#pynk

Although she has the similar face shape of her father, it is softer then Commander Shore's. And just as Atlanta is soft spoken then him (although she has her own kind of fire and wit); her colours are soft too. It flutters across her cheeks and the bridge her nose rather then thickly paints them. She is not often so Bashful or annoyed that she does blush very dark rather then just a little bit. It seems to be a rarity. but it is a treat when Atlanta does blush that little bit. That's why Marina likes it when Troy pays Atlanta compliments. Maybe more so then when he tells Marina such sweet things!  

But she’s not so foolish to give her friend false flattery. Atlanta likes compliments. And deserves them. But true as they are, she'll often play them off accepting them. She is sometimes both painfully modest and self conscious. It is an odd almost shame how confident she can be in her work but not in herself.

 Instead, once they start learning how to communicate, Marina then starts to tell how to tell Atlanta how nice she finds things with her. Things playing, cooking or clothes. Or simply spending time with her. With gestures smiles and writing it out. Sincerely. Because she means it genuinely, of course. but is nice just to hear that Laugh and see that pretty red pink grace Atlanta's features too.

It had began to dawn on Marina, some while ago, that her feelings for Atlanta might be more…of the eros kind of love than the love she feels for her other friends. Like a slow oncoming tide that become a riptide if one isn't careful. Worse she's certain Atlanta doesn’t feel anything more then sister like affection for her. Nothing romanic. Why should she?

No Marina resolves. She adores Atlanta. But treasures her friendship that they've built too much to throw it away. She must stop thinking how pretty Atlanta is and stop chasing that pretty blush, those musical laughs. Easier unsaid then done.

And when Atlanta wore that green dress again. Marina's mouth goes dry. For few reasons. Oh if Marina could blush and stammer like humans, she might. especially when Atlanta turns around and asks her to please fasten it to the top. "I could reach last time, I swear-!" Atlanta grumbles as Marina moved behind her. "I think the zip's caught." It is. Marina frees the delicate little zip. And feels funny for a split second. It's only an inch of skin for goodness sake. Nor is the dress' back low cut. It’s nothing so daring. But it still catches her so off guard. Atlanta's skin feels so warm through the material.

Marina’s hands wobble as she tugs the zip it up and does up the clasp, smoothing it flat. The shade looked so good with Atlanta's hair colour and eyes. The cut suited her so well. It had been Marina's favourite when she'd first seen it. Getting ready together for events or special (and even ‘just because’) nights is a ritual they seem to have fallen into. She's glad she can have this private time with her friend. It reminds Marina of home too, but more playful and fun less emphasis on being presentable for holding court. Usually. Tonight Marina feels she's little off balance. And tries not to watch so hard as Atlanta applies and blots her red lipstick.

"Thanks Marina. Did you want to wear your hair up or down tonight? Up? Okay sit down I'll do it for you." Marina sits primly when suggested. Lets Atlanta talk and style her hair. She unpins Marina's string of mother-of-pearls and the flower made of shells, setting them carefully on the dressing table. Marina fiddles with it, worried; listening as Atlanta tells her about the general plan for tonight.

Marina like hearing Atlanta talk and chat with her. And Atlanta seems to delight in doing Marina's hair? Plaiting it and brushing it; trying out different styles she's seen in magazines. So Marina lets her for the most part; she dislikes anything to tight on her scalp. And she HATES hair spray. to the point where Atlanta has even stopped spraying it herself around her. Which is kind. This time Atlanta's twisting Marina's hair up but leaving small sections to frame her face. It's quite soothing… Marina's drifting is then broken when Atlanta chuckled. Marina blinked in the mirror. "What?" she asked with a cock of her head. She knew that and a few words in gestures. But her friends can usually read the question in her expression. "Nothing." Atlanta said as she fixes Marina’s with a hair claw. Then relented at Marina’s little frown, leaning around her. "Well, I was just thinking. I know you're in silver tonight but you and your whole look is mostly green, then you've your one pink flower? Its just… pink goes well with green, huh? Well and red." Atlanta fingers are gentle as she takes the flower and pins it back in place.

Marina nods, thinking about it. About Atlanta’s dress and her own green hair. “We match tonight.” Marina tries to say slowly signing, smiling up at her. "We sure do." Atlanta agrees. She leans forward so they’re cheek to cheek and wraps her arms around Marina’s shoulders. When Marina looks up they are framed together in the mirror “There we go. Both green. We’re go well together tonight.” Atlanta smiles quietly.

Marina swallows nodding again. Atlanta’s cheek is so soft against her own. There’s a beat. One Marina’s hearts skip. And Marina wonders-?

"Can you help me with mine?” Atlanta asks suddenly straightening up. “I was thinking doing something different, something Troy would like? But I don't know what to do really, maybe an alice-band?" And whatever spell or moment held in the mirror is broken.

“Friends,” Marina reminds herself. They are friends. Atlanta want to look nice for Troy. Marina picks out a few bits and bobs out of Atlanta’s accessories. And holds up a pretty comb with beads that almost look like pearls that was almost lost at the bottom of the box.

“Match?” she signs again. It was meant as a joke. But Atlanta's face lights up and exclaims Marina’s so clever. Marina just smiles. They swap places at the table. She sweeps Atlanta’s hair the other way and helps pin it in place. Again her hands tremble a little. She hopes Atlanta doesn’t notice.