• MEME • Send to Get a Kiss From My Muse • not accepting!
Well, that was certainly the weirdest wedding she’s been to in a while.
It was good, though. Delia had looked absolutely beautiful, and weird as the occasion had been at times, Midge is fairly confident her friend had (thankfully) ended up with the kind of perfect wedding day she deserved.
She’d been a little worried, beforehand. Not about anything to do with the wedding itself, really, but about herself. She knows she’s been a little... Touchy, since the dissolution of her own marriage, happy as she is with the new trajectory her life is now on. Certain feelings are still a little raw sometimes, and part of her had been anxious that those emotions would surface again at the first wedding she’d attended since her own ‘til death do us part’ turned out to be ‘til I decide to fuck my secretary do us part’.
She hadn’t voiced those concerns to anyone, but as it turns out she’d been worried about nothing - and she’s pretty sure that has an awful lot to do with the guy who’s suit jacket is currently draped around her shoulders.
Somehow, Tommy manages both to continually surprise her, and remain a rare source of consistency in her life. Maybe it’s the dichotomy of their stage personas - the ones they tend to keep up even offstage, around other people - and the way they can be themselves around each other. No one would believe that Tommy Hughes would offer to be someone’s wedding date just because they’d asked for one, but Miriam knows without question that her friend Tommy will do just about anything she asks. He’s said it himself, hasn’t he? He can’t say no to her.
She’s not sure what she’d do, if a day ever came when he could.
He hasn’t so much insisted on getting off the subway with her and walking from Cathedral Parkway to her building, as simply done it without comment as though this is what they do all the time. As though it makes complete sense for him to disrupt his own journey home to walk with her for the all of five minutes it takes to get from the station to her front door.
Hell, she doesn’t even know if he needed to get on the same line as her in the first place. And the absurdity of that - of the fact she wouldn’t be at all surprised if it turned out he’d got the subway with her just because, and the fact she knows him so well but doesn’t even know his address - makes her smile.
They’re at her corner, now. She can see the warm, welcoming light spilling out from her building’s foyer. Welcoming, yes, but not quite as much so as Tommy’s company is. She reaches to touch his wrist, to stop them from getting any closer to her door just yet; she’s not ready to go inside, and doesn’t really want their lingering to be noticed by anyone who might feel the need to tell her mother. She hasn’t explained her new career to Rose yet, she doesn’t need to explain Tommy to her at the same time.
“You’re a pretty good wedding date, Mr Hughes.” That smile hasn’t gone anywhere, as she stops and looks up at him. Her tone is the same teasing, easy one used to trade quips back and forth with him in bars. And if she’s honest with herself, the affection she feels as she meets his eyes isn’t new, either.
This isn’t the first time she’s kissed him. That was a hurried, sincere peck to his cheek as she’d thrown herself into his arms after she’d opened for him at the Gaslight (and she still remembers catching sight of a faint lipstick print she’d left behind once he’d moved into the spotlight). And then there had been New Year’s Eve - at the Gaslight, again, but this time a proper, if somewhat chaste kiss at midnight which had been followed by a quip about stoking the flames of the gossip that follows them around.
This is different, though. They’re not hidden away in some smoky corner near the side of a stage. They’re on her street, next to the building she’s spent almost her whole life living in. And right now, there is nothing she wants to do less than go inside. What she wants to do is stay right where she is, pull her friend close, and kiss him.
So that’s exactly what she does.
