Marlene snorts an agreement, squeezing Doe’s hand in return. She revels in the intimacy of their clasped hands, drowns in it for a moment before pulling herself out. Her poor Dorky – always falling for the wrong bloke. It seems almost too obvious now why she never approved of anyone for her best friend. Not that there was anyone good enough for Doe. Not that she was even good enough for the pure badass, the selflessly brave Dorcas Meadowes. ❝That I do,❞ she breathes, her grin tinged with a slight, inconsolable bitterness. She catches Doe fixing her hair out of the corner of her eye, and her glance immediately follows the gesture. The movement is so blithely insignificant – yet somehow cinematic. Merlin. If only James could hear her thoughts, he’d call her a right girly romantic.
The intimate moment between them slides to a close when Doe slips her hand out of Marlene’s, and in the cold she immediately misses the warmth. She’s done it now, upset her best friend and made things worse. She’s famous for that – fucking up, saying the wrong thing. The only thing she’s good for is her spells, and sometimes those don’t even work in her favor. Fuck. Marlene listens to Doe intently, her own brow furrowed empathetically. There’s a tickling feeling at the back of her brain that tells her to take a hand and smooth the line between Doe’s eyes away, to hold her cheek in one hand and kiss her fears and ramblings away. As if that’d ever help, she self-deprecates. She’s never seen Doe kiss a girl, never known her want anyone other than those wankers she’d previously mentioned. No chance in hell for Marlene. She can only dream – and Merlin, dream she does. ❝Me?❞ She finishes Doe’s sentence for her, her frown deepening as she interprets what’s going on. Instinctually she reaches a hand out to rub Doe’s bicep. ❝Blimey, Doe. You’ve nothin’ to worry about, promise you. My family’s nuts for you. Hell, they wish you were a McKinnon more’n me.❞ She stills her hand on her best friend’s arm and lets go of the contact, however sorely she wants to keep holding on.
A bad boyfriend meeting your parents for the first time – it stings more than she anticipated. Marlene can’t help how her cheeks color at the statement, the physical response she has to the imagination of her and Doe as a couple. That in combination with Doe’s fumbling, her embarrassment and need for a cigarette, endears her so wholly to Marlene that she has to dig her fingernails into her palms to stop herself from grabbing onto her best friend by the shoulders and kissing the worried look from her lips. ❝You, Dorcas Meadowes, are being a right silly witch,❞ she proclaims, accepting a cigarette from the pack and lighting it from Doe’s wand. The proximity of Doe’s lips to hers in that small moment is intoxicating, and Marlene’s eyes flicker from her eyes to her lips before letting out a large plume of smoke to her side. ❝because you’re absolutely perfect. And if my family can’t see that, then fuck ‘em. I’ve never liked most of ‘em anyways. We’ll just kip off to my room with a bottle of Firewhiskey and listen to that Muggle insect band and have our own Christmas celebration.❞
Dorcas winces as Marlene finishes her thought, dreading her transparency. Sighing in a quick huff, the exasperation slowly dissolves into returning Marlene’s smile. A soft expression filled with aggravation for herself and pure gratitude for the friend that was perhaps the sole contributor to her happiness. Christ-- where would she be without Marlene, the thought crossing her mind as it had hundreds of times before. ... Very alone. Of that she was certain. ❝Yeah--? Dorcas McKinnon... Sounds nice. Your parents in the market for a quick adoption?❞ She ashes into the bushes, smoke curling from her lips into thick clouds that cover her self-deprecating chuckle, blind once again to the pain her innocent words might cause. Joining the McKinnon brood isn’t quite so far away from her unspoken dreams, if the family were anything like Marlene. Whose energy filled her like a sail, gave her own life direction. Purpose. Marlene, who shared their boundless vitality with someone who might have traveled her life in passivity without realizing what she was missing. Yes...--Marlene was precious.
❝Silly witch,❞ Dorcas echoes and nods vigorously at Marlene’s assurances, eyelashes fluttering as she pulls at her cigarette, fidgeting hands stilling as they settle on her vice. As if the moment the words leave Marlene’s lips they grow weight, become true. Absently, Dorcas reaches for her friends fingertips, which had grazed over her arm in comforting warmth only a moment ago, only to find that she had already pulled away. Funny-- as her skin still burned fiery hot, tingling. At the realization her soft smile fades quickly and she turns, only to meet Marlene’s gaze head on. The cigarettes flair between them with the lightest of an inhale. Brief flashes of a soft reddish glow aren’t enough to reveal the heat of Marlene’s cheek. Even though Dorcas’ eyes flutter over her friend’s pretty features, an appreciative gaze unsure of where to settle before the light dims and its too late. It’s only once she’s turned away that Dorcas can acknowledge a heat dissipating from her own cheeks. It’s easy to attribute the familiar warmth to that special spark of Marlene’s. Where Dorcas was like a modest match, a short-lived, uninspired flame-- Marlene was a wild fire, and had been setting Dorcas alight for years through nearness alone. Dorcas’ hand falls to her lips as a shaking breath escapes her almost winded lungs.
❝You had that Plan B all along. Oh, Marbles, brilliant. I love it.❞ Releasing a contented sigh, Dorcas shifts to bump shoulders with Marls instead and to pull another long drag on her cigarette, humming The Beatles underneath her breath at the mere mention. Nerves soothed by thick smoke and Marlene’s gentle cajoling, Dorcas’s stiffness visibly melts away, her head finally coming to rest on the blonde’s shoulder. She reaches her pale from the cold fingers out into the night, attempting to touch a snowflake that drifts gently past their vision. Beautiful and perfect in the moment as hundreds drift just beyond reach, it only screams of a promise that tomorrow will be a wet and chilly English Christmas. ❝But really, I fully expected the night would dissolve into that anyway.... Now does that mean I know you too well, or are you becoming-- gasp, predictable, Marlene McKinnon.❞ she teases with a full smile that draws out her dimples. And just as she speaks a pristine snowflake floats to a rest on the tip of her finger, Dorcas’ smile shifts into a smirk as she reaches over to brush the icy particle on the tip of Marlene’s pink tinged nose.
titsay
blakekathryn
tangentwithtanner
turnnoffyourmind
theartofmadeline
sugurugetos
gracieabrams
ellievsbear
