@idontflirt
“Come on, Trish. It’s a yes or no question.” It’s also a question she should never have asked. Jess knows this. It could change too much. The answer has always been yes for her but she always fought the urge to push Trish up against a wall and bring her lips to hers and kiss her roughly. She fights it because she’s never, until recently, been sure at all if that’s what Trish wants. Jessica might be happy taking what she wants, but never if that violates the wants of others. Besides, it isn’t worth it. Her friendship with Trish, the love she has for her, means more to jess than anything physical ever could.
The more she thinks, the more she takes in Trish’s awkward, uncomfortable reaction, it’s easier for Jessica to realise she crossed a line. “Actually, forget it.” she says, a flick of her hand pushing the topic away, “I shouldn’t have asked. It was stupid.” her nose crinkles up ever so slightly as she gives a small shake of her head, not quite able to believe her own idiocy. Of course Trish would say she didn’t know. It sounded more gentle than saying no. And jess had been so sure. So, so sure that trish wants her as much as jess wants Trish.
Trish’s eyes duck and divert and flick nervously away. The question is a lot and she’s folding underneath it, crumbling and falling away, breaking to little parts. It’s so hard to do, to listen to, to try to compartmentalize. She wants to say yes so badly, so fervently. She wants to agree. She wants to kiss her, she does. She thinks about it, even, with those greenish eyes of hers searching over Jessica’s face. She’s practically begging herself for an answer-- she wants to say yes, but it’s hard, and it’s stuck, like a bubble that won’t pop in the middle of her chest. It’s sitting there, and it’s pushing against her ribs.
“It wasn’t--” halting, there it is, it’s like stopping a car in the middle of the street, “--it wasn’t a no. It isn’t a no. I just--” she opens her mouth to speak again, hair behind ears, eyebrows up. “--I just don’t know how to accept all this here. I don’t know how a question that’s needed answering for so long gets there.” She doesn’t know how to make an answer at all. She fiddles with her hands, there, anxious. She pauses, mulls it over. Breathes in. She’s been taught that she should understand this, especially, is taboo as a concept. And Jess has seen most, if not all of it-- Dorothy’s dire need to repress the fact that Trish just happens to also like girls. And is it any wonder as an adult she still falters, nervously falls short? Especially when faced with someone who has seen the worst of her plight.
“And it wasn’t stupid. There are no stupid questions. Most of all from you.”
