for the physical intimacy prompt
linking arms with each other
Ohhhh boy did this not go where I thought it would (but really does it ever???) I hope it works for you! 💙🦛
Alexis isn’t sure if she would say the hour is early or late, considering she had never gone to bed. Now, wrapped in a cozy sweater, linking arms with Stevie and David, it doesn’t feel all that relevant. What does matter is the distinct feeling of bursting and collapsing all at once as they wave until the black SUV fades from view.
Once, Ted had lovingly smiled at her as she tried to articulate what it would be like to be separated from her family. He said it was what people felt when they miss someone. It’s a stupid term, she thinks. Mom and Dad aren’t missing. Alexis isn’t missing, either. Someone ought to come up with a better word for it. There’s got to be, like, a total girl boss phrase she can use. She makes a mental note to figure it out later. Once she’s had some sleep and Mom’s wigs are packed.
David and Patrick are speaking softly to each other, foreheads pressed together as if nothing else exists. It reminds Alexis how, as a little girl, she loved watching Cinderella waltz around the castle ballroom in her sparkling white gown, ignoring everyone but the prince. She always hoped to find her own Prince Charming. At least David found his.
Stevie slips her arm free, and swipes her fingers over her eyes, mumbling about her allergies flaring up. Alexis can’t hide how her lips curve up in a soft, fond smile. She taps the perfectly manicured nails of one hand on the palm of the other, thinking that it’s more than just Mom and Dad being gone that’s bothering her.
Alexis fixes her gaze across the dusty parking lot, locking onto the bunches of wildflowers blooming there. She feels her smile grow, and her cheeks flush, as she thinks about the night before. The way Twyla wore the daisy Alexis picked for her tucked into her hair. How their fingers laced together so easily and Alexis’s hand sat perfectly, curved around Twyla’s hipbone as they danced to the string quartet playing So This is Love. How David’s words about never liking a smile as much as Patrick’s echoed in her mind when Twyla fell asleep on her shoulder at the end of the night. They were both tired, and a little tipsy, when Alexis asked Ray to drive Twyla home so she would get there safely. Even with the ache in her chest, and the lingering impression of Twyla’s fingers skimming her bare shoulder, Alexis couldn’t take advantage of that fragile moment. But maybe–
“I have to go,” Alexis touches David’s shoulder, to make sure he’s semi-aware that she’s intentionally gone. She's 87% certain he doesn't notice, but Stevie gives her a knowing look when Alexis gathers the silky fabric of her dress in her fist and begins a hurried walk to town. She ignores the voices of various townies saying good morning and wanting to pass congratulations on to her brothers. She edges past a customer leaving the café as she slips inside, only to find George at the counter.
“Oh,” she says softly, wondering if she’s making a mistake. Standing in the middle of the café, among the cracked vinyl booths and oversized menus, the romantic notion she had in her mind is replaced with anxiety and doubt. She turns on her heel to leave when she hears it.
“Alexis!” comes the sunny voice she would know anywhere by now, followed by a hand on her shoulder.
She turns to see Twyla, still looking sleepy, with traces of last night’s makeup on her face. “Twyla,” Alexis swallows, nervous. “Hi.”
Twyla scrunches her nose, never losing her rosy smile. “Is… everything okay?”
“Yeah! Yes!” Alexis sucks in a breath. “I… last night was real. Right?”
“Yes? Alexis, what’s going on?”
With trembling hands, Alexis cups Twyla’s face, sweeping her thumbs over her cheekbones. “Can I-?”
The rest of her question is lost as Twyla’s lips meet hers. Despite being in the center of the café, with everyone watching, Alexis can’t bring herself to care. They separate, a negligible amount of space between them. Twyla slips her arms under Alexis’s, twisting them around so her hands rest on top.
“Twyla, last night I wanted-”
“I know. Me too. But you’re here now.”
“I am. Have breakfast with me?”
“I’ll make you a smoothie.”
“Thanks, Twy,” Alexis leans in, beaming and kissing Twyla again, just because she can. They remain there, longer than they probably should, wrapped up in only each other. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Alexis hears the echo of violins and Ilene Woods singing so this is what makes life divine…
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