she wants to live, and there is no life here

Tough girl in the fast lane; no time for love, no time for hate. No drama, no time for games. Tough girl whose s o u l aches… I may cry, ruining my makeup – wash away all the things you've t a k e n . And I don't c a r e if I don't look p r e t t y … Big girls c r y when their h e a r t s are b r e a k i n g .

[sophxc]

Frankie Presley​.

“Alright. Want to try it then? Or would you have a better suggestion?” 

   “What’re the rules?”

[sophxc]

Loralie Pierce​.

    “Good.  I’m… excited.  Nervous, but excited.”

   “Why nervous?”

[sophxc]

Loralie Pierce​.

    “I’ve been meaning to ask if you’d want to come over for dinner sometime.”

    “You and Jett haven’t properly met and considering you’re my only two friends, I thought maybe it’d be… nice.  To have you meet.”

   “That sounds really nice!”

[sophxc]

Loralie Pierce​.

    “Yes.  But you know how I feel about looking incompetent.  And over doughnuts?”

    She popped one of the little filled doughnut holes in her mouth.  “Enough about me.  How are you?”

   “Oh, you know.”

   “Same old.”

[sophxc]

Loralie Pierce​.

    “I was distracted and went to grab an order that I thought was mine but it belonged to someone else.”

    “Kingston Benton.  He’s… intense.  And of course I said some ridiculous shit because I was rattled and looked like an absolute idiot.  Thankfully, he has no fucking clue who I am.”

   “I’m sure it’s fine,” Soph reassured her. “It was an honest mistake, right?”

[sophxc]

Loralie Pierce​.

    “I have an extra doughnut, too, if you want it.”

    “A consolation prize for making an ass out of myself in there.”

   “That’s okay; I already ate.”

   “What happened?”

[sophxc]

Arin Melnikov.

     Drawing a breath, Arin kicked his boots off and got up, approaching the bed. She wanted him there, and he might as fucking well. He gave her a nudge with his knee before letting his weight sink onto the mattress, laying down on his back, and Queenie made herself comfortable against him in a second, her head on his chest, lilac waves fanning out over his shoulder.

[sophxc]

Queenie Benton​.

Arin Melnikov.

     Sitting unmoving for extended periods of time had never been a favored activity of Arin’s. There was only one way he could make himself do it — that he’d used on watch, or waiting for some fucker with a price on their head someplace they were known to show up, or guarding Rowan in the fucking warehouse — and it had served him efficiently for as long as he’d needed it to, over and over and over. Now as well, Arin cleared his head, quelling everything in his mind, in his body, letting his surroundings occupy him instead; every sound, every minute movement. Somewhere outside, a door opened and closed. Queenie breathed white smoke toward the ceiling. Two ways, he thought detachedly, watching it rise for a moment before his attention settled on her face, triggering a flash of warmth behind his ribs, the corners of his mouth curving almost imperceptibly.

     Queenie held the joint out to Sophia, tilting her head to direct her attention at Arin, and she wanted him next to her, a hand flattening against the comforter, her fingers splaying as she dragged it across the surface. She knew that the company of Soph alone was enough to set him where he was now; an unmoving guard, biding time until they could get the fuck out of there and he didn’t have to deal with other fucking people. At least not unless he invited them… in his uniquely Arin way that drew her own lips into a soft smile. 

     She bounced her brows at him, casting a glance at the spot next to her before returning to him, because as much as she knew he was probably more comfortable over there, Queenie wanted him closer — always — and she’d become accustomed to sleeping with him at her side, to his solid weight beneath her, to the rise and fall of his chest beneath her head, inhaling the faint remains of his cologne or shampoo. 

   “Thanks.” Soph accepted the joint carefully, taking a deep pull that she kept in her lungs for a few seconds before releasing it in a slow stream, suppressing the faint itch in her throat. She hoped it would calm her. Enough to settle her irrational fears. Maybe enough to sleep.

[sophxc]

Queenie Benton​.

Arin Melnikov.

     Arin kept silent. The brunette was looking at Q, anyway — and if the whole night passed without the Rag Doll addressing him directly, he’d be grateful.

     Queenie just shrugged, crossing her legs at the ankles as a hand automatically reached for her jean pocket — only she’d taken off her pants, her lips scrunching to the side as she glanced at them on the floor.

     With a sigh, she got back up, tossing the jeans over so she could get better access to the pockets, retrieving her tin that held pre-rolled joints to remove one, slipping it between her lips. Queenie made a stop to give Arin a peck before returning to the bed, resuming her previous position as she lit it. While sex and Arin were probably enough for her to get some shut-eye in this shit-hole… weed would just be the cherry.

     The scent of weed wafted toward her from Queenie’s joint — a preferable alternative, really, because the room itself kind of smelled like old farts. She wondered if she’d be offered it, but she didn’t watch the other woman, nor hold a hand out; she’d asked for enough.

[sophxc]

Queenie Benton​.

Arin Melnikov.

     The room next door was identical to the one they’d just left. A little neater, maybe; the bed was untouched. He deposited Queenie on the floor, then claimed one of the chairs by the wall to his right, settling in.

     It was gonna be a long fucking night.

     Queenie’s features distorted with mild displeasure when Arin lowered her to the floor, and euphoria still clung to her muscles, mingling with fatigue so they felt like jello. She kicked off her boots — which she hadn’t bothered tying — then tugged her jeans down her hips, stepping out of each leg before letting her weight fall on the mattress. Turning onto her back, she propped an arm under her head, attention flitting from Arin to Sophia.

     “So I get the bed to myself?”

     Without responding, Soph approached the bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress and pulling her thick-heeled ankle boots off, leaving them by the nightstand before she laid down, too, crossing her arms over her body.

     She felt stupid, but she felt safer, too; nothing could hurt her so long as Queenie was there, and though she didn’t know Arin well, she knew enough to assume that the same went for him.    “Thank you guys,” she said, looking from him to her, “I know this kinda sucks, but I really appreciate it.”

[sophxc]

Queenie Benton​.

Arin Melnikov.

     They shared a cigarette. Arin got up and got dressed, picking up Queenie’s clothes as he went and throwing them at her face where she lay lounging on the mattress, still. A quick stop by the bathroom for a piss, and when he came out, she had pulled them on.

   “Alright,” he approached the bed, “let’s get this fucking night done.” As requested, he picked her up, her legs closing around his waist before he carried her to the door and maneuvered them through. The door to the other room was closed, and the key was in his pocket — a fucking hassle — so he tapped it with the toe of his boot, irritation creeping up on him when seconds passed and there was no sound of movement from inside.

     Queenie rested her head on his shoulder, stifling a yawn as they waited for Soph to open the door — and it was taking too fucking long, so she straightened, frowning a bit. 

     “Hey! It’s me. Open up.”

     At the sound of Queenie’s voice, Soph got up and hurried to the door. Of course it was her. Of course it was — she pulled it open, surprise slowing her movements — them.

     Arin looked annoyed. Queenie, wrapped around him in the most uncharacteristic display of trust and affection she had ever seen, looked sleepy. It warmed her heart for a second, then she opened the door the rest of the way, stepping aside.

[sophxc]

Arin Melnikov​.

Queenie Benton​.

     “You didn’t?”

     “Think you could spend a whole night without me?”

   “Rather disembowel myself.”

[sophxc]

Arin Melnikov​.

Queenie Benton​.

      Queenie abandoned her cigarette, both hands reaching up to clasp his shirt, tugging him closer as she returned the kiss. Pulling back enough to speak, she murmured, “So…”

     “Do I gotta get my contact in now or what?”

   “You want me to fucking come?”

     For lack of anything else, Soph lit another of her half-stale cigarettes, the scent spreading through the stagnant air in the room as the smoke hazed around her.

[sophxc]

Arin Melnikov​.

Queenie Benton​.

     She rolled her eyes with a laugh, taking a drag that laced her words, “Yep. Exactly my plan.”

     Her lips curled into a mischievous grin, tilting her chin up as she spoke, “C’mere.”

     Getting up, Arin paced slowly over to her chair, then placed his hands on the armrests, leaning down to kiss her.

     The text was as good as it was likely to get. Tacking on a couple of kisses, she sent it, putting her phone away because it was no help, and she didn’t know why she’d thought it would be.

[sophxc]

Arin Melnikov​.

Queenie Benton​.

     “I’ll still get herpes with ya,” Queenie winked. “It’d just be before the sleepover.”

     “So yeah, alone or that. I bet you’re real glad you came out.”

   “What, you wanna give your friend a fucking show?”

     It was too quiet. Before doing anything else, Soph switched on the small TV in the corner, turning its tinny audio down and letting it done in the background while she formulated her response, trying to make it seem like her heart was in it.

[sophxc]

Arin Melnikov​.

Queenie Benton​.

     “So… you wanna get all cozy and bunk for three or have a whole room to yourself?”

     “Looks like I’m playing Doll duty.”

   “So I have to get herpes by myself or I have to crash a fucking sleepover.”

     Emma had texted. A whole list of updates about Logan and how things were going with them, and Soph tried to retain it, reading over it twice so she could reply.

[sophxc]

Arin Melnikov​.

Queenie Benton​.

     “Uh,” Queenie waved a hand through the air, shaking her head slightly as she took a drag before looking at him. “Remember the Nate dude I hunted down?”

     She propped her foot on the chair, wrapping an arm around her leg and resting her chin on her knee, “He did fucked shit. Reason I gave him my platinum treatment. So… she’s got fucked shit in her head. Doesn’t wanna sleep alone. I didn’t realize she was all scared about what went down.”

     Hard to fucking forget. Arin took a seat on the edge of the mattress, facing her. The first time they’d gone out looking for that piece of shit, they’d found Kingston instead. Or rather, Kingston had found them.

   “Right.”

     There wasn’t anything under the bed, either. Not that she’d expected there to be, but the need to check was compulsive.

     Having completed her lap of the room, she sank into a chair and took her phone out instead, hoping that would be enough to distract her before her thoughts started wandering.