An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
“Oh shit, is this a whip?” She reaches under Yelle’s bed, and pulls out a long braided rope of grass and straw.
For a second Yelle can’t move. She has to remind herself that it’s not immediately recognizable for what it is, and even if it were Antiope couldn’t read it, and even if she could she would never. Still it takes a second for her to swallow and say, “Could you put that back?”
Antiope does without question. “Sorry, I thought it was a whip,” she says. “If you couldn’t tell.”
“I could,” Yelle answers. "But that's actually my diary, so I'd prefer it if you didn't look at it."
Or: the art of writing with grass. Danielle/Antiope pre-relationship. 1.7k. Written for the @dimension20bingo prompt lanuages/translation.
