* [Bad ideas are still some of the best ideas.]
Send ‘*’ to kiss my muse full on the lips.
Alex is beginning to wonder if maybe she gives off some sort of metaphorical or, hell, even supernatural Bat Symbol to other lesbian and bisexual women. Maybe it’s the haircut—or the clothes. (Lately, she’s begun to realize that her wardrobe is very, very stereotypically lesbian. Apparently.) But, she digresses. Now a very attractive woman is kissing her, and she’s left wholly shell-shocked. She can take criminal aliens and toppling human men twice her size easily. Her dating life? Or, rather, lack thereof? She’s hopeless. She may as well be up a creek.
Still, she isn’t completely useless. She does still remember to keep her mouth closed. She doesn’t stutter. Alex does, however, freeze, and she’s pretty sure that her skin has never been so hot to the touch or as flushed with red. This is like junior high school all over again, except this time she’s being kissed by someone who isn’t totally repulsive. At all. Even a little bit. Her mouth feels dry.
“Oh,” the sound slips out of its own accord, with very little tact or finesse. “—wow. Okay. Uhm.” She blinks in a much too rapid succession, her teeth very briefly catching her own bottom lip. Sobriety suddenly seems very daunting. “Thanks,” her mouth drops slightly open, and she scrambles to say something more meaningful. “I mean, you know… that was—” she’s floundering. Euthanasia sounds downright merciful at this point.
“... really something. Are you thirsty? I’m thirsty. What are you drinking? Wine? I’ll, ah—” she holds one hand up, index finger poised as she awkwardly excuses herself in a fit of panic.