#hateflare

“ on second thought, i was actually just leaving— ” in a blink, vy has forced themselves onto both feet, backpack and motorcycle helmet in tow. they dare their narrowed eyes to remain steady—their other facial features to remain mild—upon addressing the other. she’s not going to get the best of them. not a second time.

lifting a foot, vy brusquely kicks their chair aside before turning a heel.  “ —it’s too goddamn muggy in here all of a sudden. i’m sure you get it. ” then, bidding her a mock salute, they add, “ see you never, komal. ”

🖤 - for a forced kiss !!

“ oh, you cannot be fucking serious! ”

two fists slam against the mahogany booth, the fingers curled within them trembling in a rage. proudly confronting them is komal - ‘ mythic bitch ’ turned reality - fanning herself with two five dollar bills.

“ i didn’t take you as the type to do charity work, vy... ” raising a hand, she gestures to the sign that towered over them. emblazoned on its center in a menacing crimson color are the words ‘ kissing booth ’. a faded lipstick smear and torn post-it note that read ‘ $5 ′ accompany these words, almost like an afterthought.

“ ...or are you just desperate to get some action? ” an unwitting scowl tightens vy’s lips. this rouses a chuckle from komal, which deepens their scowl almost tenfold. as if they’d stoop this level of embarrassment for a lay. this is, what vy considered, a “ favor for a friend ” - or rather, a certain winry rockbell running short on volunteers for her sorority’s spring festival and pleading with them to work a few shifts.

and as much as they couldn’t even stand to look at komal, they knew that letting her down would also be letting winry down.

so, dismissing her taunt, vy instead opts for a garbled, “ let’s just get this over with ”. victorious is the smirk that seizes komal’s lips as she leans over, propping both elbows atop the booth. to their chagrin, she claims both of their hands in hers. 

“ double the dime, double the time. ” lithe fingers slide the two now wadded up $5′s in between vy’s before lifting to cup their face. a thumb caresses their jawline. “ pucker up. ”

vy closes the gap between their lips, albeit with bated breath. in their mind, they’re cursing the softness of her skin and the sweet taste of strawberries - the urge to pacify their hatred if it meant her tongue teasing theirs.

outwardly, however, they retract after a few beats, donning the same steely expression as komal’s smug eyes re-encounter theirs.

“ you never disappoint, ” she coos.

“ get the hell out of my sight. ”

"korina was going to give this to you herself but she didn't have time, so here." a smug smile curls on komal's lips as she hands vy a large tray containing a homemade birthday cake - strawberry, their favorite. "we baked it yesterday, decorated it today. figured you could use a preemptive hangover snack." and even though she knew they'd be disgusted by this, she leans over and presses a kiss to their cheek. "happy birthday. see you and everyone else tonight."

unadulterated disgust seizes vy’s features the moment her lips graze their cheek. when she draws away, they’re quick to swab the area with a palm, almost as if they had been stung.

“ don’t ever fucking do that again, ” they seethe, lifting that same hand to coax a temple. unbeknownst to them, their cheek is now marred with a coarse crimson - courtesy of komal and her anastasia beverly hills. violet eyes remain all daggers until they stoop to behold the tray in the girl’s hands. a shortcake, ornated with at least four different types of frosting, stares back at them. ‘ happy birthday, vy! ’ with a crooked smiley face is emblazoned on its center.

“ a cake, huh? adorable. now, what flavor is it? cyanide or arsenic? ” the venom lacing their tone is likely to be far more poisonous, but still...like hell they’re going to eat or feed anyone this shit. as trustworthy as korina is, her older sister is an entirely different story. their culinary creation could not be trusted should she be part of the recipe.

" tch. whatever. ” vy brusquely jostles the tray out of her grasp. “ tell your sister i said thanks.” then, without an afterthought, they turn their heels and make off in the opposite direction...

...flipping the bird at komal all the while.