Cherri Evermore

Honey cast a sideways glance toward Cherri, that familiar, permanent smirk playing at the corners of her lips as if she were always in on a joke no one else quite understood. There was a quiet confidence in the way she carried herself, something unshakable and deeply rooted. “I know what I’m doing with people, plus I don’t let people walk all over me. I say it how it is. I don’t care what other people think of me because I am who I am to my core. I don’t bend to what everyone else wants me to be,” she said with a casual shrug, like it was the simplest truth in the world. And for Honey, it was. She had always been this way, loud when she wanted to be, unapologetic in every space she occupied, and entirely comfortable in her own skin. There was no performance in it, no attempt to win approval; if people liked her, they stayed, and if they didn’t, she let them drift away without a second thought. It never seemed to leave a mark on her. Moving with easy confidence, Honey poured herself a drink, the soft clink of glass punctuating the moment before she turned and made her way back to the couch. She sat down near Cherri, leaving just enough space so it didn’t feel intrusive, but still close enough to keep the conversation intimate. Crossing one leg over the other, she tilted her head slightly, her expression shifting from playful to genuinely curious. “So long-term,” she began, lifting her glass slightly as she spoke, “what would you look for in a partner? Who or what would be someone who interested you?” Honey wanted to know if she had any friends who might fit the bill, or if Cherri already had her mind on someone.

Honey flashed a quick, dazzling smile in Cherri’s direction and dipped her head in a casual nod, the kind that carried confidence without any need for validation, before she spoke with a teasing lilt, “I can’t help who ends up liking me, Cherri. I don’t make them do it. People just fall at my feet,” her words playful but rooted in truth, because Honey had always been that way—confident in herself, unapologetic about the attention she drew, and completely unwilling to let anyone chip away at her self-worth, her headstrong nature showing in the way she carried herself and the certainty in her voice as she pushed up from her seat and wandered over to the kitchen, moving with relaxed purpose as she poured herself a drink, the clink of glass and liquid filling the brief pause before she leaned back against the counter, shoulders loose, expression thoughtful but steady, and confessed more quietly, “I might see her again,” her gaze drifting as if considering it honestly, “but relationship wise, it’s a hard no,” the words firm and unmistakable, followed by a small, almost amused breath as she added, “I’m not interested in marrying her or anything,” making it clear that she knew exactly where she stood, unburdened by guilt or uncertainty, comfortable in setting boundaries and trusting herself to choose what—and who—was right for her. "What about you?"

Cherri watches Honey move with that effortless, feline grace, her gaze tracking the other woman from the chair to the kitchen. There is a flicker of genuine intrigue in Cherri’s eyes; she respects the confidence, the way Honey wears her self-assurance like a second skin. It’s rare to find someone so entirely unburdened by the weight of other people's expectations. "You've got the magnetism, I’ll give you that," Cherri begins, her voice smooth but carrying a distinct edge of conviction. She leans back, crossing her arms as she meets Honey’s thoughtful gaze. "And I can appreciate knowing exactly where you stand with someone. Boundaries are clean." She pauses, her tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth as she thinks about the man she'd slept with last night - the one with the girlfriend. "The 'one-night thing with a guy who’s already spoken for? That’s a hard no from me, Honey. I don't mind messing around behind her back but I'm not going to steal him." Cherri shifts in her seat, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, creating a small, guarded fortress of herself. The movement is fluid, but there’s a definitive weight to it—a physical retreat into her own principles. She rests her chin on her knee, looking over at Honey with a look that is both perceptive and entirely settled. "I know he's a cheat," she says, her voice steady and devoid of any lingering affection for the man in question. "I’m under no illusions about that. And honestly? I don't need to be dating a guy like that in my life, relationship-wise." She lets out a short, huffed breath, a small shrug of her shoulders indicating how little space he actually occupies in her long-term plans. "He was around for a fun time, but definitely not a long time," she adds, her tone clipping the end of the sentence to show he’s already been relegated to the past. "I can appreciate the distraction for what it was, but I’ve got too much respect for my own peace to let a man like that stick around long enough to leave a mess."

Honey pulled a shocked face, her brows lifting high and lips parting slightly at just how casual Cherri was being about the whole thing—completely unfazed, like sneaking around someone else’s space was no big deal. Honestly, Honey had to give it to her—Cherri had guts, that much was clear. She grinned when the other redhead admitted she’d stayed out of her room for the most part, save for a swipe of perfume, and Honey gave a playful roll of her eyes before smirking. “You can borrow anything of mine whenever you want. As long as it stopped at perfume borrowing, I’ll be happy,” she confessed, half-teasing but mostly genuine. Just as she settled back, the pillow came flying back in her direction, catching her completely off guard and making her let out a surprised yelp, followed by an exaggerated grimace as she made a face and caught it mid-air. “I was seeing my friend’s older sister,” Honey admitted, casually twirling a strand of her hair around her finger as if the story were no big deal, though the grin tugging at her lips said otherwise. “She invited me over with a bunch of her friends and I ended up spending the night,” she added, her voice laced with mischief as she got comfortable, shifting to lean back with a satisfied sigh. “She was a little too sweet for my liking, but it was different,” she mused with a shrug, the cheeky grin still lingering, as if that night had left her with more amusement than regret.

Cherri watched Honey’s reaction with open amusement, clearly entertained by the dramatics. “Please,” Cherri said easily, voice light and unapologetic. “If I was gonna do something really bad, you’d know. I have zero subtlety.” She tilted her head, smirk turning playful. “Perfume just felt… practical. You always smell nice and expensive.” At Honey’s admission, Cherri’s eyebrows lifted, interest immediately piqued. She shifted onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow. “Your friend’s older sister,” she repeated, drawing the words out slowly. “Okay, bold. I respect it.” She hummed thoughtfully as Honey continued, then shrugged with a crooked grin. “Too sweet can be a lot,” Cherri agreed. “Feels like drinking straight syrup after a while.” Her smile softened just a touch. “But different’s good sometimes. Keeps things from getting boring.” She glanced at Honey, eyes gleaming with teasing curiosity. “Sounds like you had fun though. Or at least enough to make it worth the story.” Cherri tilted her head, a knowing smirk curling at the corner of her mouth as she studied Honey’s expression. “So,” she said, voice light and teasing, “are you gonna be seeing that little missy again, or was it more of a one-time-only kind of adventure?”

Honey’s mouth dropped open in a dramatic shout, her voice rising with equal parts disbelief and mock-scolding as she exclaimed, “You’re sleeping with a taken boy?” She moved in on Cherri with wide eyes, closing the gap between them before giving her a light, playful slap on the arm, a gesture meant more to tease than scold, but enough to show her disapproval. “What have I told you about that?” she added, her tone softening as she turned slightly serious, her expression affectionate but firm. “You are worth more than some fun night with some taken boy.” With a sigh that mixed fondness and exasperation, Honey flopped back onto the couch, grabbing a pillow and chucking it at Cherri with just enough force to be annoying but harmless. A slow smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth as she added, “I’m glad I was out the whole night now. I would’ve been able to hear everything otherwise. You better have stayed out of my room, bitch.” The last word came out in a teasing lilt, her smirk widening as she watched Cherri for a reaction, already anticipating the banter that would follow.

Cherri was already lounging — legs crossed, one arm slung over the back of the couch. As Honey marched over and smacked her, Cherri blinked slowly, like a cat that had just been swatted for knocking something off a shelf and was absolutely planning to do it again. Her lips curled into a sly, lopsided grin. “Taken, technically,” she drawled, dragging the word out like it tasted expensive. “But not exactly committed, if you catch my drift. And honestly? If he's that easy to take, was he ever really hers?” She raised an eyebrow, delighting in the scandal gleaming in Honey’s eyes. “You’ve told me plenty of things,” she added breezily, inspecting her nails like this was a casual Tuesday and not a full-on moral inquisition. “And yet, somehow, I keep ending up with pretty boys and poor judgment. Weird, right?” When the pillow hit her, Cherri let it thump dramatically into her lap, then stared down at it like it had personally offended her. "Honey,” she said with mock indignation, "I stayed far away from your sacred lair.” A beat. “Well… except when I stole a bit of your perfume and spritzed myself before he got here." She leaned in a little, voice dipping just low enough to be dangerous. “But don’t worry, your room was safe.” Cherri shot her a smug, sideways smile, one brow arched. “Besides… I warned you. You leave me alone with bad decisions, I’m gonna make 'em." She hugged the pillow to her chest for a beat like she was about to get sentimental — then chucked it right back at Honey without even looking. It hit something. She didn't care what. “Now,” she began, her voice syrupy-sweet and absolutely soaked in faux concern, “back to the whore in question…” She lifted her brows, a grin already creeping in. “Where were you last night?”

Honey stepped inside just in time to catch a blur of motion—someone slipping past her, practically sprinting out the door. She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling in a sly smile. “A friend of yours?” she teased, letting the door click shut behind her, the faint echo of hurried footsteps fading down the hall. She didn’t linger on it, not outwardly at least; she’d spent the night somewhere else, leaving before her companion had even stirred, but tonight she wanted the familiar ease of her own space. Crossing the room with the quiet ownership of someone who belonged there, Honey sank into the couch, tucking her legs beneath her and draping one arm along the backrest, her posture a perfect blend of casual and curious. Her gaze slid toward her roommate —eyes narrowing just slightly in playful inquiry. “Why did they rush off like that?” she asked, her tone light, but the question hanging with just enough weight to suggest she wouldn’t mind a good story.

Cherri glanced over at Honey, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Something like that. They weren’t exactly planning to stick around for brunch,” she replied, her voice carrying that easy, unbothered lilt she used when she wasn’t giving away the full truth. She leaned back on the couch fingers idly tapping against the armrest as if keeping time with some private rhythm. Her gaze met Honey’s with a flicker of amusement, an unspoken challenge in the arch of her brow. Whatever the story was, she clearly wasn’t going to spill it all at once—not without a little coaxing. “Pretty sure they were in a rush to get back to their girlfriend before she leaves a fifth missed call on their phone asking where he's been for the whole of last night."