@butfierce
There’s another person in her bed. Another actual, human, living, breathing person and not some kind of weird necromancy shit or a demon that got in through the cat flap. A real human person. A beautiful woman, at that. Hermia. Bringing girls home from night clubs is one thing, but she’s not the kind of shit stain who doesn’t even bother to learn their name first. Besides, it’s not like Hermia is a total, total stranger, they’ve definitely talked a couple of times before, at the very least. Their bare legs are tangled in a way that feels natural, and Max cannot stop a smile spreading across her cheeks at the sound of Hermia’s gentle snoring. She’s not the kind of person to fall in love with the very first pretty girl who so much as smiles at her, except she is absolutely that person.
Sunlight streams through the curtains as Hermia’s eyes start to flutter open. It’s a beautiful scene, and Max scrabbles for something suave and romantic to say to complete the moment. Unfortunately, she doesn’t get the chance to think of anything. Any words she might try to utter are suddenly ruined by the sound of the Pepper Pig theme blasting from downstairs. Max groans, internally at first and then out loud before offering Hermia a sheepish, apologetic grin as mummy pig snorts loudly. “I’m sorry, that’ll be my little sister. I’m always telling her not to turn it up so load.”
In her dream, she’s back in Greece, surrounded by her large family. They make her eat fruits, which initially look incredibly tasty but which turn rotten as soon as they rub against her tongue. As sunlight from the outside world pokes her face and prods at her eyes, her dream subsides, and Hermia realizes that she is nowhere close to Greece, nor is she even close to her own bed. Her own mind doesn’t have the time to supply more information before it is all dumped on her in the shape of Max’ voice and an apology for a cartoon played downstairs. Groggily, Hermia settles on simply blinking at the girl next to her.
The girl. Now, here’s a twist. Hermia closes her eyes again, cheeks pink with realization. She’s not ashamed, nor is she unhappy ( in fact, she believes she hasn’t been this happy in a long while ), but she now understands her dream, how it represents the expectations of her family, which she has now let down. Perhaps, though, she didn’t let them down tonight. Maybe she did when she was born. And that might make her feel bad, but that also meant she didn’t have to feel extra bad about this. Not when all she wanted to do was beam at Max and claim another kiss.
“That’s okay,” she finally manages, tongue a little heavy in her mouth. Even though she was sober as a rock last night, she’s still trying to piece it all together. Suddenly mortified, she snaps to look at Max. In a terrified tone, she whispers, “I wasn’t too loud, was I? I’m sorry, it was my first time and I... I didn’t tell you that before, did I? Oh no, now I made it awkward, didn’t I?” And with that she pulls at the blanket until it covers her face. “Just leave me here.”


















