song_tra_bong | (no subject)

(no subject)

As a rule, Mary Anne doesn't sleep with her head under the pillow. That's useful weapon storage space and sleeping with your face near a knife is just silly.

But when you're trying to avoid that damn ray of light that keeps sneaking in through the blinds and stabbing you in the eye, and you're not inclined to get out of bed and draw the curtains, under the pillow is the best option. The knife has been knocked to the floor in the course of this exercise, and she is muttering insulting things about the sun under her breath.

Any possible discomfort or annoyance this may be causing her bedmate has not been taken into consideration.

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"Lavishing was last night," she points out, flopping back on the pillow.

"Now it's every girl for herself."

"So be it."

Goldy sniffs disaffectionately.

Then launches a surprise tickle attack!

She's been with Mary Anne enough times to have figured out all her sensitive spots, and she focuses in on them with ruthless precision as she tries to wrestle herself into a commanding position astride her opponent. She's hooting with laughter too—part-triumphantly, part-maniacally—as she tries to deliver the playful torment.

Generally, Mary Anne is a worthy opponent in such skirmishes. But between early morning grogginess and that paralyzing coldness in her limbs, she is quickly defeated.

By which we mean, she falls off the bed again.

"You know, I think I'm going to take this as a sign and stay down here."

But that's no reason not to be comfortable, as she starts tugging the blankets after her.

"Heyyyyy. No fair!" Goldy wails melodramatically.

She struggles to keep some covers, but she's so tangled up in them after the fight that her ultimate destination ends up being the same as Mary Anne's. She's dragged unceremoniously off the mattress, and only just manages to break her fall with a flailing hand. Lucky for Mary Anne really, because she's blocking the floor from Goldy's descending body.

"Oof!"

Cue one jumbled heap of blonde hair, arms, legs and various bedding accoutrements.

"Well."

Mary Anne flips blonde hair--not quite sure whose it is--out of her face and eyes her floor companion..

"Fancy meeting you here."

Goldy attempts to look grumpy as she resituates herself alongside Mary Anne, while keeping herself well-wrapped in bed clothes. She doesn't do a very good job of the former. There's a kitten-ish gleam in her eye that she just can't hide.

Once she's settled, she turns her head to meet Mary Anne's gaze, and smirks properly.

"Hi."

"Hello."

Mary Anne's expression is somewhere between smirk and suppressed laughter.

"You having fun?"

"Oh yes," she replies drily. "I wish every morning started this way."

"...And this early."

She's still smirking though, and Mary Anne gets a friendly peck on the cheek.

"It's been a novel experience. But this is so definitely the last time I spend the night here."

First time and last time.

She pretends to swoon.

"Abandoning me--I knew it. However will I go on?"

Or keep her bed warm?

(Rhetorical question.)

Goldy shrugs.

"I suppose you will just have to stay over at mine for all future tristes. From now until the end of time."

Mary Anne considers this.

"You do have a nice bed...Comfy and roomy."

Certainly cuts down on those early morning fights for the covers.

"Mmmhmmm," Goldy hums agreeably.

"Which is why I don't tend to stray far from it outside brothel work."

"Why should you?" she asks, stretching.

"The party comes to you there..."

Or did.

The party girls are down by one.

She chews her lower lip, thinking. "Not that I haven't also enjoyed your fabulous company overnight, but I could have sworn you weren't a big fan of beds other than yours."

Goldy falls silent for what is possibly a telling moment. Then shrugs again.

"I'm not so stuck on my home comforts that I can't make a few sacrifices every now and again," she lies. "And it's always nice to try new things once in a while."

She smiles, and maybe there's just a hint of strain behind it.

"Besides. I didn't know I was going to end up staying over. I was just craving some lovin' from my favorite hot blonde. And you weren't around downstairs for me to grab and molest."

It's reasonable logic, for all that it's a fairly blatant cover up.

"Here I thought you were set in your ways."

She rolls onto her side, facing Goldy. "And they're not too big on the whole public displays of molestation downstairs, even when it's two hot chicks."

She chews her lip a moment, then asks, "Something on your mind?"

"Well, the molestation would have occured in private," she clarifies soberly. And becomes quiet again, not providing an answer.

It's a pregnant sort of silence though—heavy and swollen, and loaded with answers.

She winds a lock of Goldy's hair around her finger.

"'M gonna take that as a yes. Wanna talk about it?"

"No, no. Quit the hushed tones. It's fine," she says, too quickly. "Everything's fine, babe."

"You know. It's just..."

She shrugs again, eyes falling away from Mary Anne's again.

To confess that she came here for companionship as well as sex, because her bed has been empty far too often of late... well, that's a big thing. She's sure Mary Anne will understand. But to say it, to admit to a feeling of loneliness in Miho's absence, is hard. Especially when one has spent so many lifetimes in happy and necessary independence.

Yes. She loves Miho. But there are many levels of love. To even entertain the thought that she might be semi-reliant on another being—it's an affront to her existential logic.

The whoring and other random liaisons should be enough, for fucks sake!

"It's just...not fine."

She keeps her voice low, because sometimes these conversations are easier softer.

"You miss her."

"I do," she sighs.

The other girl's insight does a fine job of assuaging Goldy's reservations. She sounds almost relieved.

"A lot more than I thought I would."

"...Than I thought I would ever miss anyone."

She smiles faintly.

"It happens, gorgeous. And it has a way of sneaking up on you."

"Maybe. But not on me," she says, frowning now.

"I've had eyes in the back of my head for centuries, watching out for this kind of 'attachment' shit."

She does not snicker. But she smiles.

"Then it snuck up in front. But it's not a disease, babes. You can't be immune."

"I know."

She sighs again, and lays her head to rest on the bundle of comforter and blankets that is massed under their shoulders.

"Fucking Eros. I'm going to kick his ass next time I see him."

"I think you mentioned him to me once before," she says.

"You don't thingk he had anything to do with this, did you? I mean, in a slightly more active role than just all things love related."