lacks a certain seriousness which would otherwise make her arrogance disagreeable. but she doesn’t care, really, about most things she says, and it somehow adds to her charm. just as before, she stretches back across peach’s bed like some glorious feline, tilting her head as she twiddles her thumbs, eyes aimlessly following peach around her bedroom. she is just about to get out her mobile to flick through instagram when peach drops her robe, and zelda’s phone grows slack between her fingers, dropping against the silk sheets under her. she lifts her chin slightly, the tip of her tongue touching the roof of her mouth as her eyes trace down peach’s spine to the line of her thong, then lower.
she thinks peach has nice legs, and a nicer ass. a sort of yearning coils tightly around zelda’s body, and she adjusts her hips where she lies with barely concealed enthusiasm. restless. she’s about as sexually strung as a dog on heat. colour rises to her cheeks. but it feels wrong to stare, so she pushes one hand through her fair locks and goes back to scrolling on her instagram feed, flicking away the messages asking if she is out tonight. a few booty calls she’s suddenly considering. when peach is dressed, zelda lifts her head again and flashes the other woman one of her smoother smiles. large, bright. her cheeks dimple, her eyes gleam. she gives her new friend a once over, then slips from the bed to do as she’s been asked. “ this is nice. your dress. you look hot. ” but peach already knows that. “ you should let me take you some place more fun sometime. ” none of peach’s usual places where a beer costs an arm and a leg.
her steps are quiet as she comes up behind peach, one hand reaching for her hip whilst the other hand seeks out the zipper. it’s the smallest zipper she’s ever seen on a dress, but she dips the tip of her forefinger just beneath the material of peach’s dress and pinches the metal tongue. her fingers grip peach just a little tighter to steady her as she pulls the zip to the top, aware of how close she is to peach, the backs of her knuckles lightly skimming peach’s soft skin. then she steps away, her hands sinking into her pockets. “ right, we going? ” she moves to collect her leather jacket from the end of peach’s bed, slipping into it. “ we should go before i ask if you wanna hook up. it’s not gay if you don’t touch me back. ”
sometimes zelda talks and you don’t know what to make of it. because it’s like she doesn’t have a filter --- and when she has something on her mind, it comes right out without consequence. (you can’t imagine that. not really. you keep your nails short because they look cleaner. she keeps her short for a completely different, less innocent reason. but you say you don’t think about that. you keep everything clean. cut straight. perfect. zelda comes in and sprawls out against your bed. and leaves beer bottles all over the place. and you’re pretty sure she’s a fucking cat that malts or something, because you keep finding blonde hair all over the place, and you don’t think it’s beck’s.)
you make your life by tearing other people down --- you think it’s a skill you’ve learnt from your mother, and there’s a part of you that isn’t exactly surprised that your parents’ marriage crumbled and left you in disarray. (that’s why you throw parties. you need the distraction.) so the word average and mediocre come to mind, but you keep your lips pursed and focus on the way the dress cinches your waist as she zips it up. (mostly because you know it’s not true. and partly because you can feel the tips of her fingers brushing against your skin and you need someone to zip you up. that’s what you say.)
“i know.” you know. “this is why you give me time to get ready.” because you’re hot. it makes the world go round --- pores to die for and not a single blemish on your face. (that’s just luck. and skincare. and genetics. but the point still stands, and you run a hand through your hair until it drifts over the side of your shoulder, and you turn back to her.)
“where we’re going is fun.” it’s fun, because there are thirty other girls at the bar who don’t look as good in a black dress as you do. you kind of like the ego boost. annika will get the first round in -- you think it’s because she’s trying to win your favour, but you won’t question it until she’s bent over a toilet, trying to stop the room from spinning.
“shut up, zelda. let’s go.” she mentions hooking up and you tense. hard. but instead of dwelling on it, you reach for your purse from the side table and grab your phone.
