ωєιѕѕ ѕ¢нηєє (notmadeofstone) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2019-05-22 20:23:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, feyre archeron, weiss schnee |
Who: Feyre and Weiss
What: Actual gal pals having a moment
When: Sometime between Mid March and Mid April
Where: A hotel room
Rating/Warnings: They're naked, but that's about it.
Status: Complete!
“I’m going to assume you’re used to much classier hotels,” Feyre joked, reclining on the little chair in front of the window and peeking out. This was the … third time? They’d met like this, and while it amused her, she worried what people might say; and the worse part is they didn’t always do the benefits part of friends with benefits.
Though today had definitely had some benefits, considering she was stark nude.
She had her wings out, lazily stretching one. “I always worry about cameras.”
"They'll take their pictures no matter where we go, I think. But father actually hired someone to take the last ones. There's definitely less of a risk of it happening now." Weiss replied.
One of her fingers kept reaching up towards Feyre's wings and stopping a half of an inch away from making contact. She already knew the wings were extremely sensitive; Had already had her fun, and she wasn't sure she wanted to start up another round.
But she also found the things too fascinating to leave alone. "But yes, I AM used to higher priced hotels. I'm used to higher priced... everything, really. It's ridiculous. The things I can still afford, even with everything we're closing down. Meanwhile so many are forced to do without."
Feyre glanced back at Weiss, smiling lightly. It was so nice to be herself around someone, and just as nice to see Weiss open. She’d hated her for so long that this was… certainly a turn of events.
But she wouldn’t change what they had now, with the exception of either of them actually dating someone. So she used her wing to draw Weiss in close. “You want to know a good place to help? Soup kitchens and shelters. I … don’t like to admit how much I had to rely on food banks.”
Or how tight it still was, even if her art was doing well and her dad was starting to work again. Feyre barely knew what to do with free time.
"Ilia helps out a shelter for... I think it's specifically women who are escaping from abusive situations. I definitely want to help out there, as well, but food banks and soup kitchens are another great idea." Weiss replied, while scooting in closer to Feyre. It was definitely odd to be here, spilling things she normally kept to herself - especially to someone whose family her father had wrecked so disastrously.
She glanced up at Feyre, her brows puckering a bit before asking, "Would you accept any help from me at this point? I wouldn't want to cause any more awkwardness, but I feel like we definitely owe your family something."
With her wing almost like a safe cocoon around Weiss, Feyre listened to her speak. She thought maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to help out like that, but she didn’t really have the free time to do so. “I want to say I’m too proud and stubborn to accept help, but…”
Feyre shook her head. “I think it depends on the help. I stopped caring a long time ago about that kind of pride.”
“Well…” Weiss replied, still looking thoughtful. “Actually, in any way that would be best. I could use some contacts to help your father get a job, I could probably use some of the funds we collected for the families we wrecked to set you and your sisters up with scholarship money for college? I just want to do something.”
So much had happened; Things that were not her fault, but that she’d been blind to, things that her father had done to her and her friends and countless others. Weiss was tired of feeling helpless. Now that she was in control of most of the money, she could use that to fight her battles. It wasn’t the only thing she could do, but it was a great way to spend it.
It was incredibly tempting, Feyre thought and a part of her wanted to jump on just about any option available to her. She wet her lips, then replied. “We can start with helping dad out, which will help me out. And Elain could stand to get a degree…”
But nothing for herself, nothing about herself. It was always her family first, even if going to college would help Feyre immensely.
“Even you just… offering means a lot.”
"You know how much further your art would go if you had more professional instruction though, don't you?" Weiss asked, squinting at Feyre a bit.
She was already making mental notes for Feyre's father, and Elain, but she wasn't about to just let her friend sacrifice her own needs. There had been enough of that in her real life, and in her dreams, too. "You could learn to do it digitally, gain access to all of those fancy paint programs... A lot of those schools even offer you job placement."
Feyre chewed on her lip, still torn between the need to be independent and the fact that she’d spent far too long in her life suffering to turn down help.
So she looked at Weiss, listening to her as if they weren’t both naked, or as if that was the most natural thing in the world (and it was). “I’ve been trying to learn it digitally on my own. I won a tablet in a contest awhile back but… maybe you’re right.”
She shifted, leaning her shoulder against Weiss and wrapping a wing around them. It might be worth it just for the paint programs alone.
It was natural. Weiss could always be a hundred percent herself around Feyre. Though she wasn't sharing the same dream world, she imagined that Feyre had become, for her, what the friends Feyre'd found in the Night Court were for her. People who understood, and were there to talk about it - or not talk about it, and either way they were always there.
"I won't press, Feyre. But you know you're worth it, too, right? Because you all are." Weiss paused, and scrunched her nose. "Well, maybe not Nesta..."
That was exactly it, even if Feyre might never find the words for it. Weiss understood her in ways few could and the only way Feyre could think to describe it was with canvas and paint. Yes yes, that was what she’d have to do. Paint it, the same way she’d painted the other things, the same way art had become her escape and her life.
She smiled, pressing her forehead against Weiss’s and kissing her cheek lightly. “Thank you, Weiss.”
And then she turned further, enveloping her, until there were no more words and only actions.