♢ : Forehead or cheek kissesSusanna’s eyes examine Sloane’s face. Wide. Searching. Understanding. She knows how much strength it must have taken for Sloane to utter those words, to have this talk. And not only with Susanna but over and over and over again. It does not pay to be different, not in their world. The irony being that most are different in some way. A pack of sexual deviants Susanna believes they have been described as in the papers. Of course those are gossip rags, so no one pays them any mind, despite the fact that they might be telling the most truth.
Her hand cups Sloane’s cheek, cool against their flushed skin. She strokes her thumb along Sloane’s cheekbone. Leaning in, Susanna’s lips meet Sloane’s forehead, pressing a kiss there with great tenderness. Straightening again, Susanna’s hand lingers on the other’s skin.
“Thank you for being so forthcoming with me,” she says softly. “I appreciate your telling me.”
She will forget sometimes, of course she will. She has known Sloane since they were little. But that is all accidental, in fleeting moments of familiarity or drunkenness that makes her forget. Otherwise, Susanna resolves to do well by this girl, the younger sister by extension. “Now, what would you like for lunch? My treat.”
♔ : Finding your muse wearing their clothes
Raising an eyebrow, Susanna steps over the skimpy shirt left on the floor, avoids the shorts that have been there for two days, and just avoids tripping over a strappy sandal left abandoned in the hallway. She opens the door to her room, her quiet place in this raging party house and stops. Sloane is there, wearing a jumper of Susanna’s and turning this way and that before the mirror.
They jump when Susanna enters, an almost guilty expression on their face. Susanna sighs, just wanting to have a quick shower before dinner. “If you wreck that, you’re replacing it,” she warns the other. “Doesn’t Daisy have anything good for you to steal?”
