âStep on me,â you plead. Your knees are shaking with the need to kneel in front of the absolute goddess in front of you. âPlease.â
Her lipstick stops short of her lips and she meets your eyes in the mirror. Backstage is empty except for the two of you, the evil queen and the lady knight meant to defeat her. âThatâs not in the script.â
âNo,â you say. Youâd meant to do this in a more normal way, like, after the showâs full run in a Dennyâs parking lot sort of normal, but that was before you saw her in full costume. You pull at the stiff collar of your own costume. âIt isnât.â
She steps towards you, no emotion on her face. The crown on her head is real metal and glitters gold under the track lights in the dressing area. The mantle around her shoulders is the deep purple of royalty, so dark it appears black except for where the velvet is stroked by light and shines. There are chains of authority around her neck, fake shining gems meant to represent her characterâs evil and impure heart.
You have a lot of impure thoughts looking at the way those chains lay against her neck. You say, âYou donât even have to step on me, a light shove into a wall wouldââ
She lays one finger against your lips. Itâs warm and her long, acrylic nail taps against the tip of your nose. âI donât step on peopleââ
Reality comes crashing back and you realize youâve just asked your crush to step on you before asking her out. âIââ
ââespecially not cute little knights like you,â she purrs, dragging her finger down your lips, letting the tip of her nail gently catch on your lower lip before dropping her hand completely.
Hooooolyyyy shiiiiit. You swallow, hard. âYeah.â
âYeah,â she says. She spreads her arms, hands turning to catch the edge of her mantle so it spreads out behind her like wings. âThey get hugs.â
âOh,â you say dumbly. Then, before you know youâre going to do it, youâre stepping into her space, arms locking around the small of her back. Sheâs taller than you, but not by much. You find yourself looking into her beautiful brown eyes. âReally?â
Her arms fold around you, her mantle settling around the both of you. Her head cocks to one side, one brow arched. âItâs a show night. Hugs is where it stops.â
You flush. âNo! No, I didnât meanââ unlessâŚÂ ââno! I just mean, you, uh, feel the same way? As me? Or is this a friend hug orâŚâ
âThis is decidedly not a friend hug,â she says and, to prove it, her hands stroke down your back. Her smile grows when you jerk in surprise. âThough I was going to wait until we go to Dennyâs after the last show.â
âOh, same,â you say. Your back feels like itâs still tingling from her touch. âBut then, the crownââ
The prop handlerâs voice cuts you off. âFive minutes to curtain!â
âThank you five!â you shout back by instinct.Â
âNo,â she whispers in your ear, âthank you.â
Then she walks away to get on her mark and leaves you wishing this wasnât the biggest night on stage of your life, but instead a Dennyâs parking lot at 2 in the morning with her by your side.