#v (borderlands)

Minerva applies another stroke of polish before stealing a glance up at the other girl’s face, a cheeky grin lighting her lips as she dips the applicator in the bottle and wipes the excess off against the rim.

Her brows raise as she stares at Clem, fixing her with her best ‘really?’ look before giving an exaggerated eye roll.

“Gee. I don’t know! Let me consult the Magic 8 Ball.”

Cue direct eye contact as she mimes picking up said ball and giving it a long, vigorous shake. A brief glance down at the empty space between her hands is followed by a melodramatic gasp. “Well gosh, would you look at that! ‘All Signs Point To Yes’.”

A pause.

A smile.

Delta

Though it took time for them to warm up to each other, their developing friendship renewed a spark of hope in Minnie - though not, perhaps, the type Clem might’ve hoped for. Building a friendship and connection with someone her own age felt to Minnie like the first step toward building a life in the Delta; a sign that, in spite of everything that happened to her, she could still be genuinely happy and still have agency over her life - the caveat being, of course, that her happiness is bought and paid for by her loyalty to the Delta.

Borderlands

“Oh my god, you’re the worst,” she teases, making another half-hearted attempt at extricating herself from the tangle of limbs and blanket she’s found herself trapped amongst. It’s a fruitless effort, she knows-- or rather, she’s willing to let it be a fruitless effort. The couch is pretty comfy, after all. She can afford to lounge. For a little while, anyway.