Re: [UFO Tourism: Connie & Dahlia]
Dahlia stared back as her best friend shouted her down, mouth pressed into a line. For a moment, she didn't say nothing. "Sorry," she said, resigned, as some of the edge dropped outta her voice, "m'sorry. I didn't mean it none. Not like that." A small sigh, and didn't say nothing more. Nah. Just hung on tight, and weathered the storm. Hugs probably helped, right? Even if Connie wanted to thrash 'round or whatever, it weren't gonna hurt her. Not than she thought the girl would. Connie was definitely more of a yeller. Trying to hug Dahlia when she was mad pissed was just a good way to catch an expensive trip to the dentist. Thus: learning to point her shit at a heavy bag, instead of the nearest warm body. Still felt like some manifest destiny bullshit, unable to stop being the violent asshole everybody thought she was. But at least there weren't no real causalities, 'cept her knuckles. She could appreciate that, even if nobody else did.
Point was--Dahlia knew it was time to shut her fucking mouth. She just--she got it, okay? Like fucking everything else tonight, she fucking got it. Her best friend weren't this huge fucking enigma she acted like she was most of the time, probably on account of them being friends since she was a snot-nosed little shit. So--look, if Connie needed to have some teenage-flavored tantrums now, just 'cause she never could as a kid? That was some shit she absolutely got. From fucking experience.
So that was that. All she could hope now was her best friend would think 'bout what she said later, with a little less anger skewing it all to shit.
Dahlia held her while she shouted, held her while she went calm. Held her as she fumbled with words, and held her as she drew away from one exploratory kiss. "'Cause I wanted to," she said soft, open, real honest. Still the understatement of the fucking year, man, but whatever. That's all it was. It didn't feel like her reason needed to be more complicated than that. "'Cause why the hell would it matter? If you're a monster, then you're still my favorite one." All fact, no banter. This Connie. The one standing right here, in this timeline, looking at her like she made a mistake and kissed the wrong person--whoever Connie thought she was, it didn't matter none. Dahlia needed this one, anyway.
She touched a thumb to Connie's lips, a silencing gesture, as fingers curled under her chin. "And 'cause you out-stubborn my fuckin' ass most days, I know the next shit you're gonna say is m'wrong, and you don't believe me," she said, with a sincere stare, "so don't." Not this time, man. Words never convinced them both none. She was starting to get that. But now that this shit was finally in the open, maybe she could just show her best friend better. Dahlia's gaze lowered. Her mouth lingered near Connie's again, but she left it there, hanging. Mint on breath just grazing lips.
"Though, uh, if you really think that was just a fluke," she rumbled, "I guess we could try it again. Just to make sure." And then Dahlia smiled like a secret, a wry crinkle in her eyes, 'cause that? Was definitely an invite.