Day 2: Pumpkin Patch — Pumpkin to Talk About
Thanks for the amazing prompts @hale-o-ween! Banners by @justlgbtthings.
Leather and Prada don't go together.
That's what Lydia Martin thought when she first met Cora Hale.
In all of her prickly glory, Cora Hale was what Lydia Martin despised. Brutish nature and surly attitude and not-minced words tumbling from cracked, chapped lips. Skinned knees where a skirt should be and a lower tone than a girl their age should have. Eyes that didn't sparkle but stared unseeingly at you when you spoke.
Barely knowing her for a week, Lydia Martin swore she would never be involved with Cora Hale's leather style more than her prim and proper Prada could stomach.
Leather and Prada and pumpkin guts don't go together.
That's what Lydia thought when Cora first invited her to go pumpkin picking together during their last year of high school.
But much like her brother, Cora hid her delicate feelings behind pinched scowls and grumpy insults aimed at others' unprotected underbellies. It didn't take a genius—though Lydia was, so in a way, it did—to realize that Cora's fisted hands and clenched jaw actually meant she was nervous.
Which in turn meant Cora was actually asking Lydia out on a date.
And as much as Lydia knew how horribly leather and Prada and pumpkin guts went together, Lydia also knew there's no other way she'd rather spend the Sunday before Halloween than perusing pumpkin patches with Cora.
Leather and Prada and pumpkin guts and cheap strawberry chapstick don't go together.
That's what Lyds thought when she first kissed Cor.
There was something hypnotic in the crisp fall air. It was the only explanation as to why Lyds leaned in on a bale of hale and tasted synthetic sweetness.
She couldn't even remember what Cor was talking about when it happened. Just that her chestnut hair rode the wind while fingerless-gloved hands wrapped leather tighter around her body to stave off the autumn chill. Just that the stars aligned and Cor's typical snarl had morphed into a tiny, ghost of a smile as she brushed Lyds' fingers over orange pumpkin peels.
As Lyds pulled back with the fresh taste of strawberry on her tongue, relishing in the tingle of scratchy lips against her own, she told herself she was right.
Leather and Prada and pumpkin guts and cheap strawberry chapstick definitely don't go together.
But as mocha eyes squinted satisfied delight at her upon parting, a tanned face furrowed with rare happiness—Lyds amended.
Leather and Prada and pumpkin guts and cheap strawberry chapstick don't go together.
But they should.
Lydia Martin and Cora Hale go surprisingly well together.
That's what Beacon Hills thought when it first heard the news of their coupling as kids and subsequent marriage five years after first impressions and three years after first dates and two years into their college degrees.
Stranger things have happened, they'd say.