kiss prompt for u that's not technically even on the list but shh : first kiss, rach + sid !!!!!
It’s an accident. That’s what Rachel believes, because it must be-- there’s no reason for Sid to kiss her.
It’s not, as far as she’s aware, something that she herself has ever considered. Not, for example, every time she leaves Sid at the train station, or before sleep claims her every night. Not in her dreams, either-- her imagination has never stretched so far to conjure the shape, the texture, the feeling of Sid’s lips. Even when they’ve taken their walks alone through the fields, as they’ve sat shoulder to shoulder with their secret, kitchen-raided picnics, Rachel couldn’t have possibly thought about what it might be like to bridge that gap, to close the inches between them, to press her mouth to Sid’s and find out what icing tastes like on someone else’s lips.
Oh dear.
Upon second thought, the idea may have been plaguing her for some time now. She never has had the courage, though, to take that extra step between thought and feeling, to make it real. But Sid is her dearest friend; her only friend, really, and to jeopardise that for the sake of her own selfishness, her own curiosity-- well, it doesn’t bear thinking about, does it?
So when they find themselves alone as Sid packs her things away, Rachel doesn’t question her closeness, doesn’t question the look in Sid’s eye as she takes the sheet music from Rachel’s waiting hands.
"Thank you for turning the pages for me,” Sid says gently, offers a smile with more warmth than she deserves for such a simple task. “You must get awfully bored of it.”
“Don’t be silly,” Rachel replies, “I could never get bored of you.”
It’s true, of course-- truer, even, than anything she’s ever said to anyone, because Sid is a breath of fresh air. More than that; she’s an ever stretching sun, warm and bright and glowing, breathing life into her little world. Rachel seems to gravitate towards her, too, like an eager flower aching to grow.
“Thank you,” Sid repeats, little more than a breath, and then it happens.
Rachel thinks she might have imagined it, but it’s impossible. Sid really does lean forward, presses a kiss to her lips, soft but sure and ever so real. It’s as though she’s been struck by lightning: her brain disconnects, frazzled, lips humming with electricity that shoots straight down her spine. She feels lightheaded, manages to stumble backwards towards the door as she mumbles an apology.
“Right, well, I should go-- I’ve got to help the Brig with a letter, and I couldn’t possibly leave him waiting.”
“Oh,” Sid says, wilting, suddenly looking a little less radiant than she had a moment ago. “Right. Of course. No matter, I suppose I’ll see you next time.”
“Next time,” Rachel echoes, before scuttling into the hallway and practically slamming the door behind her. She leans against the wood, releases a shaking breath, and counts the erratic beating of her heart as it hammers away in her chest.
Perhaps, she considers, she may have imagined kissing Sid for as long as she can remember. Perhaps it wasn’t an accident, after all, that Sid really had wanted to all along. Perhaps, as much as it thrills and terrifies her in equal measures, Rachel might just be in love with her best friend.
