#threads: winter.

utterly confused, winter continued to look at the bouquet like it was a foreign object. maybe explosive. obviously, both of them were expecting two separate outcomes that evening. she’d expected, at best, a decent makeout turned handsy. at worst? boring small talk over wine and crackers. she hadn’t expected someone showing up with heartfelt intentions and botanicals. still, she didn’t flinch. not even when she stood half-naked in a silk robe with absolutely no bra on. "i guess you could say that," she muttered in response. what exactly do you call this if not old-fashioned? she thought, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "look, you’re fine, i’m fine," she said, turning her head to half-heartedly confirm that her living area was presentable. "if i’d known this was, like, a date-date," she emphasized, "i would’ve worn actual clothes." she frowned slightly as some guilt began to creep in. "do you want some coffee?" winter asked suddenly, pushing open the door, stepping aside so her date could enter.

"What I need is a beating pulse that doesn't live on the street," Winter insisted, "so, you're basically perfect. They won't really even ask about that kind of stuff," she lied. "You'll just be... a show pony."

winter braced for the usual imprecision of boys, but the reality was so much better. he was entirely focused, intent on kissing her, on following through on her demand. she made an undignified noise in his mouth, annoyed with herself and pleased all at once. she wrapped both arms around his neck, overcompensating so her hands looked productive, and yanked him closer. she threaded her fingers into his thick hair, risking her manicure and maybe his scalp. but she held on, short nails digging in as her tongue pressed against his. "you're still not as good as i am," she teased, bitten between relief and the urge to always be the victor, even at kissing.

winter relaxed her face, mindful of how dumbfounded she might have initially appeared. her mind raced as she tried to process the sight of river standing on her doorstep, a bouquet of flowers in hand and a look of confusion on her face. a date? she thought, a sinking feeling in her stomach. did i misread this situation? she glanced down at her own attire, or lack thereof, and felt a flush of embarrassment creep up her neck. the silk robe, while undeniably sexy, was hardly appropriate for a first date. especially not one that apparently involved flowers and nervous smiles. she nearly ground her teeth together, resisting the urge to slam the door in river's face and pretend this whole interaction had never happened. "you showed up with flowers. like it’s prom night. do people still do that?" she didn’t wait for an answer. instead, she reached out and plucked the bouquet from river’s hands without asking, giving it a dramatic once-over. winter hated how pretty they were. hated how it made her stomach twist, just a little. "they're not terrible," she muttered, which was her version of a compliment, then turned on her heel without inviting river in. "well, you’re already here. might as well come in before someone in this building thinks you’re lost and kind."

     “ don’t do that. don’t tell me what i can and can’t do. you’re just like everybody else who tries to control me. ”

     “ i'm only doing this because you asked me to. not because i want to. don’t confuse my compliance for enjoyment. ”