bvbblin:
“sisters,” dusty’s amusement grows out into a quiet laugh. puzzlement is one way to describe it, disbelief another, and it continues to be a cyclical pattern—she insists, he denies, rinse and repeat. frankly he has no clue who planted the idea in her head that it was something more than just pure camaraderie between him and the two eighth years, but life goes on, and it does like this:
at the corner of his periphery, he catches a tail of a cirrus cloud feathering out over a span of baby blue, but his attention has long shifted to take in her expression. she’s looked at him like that before, endless, numerous times, but there’s a subtle change in the impression that it leaves. the stirring in his chest—that’s new, as is the faint flush of embarrassment at the sudden candid turn.
“well when you put it like that…” another pause, as he waits for the right words to pull loose from his lexicon. “…you’re making me feel kind of guilty for switching out my costume idea last minute.” dusty grins in obvious jest. “not very loyal of me, is it?”
he keeps his eyes on her. the world stills, and in that split-second, there’s a shy, budding possibility. slowly, dustin begins to lean in, close and closer until he’s hovering over her, the tips of their noses barely brushing, heart lurching at this proximity and—
he’s pulling out a leaf that’s fallen into her hair.
“gotcha.”
blowing it free out of his hand, he returns to laying flat on his back.
(god. god what the fuck.)
“is it gonna be something scary again?” he clears his throat. “your costume, i mean.”
“sister wives?” she quips in return, knowing fully well that if he hadn’t gotten it now (even with her insistence and the eighth years’ “pursuing”), dustin likely wouldn’t get it any time soon. but it is not necessarily a bad thing—to be clueless. in dustin’s case, it’ll only serve for further confusion and awkwardness (thus, in her case, would serve to be troubling for her to try and lead him out of) to be in the know of the two’s feelings.
(if she had to be completely honest—gwen had no interest in helping them vie for his heart.)
it is slightly embarrassing. her words. as soon as she said it, gwen nearly regretted it. how it sounded—like a confession on her tongue. how her cheeks warm, slightest of pink under the sunday sun. how her heart quickens, almost guilty, as if she’s just let a heavily guarded secret slip. how dustin’s gaze makes her feel—foolish? embarrassed? like a school girl.
“oh?” her brow arches, eyes lowering for a moment to eye the brightly colored buttons on her toy. (coward) “what is it then? space cowboy? indiana jones?” gwen hums, knocking her shoes together absently. “whatever it is, i assume it’ll have the hat—that’s what you’re really loyal to...” the teasing lilt in her voice is hard to miss, though amusement however evident is quick to dissipate in the face of well—his face.
it is—hard to put into words. the slytherin is frozen, much like time, everything else around them. muted in the presence of dustin kang (with the exception of the very loud organ pounding within her rib cage). her lips part with the brush of his nose against hers, eyes fluttering, stomach tight in anticipation—for something that doesn’t come.
and gwen doesn’t know what to make of the way her heart drops.
(this is so wrong.)
“...thanks.” she speaks, willing the uncertainty away. she doesn’t know the first thing to make of what didn’t happen nor the bits of disappointment surfacing. but she knew very well what lines weren’t meant to be crossed, has known it very well throughout their years together.
this? him and her? she can’t afford to lose this.
“uh,” she shifts a bit, struggling to find words in midst of the mental chiding she’s giving herself. “no, i didn’t have the time—” her voice is slightly muffled, palms pressing into warm skin and brows furrowing beneath her fingers. jesus, get a grip. “i was thinking like—maybe a bloody take of a childhood classic,” her mouth drones on despite herself; not one for mindless babble, but gwen finds it immensely difficult to properly focus and desperately needed a new topic.
“rapunzel or, ah, alice in wonderland or something.” she hums. “ah—but, did your “sisters” already ask you to take them? should i be looking into other options?”
it’s easy to turn back to teasing, gwen would rather to cling to this for the rest of the day if it meant that it would save her from the worser parts of her thought process.
“because i’m certain i can go with stacey, if anything.”
