#lesbiansssssss

It was a hot summer day.

And coincidentally, the D.D.D. issued a notice that day that no person is allowed to leave for leisure. That meant no "grocery shopping" or visiting parents. The only ones who were allowed to go outside were neighbors who had work to do. And for Rafttellyn, who always went outside under the pretense of 'visiting her parents' (when really, all she did was go to the mall and spend her husband's money), the notice pinned on the wall next to the glass partition of the doorman's office only further added to her irritation alongside her blood boiling from the heat.

Damn Alf for getting us this apartment, Rafttellyn thought to herself and narrowed her eyes. There's barely any working ventilation in here!

The doorman cleared his throat, "Ahem, well?"

"I…" Rafttellyn began, racking her head for any excuse she might find. "I'm… going to be an assistant to my husband! Yes, he asked me to come review his papers for him. That's work, isn't it?"

"…My files doesn't say anything about you having a job that involves helping with documents."

"How unnecessary! Alf Cappuccin is my husband and I simply want to help him as his dear wife!"

"Right… Technically, according to the rules they gave me for this job, that still falls under leisure activities since you don't have a listed job."

"Then why don't you list it if you want it to be on the list so much?"

The glass was far too blurry and a haze on her side of the window to determine what the doorman looked like, let alone the kind of expression he must have been making at that moment as the silence stretched on.

"I'm afraid you'd have to take that up to the D.D.D. employees with the proper documents stating your job title, position, and so on and so forth."

Rafttellyn gripped her handbag's handle a little tighter. "And how long is the process of approval supposed to take?"

"A month is ideal, but usually, they take up to nine months, ma'am."

"Nine months?! I might as well get a pregnant and have a baby in that duration!"

"Please don't," the doorman sighed. "The apartment is loud as it already is. I can barely even play my video games in peace in this prison cell they call an office."

Rafttellyn blinked, incredulous. What even was a 'video game'? And why would it take that long for a job update to be approved of? Was this man just messing with her?

"Alright then, we're done here."

Before Rafttellyn could open her mouth and object, however, the doorman said something into his receiver-looking object that Rafttellyn couldn't hear from her side of the partition. All of a sudden, the metal door to the outside opened and Margarette stepped in with her sewing kit in one arm and a bag of groceries on the other. Rafttellyn glared at the blurry image of the doorman from her periphery before rushing back inside and climbed up towards the third floor.

Rafttellyn grabbed the second floor's railings hard as she stopped in the middle of her climb from exhaustion, clutching her stomach and breathing hard.

That bastard… How dare he open the doors while I'm still in the lobby?! If it turned out to be a doppelganger, I would have been dead by now! Rafttellyn clenched her teeth and balled her other hand up into a fist while her other hand scratched at the wooden rails with her long nails. I'm going to report that man… I'm going to report that man and make sure he regrets crossing paths with me! That incompetent fool…

"Raftty?"

Rafttellyn blinked and her breath somewhat calmed down as she turned her head in the direction of the familiar high-pitched voice. What she saw almost knocked the wind out of her lungs and her cheeks, too, have warmed from something that wasn't just the heat permeating the stuffy apartment she lived in. It was none other than Margarette Bubbles, her bubbly second-floor neighbor who made her pretty dresses and all the while complimented her better than any man has had before.

But it wasn't her usual look at all, no. She was wearing a sleeveless v-neck yellow dress with a white collar and small orange polka dots dotting it all over and her usually wild curly hair was tied into a large curly bun on top of her head. Like usual, she wore the same, larger version of her studded golden earrings, and the pearl necklace that still made Rafttellyn's heart ache in her chest just by looking at it.

"You're looking kinda funny at me!" Margarette exclaimed with one of her trademark smiles that could light up an entire room --- or even someone's heart. There was an obvious red tint to her cheeks, but in Rafttellyn's hurry to shake off her expression at the thought of what her face must have looked like in that moment made her miss it. "Are you alright, Raftty?"

Rafttellyn scoffed and hid one side of her face away from her, "I'm fine. Other than the fact that that stupid doorman attempted to murder me by letting someone in while I was still in the lobby, I still have the hope of getting his life ruined, I suppose."

"Oh! That doesn't sound right!" Rafttellyn rolled her eyes, of course it didn't sound right. It was downright unprofessional and petty of the doorman. Still, she couldn't really quite manifest the same anger she was experiencing just moments prior to this encounter with Margarette around. And for whatever reason, her heart had started to pound in her chest as well, begging to be let out by its usually coldhearted mistress. Must be the heat…

"It doesn't. No one in their right mind would attempt to murder someone just for wanting to go to the mall! That's why I'm going to report his incompetence to the higher-ups as soon as I get to my room."

Margarette began to fidget with the plastic handle of her bag of groceries. When Rafttellyn looked down at it, she noticed it contained several lemons, eggs, and several packaged biscuits that she remembered liking from Margarette's tray of snacks.

"You're not in a hurry, are you?"

"I sort of am, Marge," Rafttellyn grumbled something about the stupid doorman once more before continuing. "That man needs to pay for his cruelty. If he did that to me, surely he'll do it to everyone else!"

"He seemed nice," Margarette countered but that earned her a scowl from Rafttellyn so she averted her eyes. "I, I was hoping we could have a picnic! In my room!"

"A picnic? In this stuffy apartment? There's not even any greenery outside our windows to simulate the feeling of actually having a picnic!"

"Lois gave me enough money so we can use the air conditioning!" Rafttellyn narrowed her eyes at this poor, sweet naive woman most likely getting tricked into yet another favor for that nasty witch, but she didn't dare interrupt (Margarette was one of her only exceptions for that). "Plus, I'm going to make lemonades! You like lemonades, Raftty!"

Rafttelyn scrunched her nose and wrinkled her forehead as a breath hitched in her throat before she released it with a sigh and felt for her own pulse that was growing rapid by the minute by grabbing it in her hand and thumbing her pulse point under the glove. It had been her way of calming herself down around the enigma that was Margarette Bubbles; a woman who had always been able to knock her walls down and simultaneously make her feel like she was on top of the world.

"…Fine, but don't miscontrue me. I only like the lemonades you make. The ones they sell out there are cheap and tacky, just like the brats who used to sell them in cardboard stands."

Margarette's working eye lit up and --- Rafttellyn hadn't thought it possible before but --- she smiled noticeably wider than she did usually. The folds under her eyes creased and she looked like a goofy cartoon character from one of the cartoon shows she used to watch as a kid as guilty pleasure.

What a silly woman.

"Right then! I'll go make us some lemonades!"

And as Rafttellyn followed suit, observing how her bun bounced up and down like the woman in front of her did with every step, she concluded that something other than the summer heat was actually making the apartments feel hotter.

 ~A Red Delicious to Share~

A chipper collection of chirps and clicks come from the birds outside the crack in Kelesy’s window and the school marm stirred under her old quilts. Her eyes squinted against the warm light of a Sunday morning filtering through her window. She felt the familiar weight of a book resting on her chest and her hand drifted to a familiar aged paper back. The teacher picked up the book and glanced at the cover: “Her Stolen Kiss”. Kelsey let out a blissful sigh and flipped to a dog-eared and tattered page. Her eyes trailed over the first paragraphs and landed on the third. The words collided, weaving a romantic tapestry depicting the two female lovers embracing and sharing a perfect, quiet, and passionate moment together. The scene ended with a fervent kiss between the two and Kelesy felt a blush rise to her cheeks for the hundredth time retreating back under the covers feeling giddy.

“One day-” Kelsey whispered, leaning back and letting a dreamy sigh fall from her lips.

There was a sudden and sharp knock on the door of the back house and the school marm shot up like a rocket and immediately fell unceremoniously onto the floor with the sheets flopping onto the ground with her. Kelesy flung the old blankets off and jumped up and into her slippers. She hesitated just before the door, hand inches away from the handle. She hurriedly shouted a quick“Be there in a minute!” snatched the book off her mattress and tossed it under her bed. She glanced at the still open page of “Her Stolen Kiss” and then turned begrudgingly to the door and opened it.

“Roz, if this is about the casserole for tonight, I’ll start it in a minute-”

“Kelsey!” A red haired and wiry woman shouted at the sight of the teacher.

Kelsey stopped abruptly and stared at the disheveled housewife in front of her. Trudy Trout stood in a rumpled shirtwaist dress with her bright red hair slowly falling out of her ponytail in fiery strands. Trudy was huffing and leaning forward into the doorway, pushing her hands against the door frame to keep herself up right. The marm stared on and ogled in shock, she felt her heart sputter to life like an old jalopy roaring to a start. She attempted to force her mouth into forming a sentence, any sort of sentence- but the only thing that would come out of her mouth was a strangled, “W-what are you? H-here-? IT'S SUNDAY?” Kelsey grimaced at her own yelp.

The housewife nodded in a frazzled way and gulped down another heavy breath, Kelsey felt her own breath catch violently in her throat as she noticed how close their faces were to each other. Trudy seemed to breathe easier now and brushed her hair out of her face while plastering a rictus grin on her face and supplied an answer a little too loudly, and a little too quickly, “I- I know. But can I come in? I really need to talk to you about something. I- I have an important question.”

Kelsey felt herself nodding frantically before she could stop herself long enough to ask Trudy what she needed to speak about. The red head’s grin grew genuine and she walked past the school marm and into the sunlit backhouse. Her white heels clicked against the cold oak floor in a calming, rhythmic, pattern. Kelsey found herself astonished at how easily Trudy seemed to fit in this space, like she was meant to spend Sunday mornings in the house with the marm. Trudy started to speak but as she gazed around the room, her mouth fell shut. Her eyes peered at the space before her and tracked to the center of the room where two plush chairs and a short coffee table gathered together. After that came the kitchen, a small cook top, a sink, a tiny oven, and a few pitiful cabinets lined the wall. Her eyes trailed to the back wall right in front of her and saw two doors: one, a closet, and the other was what she could only assume was the bathroom. Finally her eyes locked onto the bed. It was bathed in sunlight and covered in quilts of every size and color along with pillows piled haphazardly on the mattress, and… books. So many books, they were spread all across the bed, it was like Kelsey was trying to nest in them.

Trudy giggled warmly at the scene and suddenly Kelsey found herself very self conscious. She was still dressed in her pajamas with hair curlers wrapped in a bandana. She was just about to say something about getting dressed before the women could sit down but the sound of a sudden gasp made the schoolmarm lock up completely. Kelsey was hit with the memory of a certain, semi errotic and horrendously queer paper back book on the floor. The marm’s head snapped in the direction of “Her Stolen Kiss” and watched with dread as the housewife crouched down to pick up the book. Before Kelsey could process at all what she was about to do, she found herself flinging her body towards the paperback - sliding across the floor and snatching up the novel from Trudy’s hands before she could get a good look at it.

There were two identical thunks and a sudden realization that Kelsey’s slippers were missing. Now Kelsey found herself in an even worse position than before. She was splayed out on the cold floor of her sister's back house, smut clutched in her hands, and in a flustered heap at the foot of her very charming and attractive bowling teammate. To make matters worse, her bandana had loosened off her head and three curlers fell out of her hair and formed a humiliating bright pink halo. And as the cherry on top- Kelsey realized that when she flew across the floor her slippers launched themselves over head and hit the side of the housewife’s face. ‘So that’s what that thunk was’

The academic felt her face explode in a fiery blush. Kelsey wanted nothing more than to implode and turn to dust right here on the wood floor. There was silence in the room. After what felt like a million years Kelsey finally found herself brave enough to raise her head a little and meet Trudy’s gaze. The red head stared at Kelsey in a mangled lump on the floor and reached a hand up to massage the place where she had been slapped with a slipper. At first she felt the intense heat of anger welling up inside her but it was replaced with an odd sort of adoration as her green eyes met Kelsey’s hazel. Something about those big brown down cast eyes made her heart flutter in her chest- like a spark starting to catch into real fire. All at once Trudy found herself falling backwards onto the floor with Kelsey, laughing. Real, loud, snorting, laughter. Kelsey was stunned. Here she was, an errotic novel clutched in her fists, hair curls rolling off to god knows where, having just pelted a helpless housewife in the face with slippers and now she was hearing a laugh equal to that of an angel's.

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. All she could think about was how much she needed to hear that laugh again. She would fight any number of communists, or cultists, or cryptids, just to keep her laughing. Kelsey at that moment found herself drawing up into a crawl, leaving the novel behind, and scuttling her way over to the red head rolling on the floor giggling. At first it had taken all her energy to even glance in Trudy’s direction, and now it’s taking everything in her not to pounce on the woman and kiss her until she was reduced to a wheeze.

That thought hit the schoolmarm like a freight train. ‘I want to kiss her.’ Kelsey had always been a little aware of this fact, but now laying on the floor across from the hollering housewife, it was like her lungs would collapse if she couldn’t kiss her.

A series of bird chirps outside broke up Trudy’s laugh and the two women found themselves still and staring at each other. Kelsey’s face was barely six inches away from Trudy’s. Her hair was hanging like a silver curtain framing her face, her glasses were skewed and crooked on her nose, and her eyes were darting from Trudy’s eyes to her lips every other breath. Trudy was in a similar state- her skirt was rumpled and gathered just below her knees. Her hair was painted as a red gold tapestry on the floor, her smile was softer now and she found herself drawn to the marm. Kelsey reached out to brush a strand of golden orange hair off Trudy’s cheek, her fingers were soft against Trudy’s face. They were warm, and kind, and all of the sudden Trudy could smell sugary cinnamon and crisp apples. Trudy was fully convinced that this kind and ethereal woman swaying above her was just radiating the sweet smell of a baked apple pie. The housewife drew herself up and held up her weight on her elbows- She felt her heartbeat quicken and spark like a light circuit. Her breath was picking up, all she could smell and see was Kelsey, and some part of her recognized that this was all she wanted to see, now and forever moving forward. Trudy was leaning on one elbow now while her other hand was reaching for Kelsey’s face. Her heart was pounding in her ribcage. Her whole body felt like it was heating up like an overworked computer. Her fingers were just about to make contact with the nape of Kelsey’s neck when both the schoolmarm and the housewife heard a young voice call out.