Not just because it was finally a time for rest, the day slowly but surely coming to a close, but because it meant that the world grew drowsy, falling into a gentle snore of white noise that helped lull him to sleep. Even though nightmares of the war and his time in Iraq still frequented his dreams, he found them far less intense than when he’d first gotten back.
It had been months since then, and the nightmares have since dwindled to a few scattered over the week, rather than multitudes every night.
He doesn’t think he could give the softness of the night all the credit, though.
The light in the kitchen switched off, it’s distant glow fading to black almost immediately before the smaller, white light of Lance’s phone took it’s place. It bounced around as its carrier made his way towards Shiro’s bedroom, and when he slipped in, he closed the door behind him and turned off the light.
Shiro sighed as the other made his way expertly onto the bed, sliding into the covers next to him and wiggling into his side. It made him chuckle softly under his breath, and he easily slid his whole arm under and around his partner. Shiro let his eyes fall shut as a gentle smile graced his lips when Lance hummed contentedly into the hollow of his shoulder.
Minutes passed quietly, both falling into a gentle rhythm of inhale and exhale. The soft tips of thin, piano fingers drew abstract designs over his shirt, leaving a trail of fuzzy tingles in their wake.
“Shiro?” Came the hushed voice below him some moments later, fingers still figure skating over fabric.
“Mm?” He hummed in reply.
There was a little movement of Lance shaking his head, “Mm, never mind.”
“What is it, babe?” He whispered, moving his hand from Lance’s shoulder to curl it over the brunet’s head, pale fingers carding through soft swaths of hair.
“Why did you pick me?”
Shiro opened his eyes, but only saw darkness, “What do you mean?” The fingers dancing over his abdomen faltered for a moment, before picking up their dance, albeit a little slower.
“Like, you had Keith to help you when you came back and needed help.” Lance’s breath tickled Shiro’s skin where his tank top sleeves hung low. “So why me?”
Shiro hummed in thought, almost comically so until he felt Lance poke at his side with a huff, making him chuckle, “Keith’s my little brother. It’s different.”
“Okay, but like, why me?”
”Well, a lot of reasons.”
“Like what?”
“You’re funny, you’re so comfortable to be around, even with strangers. You’re approachable and understanding, and you know when to take things seriously and when to blow them over with a joke.” Shiro turned a little bit so he could look down at Lance, and could barely make out the outline of his irises as the tan-skinned male tilted his head back to look up at him.
Shrio smiled, “You’ve got a cute, little upturned nose-” Lance wrinkled it in disagreement at that. “-and constellations of freckles all over you that I could trace for hours and it would bring me down from the strongest panic attack.” He moved his prosthetic hand over to cup Lance’s cheek, thumbing over the scattered blemishes that decorated the brunet’s cheek as he giggled. “And you’ve got the entire ocean tucked away inside your eyes, deep and mysterious and bright and inviting.”
He paused, using his fingers to slide under Lance’s chin and tilt it towards his face, “And I love the way you look at me.”
He could just tell Lance was smiling at him when he replied, “You big sap.”
He smiled right back, though.
“I learned from the best,” before he leaned down and pressed those smiles together softly, both growing wider against each other.
“Here, let me see.” revolutionshipping for the meme.
“Argh,” Anzu said, frustrated as she stared at the screen of her DS, “I just can’t figure this one out...”
“Here, let me see,” Atem said from beside her, leaning over from his own game to look at hers. Anzu quickly pulled it out of his reach.
“Oh no, you don’t. Every time you try to help me with a game, you get caught up in the challenge and end up doing it for me!”
“I do not.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Alright, maybe I did it once or twice. But not every time,” he protested. “Just let me see if I can help...”
Anzu just gave him a look.
“No,” she said firmly. “I’ll figure it out myself.”
Atem sighed and shook his head at her stubbornness, but he couldn’t keep from smiling a little at it, too.
“Alright. I’m sure you can do it, Anzu.” He turned back to his own game as a sign that he wouldn’t try to interfere further. Anzu watched him for a few moments, then picked her game back up. She leaned against Atem, and out of the corner of her eye, saw him blush at it, but he made no sign of discomfort or protest against her action.
The day was warm, the sun was out, and every cloud in the sky had scattered to the horizon, leaving only a massive expanse of blue silk above them. Lance smiled at it, breathing deeply as he walked beside Keith, fingers slipping in between his. He felt more than saw the dark-haired male glance over at him, but Lance just turned his smile the the sidewalk before them.
He was glad he decided to wear a tank top and shorts, the sun glazing his skin caramel and slowly turning his boyfriend’s a peachy pink where it was exposed from a similar outfit.
The breeze ruffled his choppy brown locks, and he actually had to reach up to card his bangs out of his eyes - he really needed a haircut soon. Las time he’d let it get too long, Keith had teased him for weeks about having matching mullets. Granted, Keith had outgrown his mullet about a year ago and was now sporting a rather voluminous ponytail. It swung idly behind him with each step, side to side, and it made Lance’s smile grow marginally wider.
A glimmer caught his eye as they passed another road and he trailed them down the street. There was a buzz of noise and catchy, park music, and Lance found himself slowing down when he realized what it was: a carnival.
He felt a tug on his hand, and Keith’s confused voice filtered over him, “Lance?” There was a huff when Lance didn’t respond immediately, “Hello, earth to Ramirez, come in Ramirez.”
“Copy that, Houston. This is Ramirez, over.” Lance turned to look at the other with an amused smirk, and Keith rolled his eyes at him.
“Why’d you stop?”
“Because there’s a carnival in the park at the end of the street!” The tan-skinned boy replied excitedly, turning back to look down the road again.
Keith’s gaze followed and he sighed softly, “Babe, carnivals are just money leeches that lure suckers cheap toys and overpriced, fried food.”
“Exactly! It’s so much fun!” He turned back to Keith, slipping on his best begging face. Wide eyes, pinched and upturned brow, jutting out his bottom lip just the right amount with a little tremble.
“Lord, please tell me how to say no to this,” Keith groaned, even as Lance whooped and tugged him across the cross-walk and towards the buzz of lights and crowded vendors.
Hunk/Lance. "You dream that justice and peace win the day, but that's not how the story goes"(it's from Series of Unfortunate Events Netflix show, have fun! For the writing meme)
They were caught. Beaten down in the fight and forced to their knees in front of the leading Galra officer when the dust had settled. A tall, brutish figure with muscles that rivaled Shiro’s after years of hand-to-hand combat gleaming under his shaped armor. His face was shrouded in stark shadows from the bright twin suns that beat down on the mountainous terrain, and Hunk narrowed his eyes at him.
Hunk had long since lost his timidness in battle over the years they’d been in space, layering a hard outer shell whenever they were sent in to fight.
He heard Lance take a sharp inhale so soft that he’d almost missed it, and when his eyes glanced over, he caught the wince that flashed over his face as he tried to readjust his forced position.
“Well, it seems this pointless battle you started was worth fighting after all,” the Galra commander said, low and guttural. Threatening. He put his hands to his hips and leaned down a bit to make sure they could see his bared fangs. “I have the yellow and blue paladins, so where are the yellow and blue lions?”
Lance spit on the bastard’s shoe in response, a mix of saliva and blood trailing over dark leather.
“I see,” the commander said, straightening up again. “You both are so young and naive. You dream that justic and peace win the day, but that’s not how the story goes.”
“Maybe not yours,” Lance replied, managing to smirk even as one eye was forced closed with blood from a deep gash on his forehead, coating his left cheek.
“But this is our story,” Hunk added, cold and almost commanding. “And you aren’t part of it.”
A metallic roar ripped through the air behind them before the sound of rocks shattering echoed around their position. Debris flew past them in huge chunks, scattering the drones that weren’t immediately crushed as the Galra rushed to put distance between them and the falling rocks.
Hunk felt himself being scooped up with a surprising mix of gentleness and speed by metal jaws. The action caused him to fall to his side, and he blinked rapidly to clear away the dust from his eyes. He saw Lance a few feet away, struggling to stand and scramble towards the cockpit in the same motion, only managing to fall on his chest, chin smarting against the hard surface and cutting his yelp of indignation and pain short.
Hunk was next to him in an instant, ignoring the burning claws that raked over his shoulder in favor of picking up his boyfriend enough so he could stand.
“I’ve got your back, Lance,” he said, helping the other to the back of the Blue Lion’s maw and into the passageway to the control room.
“Never doubted you for a second,” Lance grinned back, and maybe it was from when he’d smacked his head during the battle, but the angle Lance looked up at him made him seem hotter than usual. “Now,” Lance said when he dipped from Hunk’s supportive hold and slipped into the pilot’s seat. “Let’s end this chapter with a bang!”
(send me characters and a setting and i’ll write you a ficlet)
Thorin is all of twenty, and is thus very grown up—almost old enough to use a real weapon, one with an edge—and is certainly too old for babysitting.
He scowls at his baby sister. Everyone pays attention to her all the time, and it’s not fair. She doesn’t even do anything, she just lies there and cries.
“I wish the Elvenking would take you away,” he says, scowling. It’s a fearsome scowl, he thinks, or it would be if he had more beard. It’s not fair. His grandfather’s beard is almost down to his knees, and Thorin barely has any stubble. If he had more beard, all his troubles would be gone. He’s sure of it.
He kicks the crib for good measure as he stalks out of the room. Dís wails and wails, and Thorin wishes he had cotton to plug his ears with, the way everyone does in the forges.
The hairs on the back of Thorin’s neck begin to prickle.
Something’s wrong. He can’t hear Dís.
There’s a figure standing over her crib, long and thin and pale, holding her in one arm. It—he?—is smiling, showing off many pointed teeth.
“Give me back my sister!” Thorin shouts. The thing tuts, rocking Dís back and forth in its arms.
“You wanted me to take her,” it says. “But if you really want her back…” It taps one long finger against its pointed chin in exaggerated elegance. “I suppose you could run my labyrinth for her. If you can get to my castle within the time limit, you can have her back. You might even make it—but it will certainly be amusing for me to watch you try.” It laughs, and Thorin hates this thing, hates it with all his heart.
Shehates that, hates the physical manifestation of her anxiety, theproof that she is somehow less than. Yet even as she grits herteeth and fights to steady them, they continue to shake as shefumbles with her hair.
“Damnit!” Lena slams her hairbrush onto her vanity and sags forwardagainst it, hands pressed to the cool glass of its surface as shestares at herself in the mirror. “Get your shit together, Luthor,”she mumbles to herself, closing her eyes against the waves of anxietyshivering through her system.
“Lena?”
Hername reaches her from the doorway, soft, hesitant. Lena isn’t evensurprised when she turns to see the broad shoulders of Supergirlfilling her doorway, though she looks smaller than usual in thismoment, her fingers twisting together in front of her as she watchesLena uncertainly.
“Yourbalcony door was open and I heard…” She lifts a shoulder, lets itfall. “Sorry. I thought you were in trouble. I can go…?” shemotions back toward the hall, even takes a step back as if to followthrough.
Lenawatches her silently through all of this, almost remains quiet whenshe starts to back away. But the concern on her face is overwhelmingand Lena sighs, shaking her head as she calls out a tired, “Wait.It’s fine. Please, come in, Supergirl.” And Supergirl hesitates amoment longer before taking her at her word and stepping into theroom, crossing to sit on the edge of Lena’s bed.
“Youcan call me Kara when we’re alone,” she points out softly. “It’sokay.”
Lenapresses her lips together, her eyes flickering down to the crestemblazoned on Supergirl’s chest before glancing away again to focuson her own reflection. “It’s hard to get used to thinkingof you that way. It was easier when you were two people.” And inthe mirror, she sees Supergirl – Kara, her friend Kara –flinch visibly.
“I’msorry,” she says in a whisper and it must be the fiftieth timeshe’s said it, Lena’s lost count. She closes her eyes in defenseagainst the sound of it, but the guilt builds and builds in her chestuntil she’s almost breathless with the pressure of it.
“No,I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so short with you. I’m just…”She waves a hand to encompass her vanity, the scattered makeup, thepile of pins, the diamond hair combs she needs to somehow incorporateinto her hair with the hands that won’t stop shaking. “I’mgetting ready for a gala hosted by a friend of my father’s andI’m…” She smiles, but there is no humor in it. “I am not afan of events that I don’t control, especially not with my father’scrowd.”
“Youlook beautiful,” Kara offers and Lena glances down at herself,studying the simple lines of the black evening gown she wears. Thereare diamonds clasped around her neck and at her wrist because it’sthe kind of party where the women must sparkle and she hates how coldthey feel against her skin.
“Myhair is a disaster,” she says instead, sighing as she glances up tostudy the mess of curls again. She sees Kara in the mirror, watchingher, studying her.
“Comehere. Let me fix it.”
Lena’sshoulders go rigid and she nearly protests. The idea of letting Karatouch her as Supergirl now, after everything, makes her stomach pitchuncomfortably. But Kara is watching her with so much patience andunderstanding and it’s still Kara, whatever uniform shewears. So Lena scoops up her handful of pins and the diamond combsand crosses to her bed, sitting on the edge of it while Kara shufflesback and perches on her knees just behind her.
Andwhen she closes her eyes, it’s easy to forget the uniform. Kara’shands are so gentle as they slide through her hair, working whatevermagic she so often works on her own. Lena barely feels the tug andpull, barely feels the pressure of the pins sliding home. But she’shighly aware of her, of the heat radiating from Kara’s bodyand soaking into her back, of the feather-light caress of her breathagainst her scalp, of the gentle graze of her knuckles against thenape of her neck.
She’sbeginning to think her hands are now shaking for a different reason.
Karasecures the combs and then drops her hands, humming with obvioussatisfaction.
“Beautiful,”she says again, and Lena stands to inspect herself in the mirror. Andoh, Kara has outdone herself. Lena is certain she’s never felt thatcompliment as genuinely as she does in this moment, with her hair sointricately arranged and Kara’s eyes on her.
“Thankyou, Kara,” she whispers, watching her in the glass as she standsagain and offers a smile.
“Whatare friends for?”
Andthen she’s gone again and Lena is left wishing.
Wishingthat Kara had never told her about her Superhero identity. Wishingthat Lena could convince herself she still cared about that. Wishingthat she didn’t want to call Kara back and sink into her arms andlearn what it is to be… well. More than just Kara’s friend.
“Getyour shit together, Luthor,” she whispers to herself once againbefore uncapping her lipstick.
Karareally isn’t surprised to see Lena’s lights on still, though it’snearly two in the morning. She usually finds Lena in her office longafter the building is closed on nights she manages to escape death.
(Karadoesn’t want to think about how often an occurrence that is.)
She’dbeen in time to stop the space ship, she’d saved Alex and all thealiens on-board from being jettisoned back into space, and she owesthat to Lena. She owes a lot to Lena. Lena, who’s pacing her officenow with her arms folded and face set, talking into what Kararealizes is a head set when she lands on her balcony, just hardenough for the landing to be heard. Lena glances over and flashes atired smile before waving her in, still talking into the phone.
“It’stwo in the morning,” Kara points out once Lena ends the call,watching in amusement as she waves a dismissive hand.
“There’salways business to conduct on the other side of the world. So.” Sheremoves the headset, placing it carefully on her desk before turningto face Kara with a fuller smile. “Supergirl. To what do I owe thispleasure?”
Karastudies her, taking advantage of their nearness to take stock. Lena’ssmile is polite and her eyes are focused, but they’re shadowed.Every near death experience caused by a family member does more andmore damage and it’s wearing away at her, taking bits and piecesfrom her heart every single time. Lena wants to pretend she’sunaffected, she wants to pretend it all slides right off her back,but it doesn’t. All of that pain, all of that grief, slithersaround her neck and shoulders like a serpent and if she keepsignoring it, it’s going to choke the life out of her.
Herfamily will kill her if this keeps happening, one way or another.
“Youshould’ve punched those guys in their faces,” she mumbles andLena’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Excuseme?”
“Theguys. The ones that pitched you off your balcony?” She nearlyshudders at the memory, but forces it back. She’s Supergirl rightnow, not Kara. She can’t let this feel personal. “You should’vepunched them.”
“Itasered one of them,” Lena points out with a jut of her chin, herarms folding across her chest again. “I don’t think punching themwould’ve done all that much.”
“Sureit would. Here, punch me. Well. Pseudo-punch. I don’t want you tobreak your hand.” When Lena looks at her doubtfully, Kara gives asigh of exasperation. “Come on, I’m like, a pro at punching. I’llgive you some pointers. Like... run for the door instead of yourfifty-second floor balcony.”
Lenaactually laughs at that and then sighs, straightening up as she holdsher arms up, obviously lacking in confidence. And it’s…admittedly a mess. Kara bites her lip to keep from telling Lena shelooks cute like this and instead reaches for one of her fists,uncurling her fingers.
“Don’ttuck your thumbs,” she murmurs. “You’ll break them.” AndLena’s staring at her and her heart is hammering and Kara isn’tsure she’s heard at all. Kara stares back, then manages to tear hereyes away and clear her throat. “Okay, go ahead.”
Lenajerks and then nods, tossing out an arm. Her form is sloppy and shedoes indeed pull it so that her fist barely connects with Kara’sarm. This time Kara can’t help the laugh. Lena huffs and drops herarms again.
“Thisis stupid,” she complains and Kara laughs more, shaking her headand reaching out to catch her wrist when Lena would’ve backed away.
“No,it isn’t. I had to see what we were working with. Gosh, Lena. Theamount of attention you get, I would think you’d have taken someself-defense courses at the very least.”
“Notall of us can go around punching people,” Lena says somewhat drylyand Kara grins, completely unabashed.
“Noteveryone,” she agrees. “But you should at least know howto throw a punch.” She steps closer, doesn’t miss the way Lena’sbreath hitches and her heart rate ticks up again. “Do you trustme?”
“DoI- what?”
“Doyou trust me? I want to take you somewhere, but it’s kind of asecret somewhere so I’d need to blindfold you. So you’d really,really have to trust me.”
Lenatilts her head, silent, and Kara’s smile falters slightly.
“Imean, it’s okay if you don’t. I completely get it. We can just,you know, I never said anything and you can-”
“Stop.”Lena holds up a hand and shakes her head. “The answer is yes. Yes,I trust you.” She moves to her coat rack and fetches a silk scarf,offering it to Kara with raised eyebrows. “Tie me up, Supergirl,”she offers with a small, coy smile and Kara feels the flush spread upher chest to burn in her ears.
“Ah.Right. Okay.” She takes the scarf, biting her lips between herteeth as Lena turns her back to her in offer. Kara loops it over herhead, murmurs something about telling her if it’s too tight as shecarefully secures it over Lena’s eyes.
Thenshe’s scooping Lena up, grinning at her squeak of surprise and thearms that are suddenly tight around Kara’s neck as she flies themfrom the office.
//
“Kara.”
“Please,Alex.”
“Thisis a top secret facility.”
“Iknow.”
“Fora top secret government agency.”
“Iknow.”
“Onethat has fought to take down her brother and her mother before.”
“Iknow, Alex.”
“Well,”Alex drawls, voice ripe with sarcasm. “As long as you know.” Shespins around and marches towards the door, shoving it open hardenough so that it smacks into the wall. Lena, sitting in a chair onthe other side of it trying to pretend like she’s not staring ateverything, jolts. “Well since you’ve got an official invite fromSupergirl, I guess everything is in order.” She shoots Kara a darklook. “We just need you to sign some paperwork and then we’ll getstarted.”
“Started?”Lena looks doubtfully between Kara and Alex, brow pinched, expressionuncertain.
“AgentDanvers has agreed to train you in self-defense,” Kara saysbrightly, ignoring Alex’s snort at the word agreed. “Soyou’re prepared the next time you’re… accosted.”
“She’sagreed to train me,” Lena says slowly.
“Yup.”
“At…nearly three in the morning.”
Karawinces a little. “Yeah. Weird agent hours. You know how it is.”
“Idon’t actually.” Alex snorts out another laugh and Lena sends hera quick smile, glancing over the paperwork she’s handed. An NDA. Itisn’t surprising, but Lena’s eyebrows lift anyway. “And if Idon’t want the training?”
“Thenyou’re an idiot,” Alex says before Kara can speak. She shoots hersister a glare, but Alex is watching Lena, who’s watching her rightback. “Hate to break it to you, Luthor, but you’re pretty highrisk for getting your ass kicked or worse. How many times have youalmost died in the last few months? The last few years?” Lena’snostrils flare with a flash of temper. And then...
Shesigns the form with a flourish and passes it back.
“I’ma Luthor,” she says. “Luthors aren’t stupid.”
Alexinclines her head. “Fair enough.”
//
Shetakes Lena to the DEO twice a week to train with Alex, always at theweirdest hours, but she doesn’t watch the training sessions. Shecan’t because she’s sure something will happen to give her awayas Kara, and so far she thinks she’s done a pretty good job atkeeping it a secret.
Shedoesn’t get to see Lena actually employ her newly acquired skillsuntil the nanobots, until Jack, until Beth. When Lena claims to havea better idea, Kara figures it has something to do with the computernearby to where they stand. But instead Lena marches straight toBeth.
Shewatches her take a hit, then watches her land the other woman flat onher ass with two solid hits of her own, and there’s pride swellingin her chest even as she contends with the bots now swarming her.
“DidI ever mention I’m a Luthor?” Lena spits with a smirk and Karanearly laughs.
Shesees the elbow jab too (a move Alex had also taught her, back whenthey did combat training), and there’s a pang in her heart,distracting and not at all helpful in this moment.
//
Sheflies Lena home when the police are done with her, afraid to leaveher alone but knowing Supergirl isn’t who she needs. Not when she’djust sacrificed someone she loves to save a woman wearing a crest sheprobably hates.
Shecomes back as Kara, though.
(Lenadoesn’t seem surprised when she opens the door.)
Theydon’t talk. Lena walks back to her couch, expression blank, eyesstaring at nothing. It’s dark. The only light is what comes inthrough her balcony doors, her windows.
Karadoesn’t try to remedy that. She looks at Lena and heads to herkitchen instead, packing ice into a bag. When she returns, shecarefully takes one of Lena’s hands, studies the swollen, bruisedknuckles before placing the ice onto them.
“Alexsays never to aim for the face,” Lena whispers, “Because it’sthe hardest part of the body.” She looks to Kara slowly. “But itwas so satisfying, Kara.”
“It’sokay.” Kara takes Lena’s other hand, studies the swelling andbruising before pressing her lips gently to them. “It’s okay,Lena.”
Lenareleases a shuddering breath and leans against Kara’s shoulder.
Karahums quietly and continues to care for Lena in the dark.
19.If I don’t say it now, I’ll regret it later. (Trimberly)
Still new to writing them so I’m not 100% happy with this, but I hope it’s still okay. xx
..
..
Meetme at the train.
Kimberlyreads the text again, brows furrowed, a frown tugging at her lips.It’s the last place she wants to be with the air so cool and thesky threatening to open up at any moment. She suspects that a healthyamount of rain around here could cause a landslide and she’s reallynot about that life. Not that they’d really get hurt by that kindof thing now honestly. She’s pretty sure super strength means youcan survive landslides.
(Hell,Trini had survived one even before the powers, but still.)
She wonders again if she’d sent the text to everyone, but it’s not inthe group chat and a glance at the messages there show no one elsediscussing a meet-up. Last she’d heard, Zack had been planning atrip to the hospital with his mom and Billy and Jason were having aboys’ night, whatever that entailed. Kimberly didn’t ask. Shesuspects it might mean building things that would eventually blow up.
Well,Billy would be building. Jason would mostly be there to make sure hedidn’t blow himself up. Usually Kimberly would be there too, butnot this time. No, she’d left them to their boys’ night with ahave fun and a winking emoji.
Trini’stext had come shortly after.
Sometimestexting with Trini is impossible. She doesn’t answer every text andshe isn’t as… personable through text as she is in the flesh. Notthat Trini would win any awards for personable in reality, really,but she’s… different face to face. In texts, she never asks, butdemands. Kimberly suspects that it might be because she’s afraid ofpeople saying no so she doesn’t pose things as questions. That waythey kind of can’t.
Well,she could have. She could have texted Trini and said no way, it’sabout to pour. But instead she’d only sent some affirmative mixof emojis, tossed on a coat, and headed out.
Nowshe’s here and she’s eyeing the sky above her head wondering why.
(Butwhen she sees Trini trekking up the hill, she knows why.)
“Aren’tyou the one who asked me here?” she asks, grinning at Trini as shemakes it to even ground. “Which, why are we meeting here anyway?It’s going to rain. Are the boys coming?”
“Why,do you want them to?” Trini shoots back, scowling a little as sheshoves her hands into her back pockets, shifting her weight from onefoot to the other. “Because I needed to talk to you, but if youwant the whole gang to be here for a Power Rangers powwow, feel freeto shoot them a text. I’m sure Zack will bring the beer.”
“Whoa,hey.” Kim steps forward, her smile falling slowly as she reachesout and sets a hand on Trini’s arm. Her muscles are tensed beneathher coat and she flinches a bit at Kimberly’s touch, but Kim stepscloser and holds on until Trini relaxes again. “It’s fine if it’sjust us. I was just asking.” She studies Trini’s face, sees theway the muscle in her jaw tics, the way she avoids eye contact. “Areyou okay?”
“I’mfucking fantastic. Let’s just get inside before it rains, okay?”
Trinipaces away, readjusting the backpack of her shoulder, and heads forthe train. She shoves the door open and stomps inside and Kimberlyfollows slowly, wondering what the hell is up with her.
BecauseTrini makes no move to, Kimberly lights the little battery operatedlantern they’d set up in the train a few weeks before and thenturns to look at her. Trini is still pacing, albeit in short, quickturns within the cramped space, and her obvious anxiety is makingKimberly feel more than a little anxious herself.
“Areyou going to talk to me or just… continue doing that?” She boostsherself up onto the table the lamp is on, eyebrows lifting as sherubs her cold hands together. “Because as much as I love yourcompany, Trini, it’s really freaking cold out here and it’sprobably going to rain soon so-”
“Canyou just shut up for like a minute?” Trini spins around as she saysit, the words sharp and full of temper. When Kimberly only stares,Trini exhales a shaky breath and closes her eyes. Kimberly waits,watching the cloud her breath formed dissipate. “Sorry, I just…I’ve got something to say. I have to say it. And if you keeptalking, then I’ll probably chicken out and if I don’t say itnow, I’m gonna regret it later. So just, you know… listen. Okay?”
Kimberlyhesitates and then nods, just once. “Okay.”
“I’msorry I told you to shut up,” Trini adds in a mutter and Kim can’thelp but smile a little.
“It’sfine.”
“It’snot-” Trini exhales again, impatient this time, her arms foldingacross her chest. “Never mind. I’m just gonna say it. I… likeyou.”
Kimwaits a beat, then another. “Okay…?”
“No,I mean-” Kimberly watches her turn away, fingers combing throughher hair in a gesture of pure frustration before she spins around andstomps closer to her. Close enough that her breath catches and hereyes go wide as Trini’s hands plant themselves on the table oneither side of her hips, her face too close, her teeth grittedtogether as she stares. “I like you, Kim. A lot. As in, Iwant to kiss your stupid fucking face, like, all the goddamned time.I’ts actually pretty fucking inconvenient.”
Asif only just realizing what position she’d put them in, Trini’seyes go wide and she jerks back again, stumbling away two stepsbefore shoving her hands into her pockets. The lighting is dim, butKim is pretty sure that her ears are burning with extra embarrassedcolor.
(It’spretty damned cute.)
“So,there. I said it.” Trini’s chin jerks up, defiance flashing inher eyes, and Kimberly only stares back. For a moment, the onlysounds between them are Trini’s elevated breathing and thebeginning patter of rain on the roof of the train car.
Kimberlyslides slowly from the table, stepping towards Trini. Trini stepsback in turn and Kimberly smiles, head tilting as she moves closer.Trini’s eyes go even wider and she backs up until suddenly she’spressed to the opposite wall of the train, her hands pressing againstit.
“Kim?”she asks softly, uncertainly, and the lack of her usual snark makesKimberly’s smile soften.
“Trini,”she returns, her voice just as quiet, her hand lifting slowly untilit comes to rest on Trini’s cheek. “You’re pretty damned cutewhen you blush.”
“I’mnot blushing,” Trini shoots back, and then, “Wait, what?”
Alaugh escapes and Kimberly steps in until their bodies brush, herthumb tracing Trini’s lower lip. “I said you’re pretty cute.And I didn’t say this, but I’m going to add that I kind of reallywish you’d said something sooner.”
“Wait,why?”
“SoI could have kissed you a lot sooner.”
Sheleans in slowly, giving Trini time to pull away or say no or reactnegatively in any way. She doesn’t and Kimberly smiles before herlips meet the other girl’s, slow and steady and sure. There’s nohesitation in her, no question. Because she’d kind of wanted to dothis pretty much since she’d pulled Trini off that cliff and itdoesn’t bother her that she wants to either, not really. Girls hadnever been on her radar in a major way, but this doesn’t feel likesome big deal, some huge question mark.
Shesinks into Trini and feels nothing but right.
“Should’vesaid something way sooner,” Trini whispers shakily when they breakapart to breathe.
