Re: [UFO Tourism: Connie & Dahlia]
Yeah, it was a little weird to hear her best friend shout. But what got real weird was that as the louder best friend got, Dahlia's voice went quieter. Tense and urgent, yeah. But it was a steady growl that followed Connie, instead of just escalating shit like Dahlia tended to do. "You're allowed to feel fuckin' whatever. You ain't allowed to use that to make choices for other people. Raisin' him ain't a fuckin' excuse, Connie. My parents tried to call my shots for me all the time an' look how that fuckin' turned out." She rubbed the bridge of her crooked nose, sighing, and spat out her gum. Man, what had her comrade-in-sobriety said? "You just--gotta lay out your shit first. Stop fuckin' assumin' Pat can't handle none of it and let him decide which parts he can. Let me decide."
Connie looked up with her wet face and--great. Now she made her best friend cry. Like an asshole. And maybe somebody else woulda gave a crying girl space or some shit, but this was Connie, okay? She was gonna follow her best friend 'cross the fucking desert if she had to. Hand 'round her wrist, Dahlia reeled the girl in, pulling her back into that hug she walked away from. Enveloping, arms wound tight, forehead pressed up against Connie's. "Listen," she said quiet. "Nobody knows how their shit is gonna end. Not knowing this shit just makes you normal, spooky. Like the rest of us vanilla assholes." Here she was, just watching her best friend cry, and all Dahlia could really think 'bout was how close her mouth was to hers. Like mere fucking inches here, man. Practically felt the electrons or whatever bouncing between them. Christ. That was fucking weird, right? Stop making it weird, dude.
A pause, and Dahlia reached up a hand, brushing a thumb through tears. "I just--" she started, and then hesitated again. What the fuck did she say? "I know I also ain't--great. At talkin' 'bout my own shit. But this ain't gotta be one-sided. 'Cause all I do know is--just sayin' fuck it and givin' up like I wanna do most weeks gets--less. When you're 'round." Her gaze drifted sideways. "Connie, I--" She already tried to untangle all her words over this a billion times, and never found shit that didn't make her sound dumb or crazy or needy. Nevermind what she just said, this was absolutely going to be the death of her. Dead by fucking stage fright.
Unless she just--acted. Right. Okay. Fuck it. Look, she was always a punch first, ask questions later kinda girl, anyway.
So Dahlia tipped her head, closing that tiny gap to touch lips to one saltwater cheek. The kiss was soft, mint sweet. Shorter than the breath she held. Too brief to react to, really, not 'til she pulled back slight and, opening her eyes, considered what she had just done.