Chapter Text
“Did you hit your head again?” Liz asks then, the words only half teasing as she examines Elle in curiosity. Her features twist in bewilderment, the ghost of a smile on her features even as her brows arch to ask, “Also, you think I have a commanding voice?”
“First, no, not this time,” Elle replies lightly as she points to Liz with the pom pom on the end of her pen, the fluffy pink thing near tapping Liz’s nose in a way that makes Liz’s nose wrinkle instinctively in response. “And second, yes.” A firm nod of Elle’s head as she grins, as she moves to meet Liz’s eyes pointedly to say, “Because you do have a commanding voice.”
Liz’s lips twist into what is almost a smile even as her brows furrow, even as she asks, “What does that even mean?”
“It means that you have a voice that people want to listen to.” Elle replies with a delicate shrug as they come to a stop by her pink locker, Liz’s lips pulling down into a frown even as Elle moves to nimbly put her code in.
“People like who? ” Liz asks, amused as her brows raise to ask, “ Have you gone around taking – a poll, or something?”
And the ridiculous thing is, Liz wouldn’t exactly be surprised if she did.
This is Elle Woods after all.
She’s beginning to get an idea of what that means.
“No,” Elle somehow makes her eye roll a sweet thing, friendly and without bite in a way that Liz didn’t even know an eye roll could be. “People like me, silly!” Elle’s words are in time with the opening of her pink locker. Liz is grateful for the way the action distracts from her hard blink. There’s the sound of shuffling in Elle’s locker, combined with a cheerfully casual proclamation of, “I like your voice.”
… What the fuck does that mean?
“... You like my voice.” Liz repeats bluntly, as if perhaps saying it out loud will let Elle hear how it sounds, that it might lead to some level of — back tracking.
But of course not.
This is Elle Woods.
“Mhm.” Elle doubles down brightly, her smile a cheerful beam before she’s moving to meet Liz’s eyes. “And so do the people who read your zine! So I think you’re perfect for this.”
Liz’s eyes narrow in bewilderment, her eyes flicking over Elle in brief scrutiny and — she doesn’t know what makes her say it. Just knows that the words are out of her mouth before she can think better of them.
“What do you like about it?” The words are blunt on Liz’s tongue as she crosses her arms over her chest, as she leans against the locker beside Elle’s in waiting.
“Hm?” Elle blinks as she reaches into her locker for one of her many pink binders. Her tone is distracted. “What do you mean?”
Liz’s brows raise with the question, her words slow as she repeats, “My voice. What do you like about it?”
And for a beat there Liz sees the words land, sees the moment Elle blinks and turns to her and is confronted with a wave of deja vu, of a cafeteria table between them as Liz asks Elle why she likes her—
“... I don’t know.” Elle replies, a confused smile growing on her features again that’s reminiscent of the one that she gave Liz just a handful of days ago. “I just — do.”
Liz’s eyes narrowing briefly before she’s arching her brows to say, “... Well.” A tilt of her head. “You think about it.” A shrug. “... Let me know.”
Elle’s mouth opens and closes at the words. Liz catches her own eyes following the movement before she’s consciously looking across the hall to ask, “You need food for this thing, right?” Elle blinks at her with those big blue eyes as if startled by the change of topic. Liz’s teeth scrape over her bottom lip before she’s letting her gaze fall on Elle once more. “People are going to want to eat.”
Elle’s composure seems to come back all at once then, and she’s nodding brightly to say, “Yeah, actually! I was thinking about — “ A thoughtful frown that pulls down the corners of her glossed lips. “Canvassing some local businesses maybe?”
Liz hums at the idea, because it definitely isn’t a bad one. Still, one of Liz’s shoulders rises and falls in a shrug, the offer on her lips before she can truly examine why she’s making it: “... My mom makes really good brownies.”
“These are really good.” Elle words are uttered after swallowing a mouthful of warm brownie, her blue eyes soft and wide where Liz catches her gaze across the kitchen.
Liz’s crooked grin is one of pride, her own brownie warm and sticky in her hands as she moves to take another bite following a smug, “Told you.”
Elle’s eyes are on the brownie like it’s something amazing. She takes another bite and lets out a sound that makes Liz swallow her mouthful abruptly in surprise.
“Don’t tell her, but I don’t think that even our chef back in LA could make brownies this good.” Elle says with a shake of her head, her eyes are wide and sincere as she looks to Liz, holding up two manicured fingers to say, “And she had two Michelin stars after her time working for Jennifer Love Hewitt.”
Liz unsuccessfully tries to smother a snort, her head shaking to say, “... Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”
Despite herself Liz preens internally from where she leans against the counter, chewing another mouthful of brownie to hide how her chest swells with pride. Elle’s eyes are still on her, something seeming to shift behind them and before Liz can fully register the change Elle is sliding off of her seat on the counter and moving to make her way to Liz’s side, leaning in the space beside her with the lack of hesitation of someone who thinks they belong there.
“Thanks for the idea, Liz.” Elle says brightly then, beaming like — Liz just did something incredible.
(She didn’t.
For Christ’s sake, she didn’t even make the brownies.)
Liz blinks then, mind still processing how Elle closed the space between them like it was nothing for — literally no reason. It’s not like Liz couldn’t hear her fine from across the room.
She licks the chocolate off her teeth then, brows arching.
“... It’s not a big deal.” Liz shrugs one shoulder. “They’re just brownies.”
“It is, though.” Elle insists then, bright as she shifts closer to Liz, making the warmth of the blonde’s body heat all the more apparent as the space between them closes. “You’re even going to talk to the stoners for me tomorrow!” Elle’s smile grows, slow and sweet and provoking the appearance of those dimples in her tanned cheeks. “I really appreciate it.” Elle’s features become thoughtful then, her head tilting to say, “You’ve been helping me so much lately that I’m really going to have to think of some way to repay you...”
Liz’s mind snags on the word helping, lips parting briefly as she watches as Elle examines the chocolate sticking to her fingertip, as the blonde sucks the tip of the digit into her pink mouth and Liz’s brain quite helpfully produces mental images of exactly how she helped Elle just last week and—
“You — don’t have to do that.” A shake of Liz’s head as she quite promptly shoves half of her brownie in her mouth, making a point to talk muffledly around it as she says, “Like, at all.”
Focusing on chewing and not choking is a welcomed diversion, one that pulls her mind away from the fact that Elle is in her house again, away from the promise of next time—
“I want to though.” Elle says then, her tone honey and her eyes meeting Liz’s in the limited space between them and Liz’s jaw goes briefly lax mid chew before she swallows her mouthful of chocolate hard.
“Girls!” Liz starts a bit at the sound of her mother’s voice, shifting farther from Elle instinctually. It’s only once she does it that she blinks hard, that she has to ask herself the reason why. After all, it’s not like they were even doing anything. And yet, there’s an appropriate amount of room for Jesus between them by the time Donna pokes her head into the kitchen, her mother’s smile warm as she says, “Elle’s mom is here to pick her up.”
Elle seems to dim a bit at the news, pushing off the counter even as she gives Liz a winning smile to say, “I’ll see you tomorrow at school, Liz.”
“Yeah — right.” Liz swallows again and tastes chocolate and what she can swear is the lingering taste of strawberries in the very back of her throat. Her nod is stilted. “Sure.”
Elle waves at her as she leaves the kitchen, her eyes warm with that — look in her eye that always seems to fall on Liz and—
Donna leans into the room with a thoughtful frown, lowering her voice to a conspiratory whisper as she meets Liz’s eyes to ask, “... Did I interrupt something?”
Liz blinks hard.
“What? No.” Liz’s tone is genuine in its incredulity, her eyes bulging as she looks at her mother before she’s quick to shake her head. It’s with a hammering heart that she moves to leave the kitchen, that she exits with a parting, “Please don’t be — weird, mom.”
“Maybe his wife just brings out the best in him.” Liz doesn’t know what makes her say it. Maybe it’s the fact that until her run in with Kimberly, she was actually kind of having fun at this homecoming thing.
Maybe it’s because just beside Principal Anderson, directly in her field of vision is the little blonde reason why.
The reason why she’s here at all, the reason why she came, or both — Liz isn’t entirely sure. She just knows that the combination of pink and blonde is consistently at the scene of the crime in a way that’s getting harder and harder to ignore.
“Maybe he’s two-faced.” Dustin’s reply breaks the line of thought, provokes a twitch of Liz’s lips despite herself. Her eyes flicking to him briefly as she huffs a laugh from her nostrils, as she stares at him for a beat.
“... Did you really come here to creep on him?” She asks as she points Anderson’s way, a brow arching as she shakes her head and returns back to her music. “I thought you were allergic to seeing people from school outside school.”
“Inside school too, actually.” Dustin quips back, and despite herself the dry humour has Liz’s smile growing the slightest bit wider, has her shifting to look at him more clearly, to notice that his eyes are pinned just to the side of Anderson that hers were just moments ago and—
“ … You have a crush on Elle.” The words are blunt with realization, Liz blinking hard a few times even as she shifts to look fully at Dustin, even as she tries to ignore the strange feeling the words provoke in her stomach. Her smile is something tight, something she forces to stay fixed on her features even as Dustin scoffs.
Dustin’s head shakes, quick to twist his features to say, “No, I don’t.”
“Oh, it wasn’t a question.” Liz is quick to retort, smile still a tight thing on her lips as she points to him with her pinkies where her hands are still anchored to her headphones. “Elle organized homecoming…” And it’s as if within that moment the pieces click together, a certain understanding (perhaps too much understanding) coming to her as she says, “... That’s why you came.”
She and Dustin have never been — exactly close.
Not in a bad way.
They were — friendly. Pass by each other in the halls friendly. Make conversation in line for CarpetMart friendly. They’ve known each other a long time. The familiarity kind of came with the territory.
But until the other day Liz wouldn’t exactly call them friends.
She still isn’t sure if she would now, even if Dustin seemed to assume the latter as he slid into lunch beside her, as he announced his loyal reading of her zine like some peace offering. As he apologized to her to appease Elle and—
Okay, yeah, maybe Liz had an inkling. A feeling or whatever. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to put the pieces together. Straight people were — painfully easy to read most of the time.
She and Dustin weren’t friends, and yet, under the warmth of Elle’s wrath he found himself coming her way just to make it up to the blonde.
Liz doesn’t know how to feel about that concept, really. About the fact that somehow she is the key to gaining Elle’s favour —
So she very quickly elects not to think about it.
Like at all.
“I don’t have a crush on Elle.” Dustin’s head shakes with the words, and Liz’s lips twist disbelievingly in response, her finger coming to her lips as Dustin gestures over to Elle with both hands to say, “We have nothing in common.”
It’s unprovoked that Liz is hit with a wave of deja vu.
We have nothing in common.
You know almost nothing about me.
So why do you like me?
Liz ignores the feeling in favour of a deep breath, shoving the memory deep, deep down to say, “I have never held a tennis racket, and yet — I have a crush on Gabriela Sabatini.”
“And I have a crush on vigilante justice.” Dustin asserts then, firm and Liz nods slowly.
“Right.” The words are murmured low as Liz turns back to her music, disbelief laced in her tone in a way that seems to make Dustin all the more determined to defend himself.
“And that’s it.” Dustin tries a second time, looking to Liz pointedly.
Liz’s brows arch as she nods. “Uh huh.”
“Uh huh.” Dustin replies mockingly in return, and Liz has to do her best to smother her smile, has to try to remind herself that—
She and Dustin have never been close.
So, this — strange feeling in her stomach is unwarranted. She shouldn’t be — feeling guilty about kissing the girl he likes. It’s not like it counted anyways. It didn’t even mean anything.
And it’s definitely not like it’s happening again.
So, she buries the feeling deep down, decides then and there to put it into the back of her mind along with the memories of kissing Elle in the first place.
It’s not like it’s happening again. It’s been over a week and neither of them have mentioned it.
It’s not happening again.
So what does it matter?
“Amazing!” Elle’s little jump is an endearing thing, and despite herself Liz can’t quite smother a laugh at the display. It’s not mean spirited. After all, how could it be when she is the one that Elle turns to in her excitement, the one who Elle seeks out for a high five of all things in celebration. Liz almost instinctively provides the touch, mind skipping over the sensation of how warm Elle’s hand feels in her own for the fleeting moment that their palms touch. Elle’s exclamation is bright and infectious as she looks at the crowd around them, as she says, “I love sports! Who knew?”
Liz can’t help the twitch of her lips even as she claps politely beside her, her brows arching even as she moves to rub the ear closest to Elle and teasingly say, “You also just might have blown out my eardrums, actually.”
“Oh!” Elle’s eyes are still bright with the adrenaline of it all even as she turns towards Liz, even as she gasps and reaches out in the space between them to unexpectedly put both her delicate hands over Liz’s ears. Liz has to blink hard at the movement, at the way that she can feel Elle’s manicured fingertips in her curls, at the way that the touch is somehow — casual and soft and — thoughtless again like Elle just belongs in Liz’s space and — “I’m sorry!” The apology is almost surprisingly genuine until Liz remembers where it’s coming from, Liz’s eyes flicking over Elle’s bright but apologetic smile, “I wasn’t even thinking—”
Liz blinks hard at series of events, at how close Elle suddenly is, at the jolt in her stomach at the sensation of Elle’s fingertip actually brushing the tip of her ear—
She can feel the weight of someone’s gaze on her suddenly, her eyes finding Kimberly’s stare by instinct before—
“It’s okay.” Liz replies as she extracts herself carefully, pulling Elle’s hands from her ears with two hands gripping Elle’s thin wrists. Elle’s skin is distractingly soft under her guitar calloused fingertips, a fact that Liz has to drop her hands from Elle’s wrists to avoid fully thinking about because how is Elle Woods soft everywhere—
Liz rids herself of the thought with a firm shake of her head, swallowing before she’s giving Elle a wry smile to say, “I’m kidding. Nirvana has done more damage.” A short, curt nod as Liz forces herself to regain her composure. “You’re good.”
Elle’s smile brightens in what looks to be relief, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she says, “Okay, good!” And it’s then that Elle’s eyes seem to scan Liz’s face, quick flits of blue over Liz’s features even as she enthusiastically asks, “Are you having fun?”
And despite herself, Liz doesn’t even really have to think about it. Doesn’t have to weigh the pros and cons and consider.
“... It’s not bad.” Liz replies as her smile grows slow and languid over her features in a way that only seems to make Elle grin wider. “ I’ve had worse.”
Liz was about to go home.
Really, she was.
She did her part. She’d — announced and played music and helped out way more than she ever thought she would with this thing for — fuck knows what reason. And yeah she had fun, but she was about to go home, put her feet up, and relax in an empty house since her mom took an evening shift at the fish market but—
But.
She sees Elle. Cheerfully talking to Shannon, eyes bright and smile wide.
And she sees Miles.
Looking at Elle.
Waiting for a moment to approach and —
It’s all playing out like a bad movie before Liz’s eyes.
Straight people are so incredibly obvious.
Liz exhales where she’s watching from afar, her eyes narrowing in thought because — Elle’s trying to avoid the guy, right?
That was the whole thing with Dustin in the first place. And while Liz isn’t exactly sure if Elle needs her help, she’s pretty sure that she’s the only one who actually knows enough of what’s going on to help.
Well, she and Dustin.
Who Liz has watched make goo goo eyes the blonde’s way for approximately the past three minutes. No — action being taken. No nothing. Just — stupid hetero longing. Which is fine, whatever, but he isn’t doing anything and—
Liz watches as Elle moves to pick up trash left on the grass. Watches as Miles moves to break off from his cross country friends. Watches as Miles moves to make a step towards Elle, watches as Dustin doesn’t seem to notice at all, seemingly distracted by building up the courage to approach Elle himself from afar and—
That weird feeling in her stomach is back.
There, present, insistent like this pressure that needs to be released.
And Liz isn’t entirely sure why her guilty conscience has chosen now to make its grand appearance because –she’s doing this for Elle’s sake. Not to fucking — get in Dustin’s way or anything.
He just — isn’t moving quick enough.
“Hey, you need help?” Liz calls loudly and she can see Miles’ mouth half open out of her periphery as she gets the words out. Luckily, Elle doesn’t seem to notice, her eyes finding Liz the moment she straightens and lighting up in that way Liz has terrifyingly almost come to expect when the blonde’s eyes land on her.
“Liz!” Elle greets brightly then, a plastic cup in her hand as she beams at Liz. Liz closes the distance with a nod in greeting, feet stomping through the grass casually in a way that naturally contrasts Elle’s bubbly enthusiasm. “I thought you were going home!”
Despite herself Liz can’t help the way her lips twitch as she slides her hands into her pockets.
“I mean, yeah, I was planning on it, but then I saw Elle Woods holding a hammer,” A teasing glance over Elle, a nod to the tool in question, “and I figured I had to see this.”
The sparkle in Elle’s eye is a playful thing in light of the teasing, light and warm and directed right at Liz like Liz approaching her was the best thing that happened to her tonight or something and—
It’s kind of trippy.
Liz briefly realizes that nobody else has probably ever looked at her like that.
And then she promptly stops thinking about it.
Somehow out of her periphery she sees Miles take an awkward step back, sees him change his route, and thinks ‘good’. Feels the relief of it.
For Elle’s sake.
Obviously.
“My dad helped me put up some signage in the woods.” Elle replies then, her grin going wide as she says, “And if you’re offering I’d love some help.”
“Okay. Cool.” Liz says in return, moving to fall into step with Elle. She can feel eyes on her back even as she does, and it’s with a stubbornness that she chooses to ignore the sensation. Instead her eyes fall to the hammer swinging heavily in Elle’s delicate hand. “So. Since when are you a handywoman?”
Elle perks up at the question, holding up the hammer with both hands in a way that makes Liz’s eyes light up in startled amusement. Elle’s eyes sparkle to say, “I’ll have you know that I’ve been very DIY lately.”
Liz’s brows arch then, head bobbing in a slow nod to tease, “Oh, have you?”
“Mhm.” The sound of Elle’s hum is charmingly melodic as she shrugs, as she playfully adds a light, “You’ll see.”
Liz can hear the sounds of homecoming fading the further they make their way into the park. Her nod is slow as she makes a half baked attempt to smother her smile. “Can’t wait.”
Liz didn’t quite expect anything upon offering to help Elle but, well. Picking up garbage mostly. Taking down signs. Keeping Elle away from the guy who she apparently needs a fake boyfriend just to avoid.
And that’s mostly what she gets.
“Tada!” Elle’s exclamation is punctuated by the dropping of a sign onto the lush grass and the sound of Liz’s playfully impressed hum.
“Wow.” Liz replies as she attempts to fight off a grin, brows arching. “I’ve never seen a sign taken down with such grace.”
Elle visibly preens, tucking a blonde lock of hair behind her ear prettily as she raises her chin. “Told you. I’m a pro.”
“Oh, you definitely showed me.” Liz’s lips twitch despite herself even as she moves to retrieve the sign where it’s landed in the grass. “Maybe we should start advertising these skills of yours.” A jut of Liz’s thumb in the direction they came from. “I’ve heard from Dustin that the janitorial staff is just one actual guy and half a dozen squirrels in two trench coats, so they might have an opening, actually.”
Elle’s giggle is something sweet under Liz’s tongue. It tastes like strawberries.
Liz’s pulse upticks at the thought.
Her next words are out in a rush. “... Miles was staring at you earlier.”
Elle’s blonde head whips to look at Liz too quickly.
The taste under Liz’s tongue fades.
“... He was?” Elle’s tone is soft, genuine in its surprise.
“... Yeah.” Liz nods curtly with the words, feet sure under her as she falls into pace with Elle once again. “It’s why I came over.” A shrug. “Figured you maybe needed saving before…” A tilt of Liz’s head. She gives Elle a sidelong glance. “How did you put it? Your crush leaked out?”
Liz searches for disappointment in Elle’s features then.
Hell, she almost expects it.
After all, now that she’s thinking about it she did kind of cockblock. Disappointment would make sense at this point. Liz wouldn’t even totally fault Elle for it.
But instead she gets this — softening of Elle’s features. This — sweet private smile that seems to start with a grateful shift in Elle’s eyes.
Liz blinks hard.
“ … Thank you for saving me, Liz.” Elle says sweetly then as she makes a point to catch Liz’s eye. Her smile grows, downy soft in a way that exposes those damn dimples again, her eyes crinkling with it even as she lowers her voice to cheekily add, “... My knight in shining armour.”
For a brief moment, words stop working.
A warmth is spreading from Liz’s stomach to her limbs, hot and prickling on her skin in a way that she knows would be apparent if it weren’t for the olive complexion of her skin and the blessed lack of sunlight—
“... It’s — whatever.” Liz replies stiltedly, breezing past the moment as she purposefully breaks eye contact to look literally anywhere else because Jesus Christ, what the fuck was that? “Literally. Don’t worry about it.” She swallows hard to compose herself. Her fingers clench around the sign in her hand. Liz somehow manages to make her tone wryly conversational by the time she says, “... You were cheering for him pretty hard earlier.”
It takes only a step for her to notice Elle’s own footsteps have stopped. Liz glances back to look at Elle to see her gaping in surprise as if caught and — somehow, the normalcy of Elle’s sheer theatrics has Liz’s brows arching, has her lips twitching as Elle seems to gather up the ammo to defend herself.
“I was,” The briefest fumble for words as Elle seems to blush. “Cheering for everybody.”
Despite herself, Liz’s smile grows into a grin, slow and languid and teasing as she slips her free hand into her pocket and nods.
“Yeah, of course, everybody.” Liz makes a point to agree easily, watching as Elle takes a step and moves to walk next to her again before Liz is pointedly shrugging to add, “And him.”
It’s with a quickness that Elle rounds on her.
“No.” An animated shake of Elle’s blonde head. “No, everybody did great and was — incredibly deserving of school spirit, Liz!” Elle argues, making these grand gestures with the words, and it is due to pure restraint that Liz manages to bite into her bottom lip to keep from laughing. Elle points to her with a manicured finger. “As a member of the cheer squad I – will not choose favourites!”
“Oh, okay.” Liz makes a point to make her eyes wide and innocent as she nods, knowing that the sarcasm carries anyways. She shrugs. “Sure. Not him. My mistake.”
Elle is still staring her down, flustered and pink and worked up in a way that Liz is probably enjoying more than she should. She’s suddenly reminded of Liz’s argument with Dustin in chemistry.
Briefly, Dustin’s crush on the blonde makes all the more sense.
Liz diverts her gaze up to the sky before the thought can fully take root.
Her features twist briefly.
A beat. Two, before her words and Elle’s flow simultaneously.
“I think it’s gonna rain—”
“So, I brought my notebook—”
Another beat of silence.
Two.
Liz’s gaze falls back down to Elle, to the way Elle is already looking at her—
“You—” Liz’s words fail her. She’s caught off guard, face briefly open. Her next words tumble out unbidden, “What notebook?”
Elle’s brows arch in surprise.
“Y’know, the one—” Elle starts, before she suddenly gasps, reaching into the pocket of her forest green skirt with a beam to produce a suddenly incredibly telling tube of lip gloss. “I also brought the cherry lip gloss!”
“... Oh.” Liz’s voice takes on a breathier edge in sheer surprise because —
She didn’t think this was happening again.
In fact she’s convinced herself that it wasn’t.
A dry swallow. “That notebook.”
“It’s also sparkly, see?” Elle says brightly then as she leans into Liz to demonstrate, turning the tube of lipgloss over in her manicured fingers for Liz’s gaze and—
Jesus Christ.
Has Elle — been planning this?
It’s not entirely outside of the realm of possibility. After all, Liz has laid witness to how thick Elle Woods’ pink agenda is. For fuck’s sake she sits beside her in chemistry class.
Practicing kissing with Liz is really just another thing in Elle’s very long schedule.
She doesn’t know why the thought is making the back of her neck hot.
She must be quiet for too long though because Elle’s gaze finds her again, and this time her brows start to furrow, the wrinkle between them soft as she says, “Unless you’re busy, of course —”
And it’s something about the beginnings of a sheepish smile on Elle’s lips. Something about that soft little wrinkle between her eyebrows—
“No, I’m not—” The words are out before Liz can stop them. She swallows. “I’m not busy.”
“Okay.” The corner of Elle’s lips tip up then. Her eyes light up with it, her head tilting endearingly to say, “Is Donna home?”
Elle is still damp from the rain.
Liz can feel it between them, through the oversized band t-shirt Elle borrowed. She can taste it on Elle’s rain damp lips somewhere buried beneath the taste of cherry and—
She pulls back with a controlled movement, ignoring how loud the sound of their lips separating feels in the silence of her room, ignoring how Elle almost seems to — follow her as she leans back, shifting into Liz in a way that’s provokes the feeling of something hot curling in her lower stomach and—
Liz isn’t thinking about it.
In fact, she’s very consciously not doing that.
It’s kind of working.
Elle’s eyes are soft and sort of glassy even after they’ve pulled apart, her eyelids heavy before they’re fluttering open to meet Liz’s gaze and Elle’s eyes regain that slow focus again then. That determination colouring them even as Elle slides her tongue distractingly over her pink lips and Liz is suddenly hyperaware of the buzz of sensation on her mouth where Elle’s were last pressed against it and—
She’s not thinking about it.
“Okay.” Elle utters firmly then, shifting to sit up, shifting away from Liz.
Liz watches as Elle makes the effort to compose herself, a hand smoothing over her damp blonde hair in a way that Liz can’t help but trace with her eyes. She’s never quite seen Elle quite so — undone. Hair wet, eyeliner faded from when they got soaked in the rain, her lip gloss smudged —
(By Liz.
It’s smudged by Liz, her mind supplies unhelpfully—)
Something about it is —
Different.
Liz makes an effort to control her breathing.
“Notes?” Elle asks, her tone soft as she leans across the bed to retrieve the same fluffy little pen that she wrote her homecoming notes with. Liz remembers it. Elle tapped the thing to her nose just days ago.
Liz swallows. Licks the seam of her lips. Tastes cherries. Acknowledges, briefly, that she kind of prefers the strawberry.
She proceeds to scrub the thought thoroughly from her brain.
“The angle’s a little awkward.” Liz says breathlessly, knowing now that the lack of feedback will only make Elle push. She shakes her head a little. “You could — tilt your head a little more.”
Elle’s brows furrow at the criticism, her head cocking a bit in confusion.
“Tilt it like how?” Elle insists then, pink pen still gripped in her hand as she looks at Liz like the fucking — A+ student that she is.
Liz swallows hard.
“Tilt it like …” Liz tilts her head first, expecting Elle to mirror the movement. Elle does but — the angle is too pronounced. Liz’s features twist in a wince. “No, like—” Liz’s hand comes up then, hesitating for a beat as she tries to discern what’s safe to touch. Her eyes flick over Elle’s face thoroughly, considering her chin, and then her jaw before, “Is it good if I—?”
Liz isn’t even finished the sentence before Elle is already eagerly nodding. She swallows. Tastes cherry for it.
“Like…” Her fingers find themself on what feels to be the safe area of the nape of Elle’s neck, the tips of them dipping into Elle’s soft blonde hair where it’s still damp from the downpour. It’s with that gentle grip that she shifts the angle just right, leaning in just enough to demonstrate. “This.”
Elle’s eyes are painfully blue where they meet her own, still hazy in a way that Liz has to try really hard to ignore as Elle’s gaze flicks over her face because—
She’s supposed to fucking be helping here.
“It’s nicer like this.” Liz is able to just barely get out, watches the slightest furrow of Elle’s brows, sees the parting of her pink lips. Liz swallows thickly. “Things just kind of — slot together … better?”
And Elle, like clockwork—
“Nicer like how?” The wrinkle between Elle’s brow is somehow more pronounced.
Liz fumbles for a way to explain it. “I don’t know? Feels better, I guess.”
Elle’s frown is soft. Liz can feel the telltale twist in her stomach at the expression, at the words she already knows are coming before Elle even says, “... Show me?”
Liz’s breath comes out shakier than she would like to admit, her eyes flicking down briefly to the soft frown on Elle’s lips before she’s forcing her gaze up to say, “Right. Sure.”
Liz doesn’t quite surge forward, but well. There wasn’t much distance to close.
And Liz— closes it.
Hears the soft surprised sound that Elle makes and feels her skin prickle hot for it.
The angle is — easier. More comfortable. Liz controls it with a gentle grip at the nape of Elle’s neck, fingers almost in her pretty blonde hair and—
Liz pulls back abruptly then, the separation of their lips wet and Elle’s eyes are distractingly heavy lidded again.
“... See?” Liz’s voice sounds rough to her own ears.
Elle’s nod is a dazed thing. “Mhm.”
Liz’s nod is stilted as she breathes her next word. “Good.”
It’s only then that Liz notices her hand still at the back of Elle’s neck. She drops it heavily. The silk softness of Elle’s hair is a phantom sensation between her fingers.
“You were right. It’s better.” Elle says breathlessly then, her eyes regaining that determined focus that Liz has come to expect. And then she looks to Liz, looking soft and undone and determined — “Can I try?”
“I—” Liz’s stomach does something odd. She swallows hard. “Sure, yeah.” A jerk of a nod. “Go for it.”
Liz— doesn’t know what she’s expecting.
But Elle Wood’s soft hands coming to the nape of her neck certainly wasn’t it.
Elle’s fingers are sliding into her curls again in some sort of strange mirror of earlier this afternoon, except this time, Liz isn’t gently pulling Elle’s hands away. This time, Elle’s fingertips slide deeper into dark curls, her nails scraping Liz’s scalp in a way that provokes a shiver up her spine and—
Liz looks into Elle’s eyes and swears sees something unreadable there. Thinks for a second that maybe it’s awe, and tosses the thought out as soon as it comes.
“Your hair’s so soft.” Elle says softly, and Liz’s breath catches somewhere in her throat.
There’s something ragged in Liz’s exhale. It makes her words throaty. “... Yeah?”
Elle hums, soft and sweet as she grins. If Liz strains her eyes she can see the way the expression dimples Elle’s cheeks.
Elle tilts her head just right. Liz can feel it when their lips connect, as their mouths move —
She’s a painfully quick study. Liz has got to give it to her.
Somewhere between the artificial taste of cherries there’s the accidental scratch of Elle’s nails over her scalp, the sensation producing a sound in the back of Liz’s throat that feels foreign and embarrassing as her teeth accidentally sink into the plush pink of Elle’s bottom lip and—
Liz can feel Elle’s gasp on the bow of her lip before the blonde pulls away.
The disconnect of their lips seems to echo in Liz’s bedroom.
“You —” Elle is gasping for breath, her fingers coming up to her bottom lip with a blink from those hazy eyes that looks almost stunned. “You bit me.”
Liz feels the lurch of panic somewhere in her gut, quick and unmistakable. It’s like ice water poured over the heat of her body.
“Fuck.” The curse comes out on a breath, Liz’s eyes wide as she looks at Elle. It’s unthinkingly that her hand comes to Elle’s chin, tilting upward to examine Elle’s mouth for injury even if Liz knows she didn’t bite hard. Still. “Fuck, sorry. Habit—”
“Habit?” Elle echoes as she blinks. And just like that her blue eyes are bright with interest. “Is that—”
Liz stills where she’s still holding the blonde's chin. It’s only when she watches Elle’s tongue flick over her lips that she realizes that her pseudo medical examination has perhaps put her in a precarious position.
“Is that what you usually do?” Elle’s voice is curious, her eyes flicking over Liz. “When you’re—”
Liz swallows.
She drops her hand.
“... Sometimes, Elle, yeah.” Liz utters slowly, her eyes flicking over Elle as the blonde tucks some of her damp hair behind her ear. Liz’s brows raise carefully, studying Elle thoroughly as the wheels in her brain slowly turn. “... Why? Do you — not want me to do what I usually do?”
It’s only then that Liz thinks that maybe she should be doing something different.
Maybe she should be being someone different.
Does — Elle want her to kiss her like a guy or something?
Liz can feel the corners of her lips pulling down at the very thought, her stomach briefly twisting uncomfortably and—
“No, I—” Elle’s head shakes quickly. Her hand raises back to her bottom lip, brushing over it almost thoughtlessly with the tips of her fingers.“You should— definitely do what you usually do, I think.” Elle nods. “It’s probably better practice if it’s —” A shrug even as Elle drops her hand, even as she grins to Liz to say, “Y’know. Natural.”
Liz nods. The words don’t — quite answer her internal question, but — they come close. It’s easy enough to accept them, to bury her line of questioning deep where she can’t see it because what does it matter anyways.
Elle is painfully, deeply straight.
Of course she wants to close her eyes and pretend Liz is some guy.
The thought admittedly does make her wonder if this whole situation should make her question her own self worth a bit but — it makes sense.
Liz briefly wonders if it’s Miles. Or maybe Dustin—
“And…well.” Elle is shrugging one shoulder as Liz brings her attention back to her, her fingers toying with the pom pom on the end of her pen as she meets Liz’s gaze to say, “... It felt nice. When you did it.”
Liz swears she hears white noise.
There’s something almost sweet in Elle’s smile as it grows, her eyes bright as she looks at Liz. “So I feel like what you usually do is probably working.”
And just like that, thoughts of Dustin and Miles, and honestly, men as a general species are promptly dropping off with a lot of her higher brain function.
Liz’s next nod is nearly robotic.
“... Right.”
“Okay. So.” Elle nods then, almost firm as she moves to reach for her notebook. She flips to the third page, already halfway full. Makes her notes, quick and elegant, hearts over every ‘i’.
Liz blinks a third time. Despite it all, her tone still manages to be almost deadpan as she says, “... You’re seriously writing notes.”
“Of course I am.” Elle’s neat bubble print pauses on the page as she looks to Liz with a bright smile. “That's why I brought the notebook.”
A startled huff of laughter.
“Oh, of course.” Liz says as she swallows, attempting desperately to smother her smile and failing in that pursuit. It’s with a shake of her head that she moves to lay sideways on her bed, propping herself up with an arm as she tries to use this time to subtly compose herself. “That’s my bad.”
Elle writes for long enough for Liz’s heart to stop racing.
Then just long enough for taste of cherry in Liz’s mouth to begin to fade and—
“Okay.” A firm nod from Elle, satisfied as she straightens and beams brightly at her work. “Done.”
“Great job.” Liz replies, startled by the husk of her voice and gulping purposefully to clear it. Her eyes meet Elle’s as she does, finds Elle’s eyes already on her. For a moment Liz stills, her brows arching. There’s something in the soft blue of Elle’s eyes that she can’t quite read. “... What?”
Elle is looking down at her thoughtfully, her eyes scanning over Liz’s face to say, “... I think it’s cause it makes me feel good.”
Liz blinks hard. For a second she isn’t sure what they’re talking about, her heart hammering anew.
“... I—What?” A shake of Liz’s head as if to clear it. “What makes you feel good?”
“Your voice.” Elle contributes simply. She shrugs. “It makes me feel good.”
Liz’s lips part.
No sound comes out.
Elle seems to take that as a cue to continue.
“It’s like —” Elle’s lips pull down as she seems to think about it. “A confidence thing, I think.” Her head tilts. “It always feels like you know what to say. And things sound nice when you say them…” Elle’s tone is thoughtful, her eyes briefly far off in a way that Liz can’t take her eyes off of. “Hearing your voice on the speaker today made me feel —” A slow nod. “Really good. Confident.” Elle’s smile is slow and soft as it grows, her eyes crinkling with it as she meets Liz’s eyes. “Like … This reminder.” Elle nods, the movement certain to say, “ ‘No matter what happens today, at least Liz is here’.”
The sound of white noise has built. Amplified. It’s all Liz can hear even as she somehow, some way, manages to get her lips to move enough to speak.
“... Right..” A swallow she can barely feel. “... Thanks.”
Liz suddenly realizes that it was infinitely easier to digest Elle’s praise when the blonde wasn’t directly in front of her. She’s vaguely reminded of staring into the sun again.
The vague taste of cherry in her mouth doesn’t help in the slightest.
“... You can do that again if you want. The biting thing.” Elle says brightly as she moves to set her notebook aside, laying her pom pom pen neatly on top of it before she’s looking to Liz with a beaming smile. “I promise I’m mentally prepared this time.”
And for a second, Liz can only stare. Dead center, directly into the sun.
“I— need you to know that’s a crazy thing to say.” Liz replies, tone deadpan as she desperately attempts to process. “You know that, right? Please tell me you do.”
At the end of the night Liz isn’t sure if the words actually have any weight.
After all—
She does it anyways.