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“i could use some extra hands over here.”
“it’s not my fault you were born so short, y’know?” she teasingly reminds from where she’s untangling some fairy lights. planning for new year’s eve easily excites her more than christmas, and after a moment she lays the string of lights down to get the box of smaller decorations from the highest shelf without much struggle, handing them to alessia. “there we go.”
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“isn’t it weird, not celebrating with your family?”
she didn’t expect the pang of guilt it would bring her, just a simple question. yes, of course it was weird. it was weird that she’d been apart from them for so long, without even a text to tell her mother that she was sorry for choosing her career over them when they needed her. she wondered if they’d even send her a birthday card, if she even deserved one. “yeah. yeah, it is.” she sighed heavily, trying not to fall back into her thoughts of nostalgia.
“I get that you wanted to come up with the plan, but your plan is stupid.”/ “Kicking someone is not a form of romance.” / “Okay, I know this looks bad…”
“well, first of all, i wasn’t listening. and second, i didn’t hear that.” she glares, “and you’re not gonna repeat it, either, unless you want me to start pullin’ out the ‘ once rescued a man on death row ’ card.” yikes, too late.
“for real? well, clearly they were dating. besides, i thought it was cute. y’know, the way he hit the floor like a sack of bricks after she got him in the balls for flirtin’ with another girl. did you, like, miss that just then? someone gotta seance ol’ shakespeare and remind him true love isn’t dead.”
“nah, bud. i’m not hearin’ it. my ears, my involvement. i’m gone. outta here. see ya.”
[text] I wouldn't know what to do. You never really mentally prepare for a cactus getting thrown at your face.
text: but that was my christmas cactus
text: called rudolph
text: next to lil jennifer conifer on the windowsill
text: did he survive ? tell me he did
[text] Your drunk naked friend is roaming the living room. Started roaming my room. Please come retrieve her
text: i’m having deja vu
text: i’ll come over and pick her up don’t worry
text: try to restrain her. or at least keep her in the house
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[text] You were yelling at the cops across the street saying they were at the wrong party
text: THERE WERE COPS
text: NO
text: DID I MANAGE TO TALK MYSELF OUT OF THIS
“is that your hand on my leg?” (but also) “do i look like a pillow to you?”
“no, it --- that was --- is --- an accident.” she baulks, slowly withdrawing her hand from the warm skin. how slick.
“you feel like one.” she mumbles sleepily, her head casually rested on alessia’s stomach.
✗
scurrying down the street in her formal garb, she notices too late that there’s another girl headed in the opposite direction. the only thing she has time to do is slow down enough for the other to be travelling faster than her, which results in a collison that’s just the right amount of velocity to send her teetering, and then onto her back with a weight on top of her. “oh, my ---” she tilts her head up with wide eyes, “gosh.”
