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I BET YOU FORGOT ABOUT THIS BUT I DID NOT. thank you to @emmagoodalls for breaking my writer’s block and giving me an idea for the prompt and at last, i present to you, for my 8-months-old promptathon and also for femslash friday:
emma/gia + fairy dust
In between the buzz of palpable energy, the thrumming of theelectro-pop music, the candy-colored lights of the glow sticks around everyone’slimbs, Emma shines.
Gia couldn’t take her eyes off he even if she wanted to, hergaze fixated on the bounce of pink-streaked curls and her skin glowing radiantunder the club lights, fair and flushed from the lights. Body glitter dusts thecanvas of her body, slender arms and bare legs and the sharp curves of hercollarbones, the top of her cheeks where her eyelashes meet skin every time sheblinks.
It makes her look surreal, a fairy princess winding her way through sweaty human bodies, etherealand magical. She’s laughing as she catches Gia’s hand, gold and pink glittermingling where their palms touch, a strike of electricity racing up Gia’s arm,and Emma pulls her away from the dance floor in a whirl, spinning and twirlinguntil Gia is so dizzy she might throw up.
“We should get some air,” Emma suggests, brushing two fingersto Gia’s cheek in concern. Pink glitter flutters from Emma to Gia, hand toface, skin to skin. Gia shivers, letting Emma lead her out of the club and intothe cool evening beyond the dance lights.
“I need to smoke,” Gia tells her, apologetic, when they get adecent distance away from the people milling around the club in their sequinedskirts and glowing jewelry. Emma doesn’t like smoking, but she doesn’t protestas Gia pulls out a cigarette and her lighter from her purse. The wind picks uparound them, whistling, mocking, and she feels the chill of it biting on hernaked limbs, her shorts too short and her arms crawling with goosebumps.
Emma’s shoulder presses against hers as they sit on the curb,watching the cars go by. Maybe the goosebumps aren’t entirely from the cold. “Doesit help?” Emma asks softly, eyeing the ribbon of smoke that Gia sends floatinginto the air, only just visible against the dark sky. “The smoking, I mean.”
“A little,” Gia admits, trying not to turn her head to look atEmma. She’s blinding, even out of the corner of her eye. “It calms me down.”Coping mechanisms – they’d all developed their own after the war. They help tokeep the nightmares at bay, or so Noah says. She doesn’t know what his is; onlythat Emma spends too much time making bracelets so she can twist and tug andpull at them when they’re sitting in class listening to a lecture.
Of course, Gia sometimes skips class entirely to go outsideand smoke, so she has no room to judge. “Does the dancing help you?”
“A little,” Emma echoes, fingers going directly to herbracelets. Tonight, they’re glow stick bracelets, the color of apples andstrawberries and stars. Red and pink and yellow and gold. One of them snapsopen as she plays with it. “Normally, you’re more into it,” she points out.
Gia ducks her head, stares at the cracks on the sidewalk, exhalingsmoke, her heart going a mile a minute. She’d been hoping – futile, she knows –that Emma hadn’t noticed. “It’s just one of those days,” she lies. One of those days has been happeningmore and more often lately, ever since she’d broken up with Jake, ever sinceOrion had left, ever since it was just the two of them again, like old times, andEmma’s smiles seem prettier in the lights these days. And Emma seems prettierthese days. Pretty and soft and full of love.
Some days, Gia doesn’t feel like she deserves it.
“Gia,” Emma says, insistent, reaching up to press thecigarette between two fingers and tug it out of Gia’s hands. “Look at me.”
She doesn’t want to, but Emma is a magnet, impossible toignore. Her cheeks are still dusted with glitter, pink and silver, the colors aviolent reminder of every reason she can’t do everything she wants to do.Anything she wants to do. Everything she’s ever wanted –
Emma kisses her first. There’s glitter on her lips, and on Gia’slips, the pink and yellow and silver and gold sticking to their skin, and it’sgonna take forever to get it off, but forever seems so suddenly possible whenEmma’s kissing her. Her hands flutter over Gia’s cheeks, around her hair,trailing down her body. Gentle, inquisitive, exploring. Gia lets her, untilEmma pulls away.
“I thought,” Gia coughs, part smoke, part kiss, and triesagain, “I thought you didn’t like girls.”
Emma laughs. “I would have to be stupid to know you and notlike girls,” she says, wiping glitter off Gia’s cheeks before taking her facein her hands and kissing her again as Gia smiles.
