Chapter Text
Amazingly, Irma found herself up and about before Cornelia the next morning. Such an occurrence was rare, especially given the wine they drank the night before, but as it turned out forgetting to take a dump before bed last night was a costly mistake. Now, after leaving the bathroom and feeling tired in her bones, she found herself back in bed staring down at Cornelia's sleeping face. She always had such a serious expression when she slept. Sometimes she would grind her teeth at night, and Irma imagined that it would drive her nuts in the long term.
The thought brought a smile to her face. 'In the long term'. She was serious about Cornelia after all.
Still, not so serious that she was going to miss out on scrolling through her Twitter feed first thing in the morning. As she did, a flood of messages came through with sudden urgency, as if she hadn't been on her phone last night. Her phone was notorious for giving a delayed reaction to incoming messages, as though not wishing to bother her in the middle of playing Love Live.
A few overbearing and embarrassing messages from her parents (“How's the house? How's Cornelia? Say hi to her family, and don't forget to have fun loving each other!”), a dozen from her uni group chat (someone had started making memes about one of their lecturers and it had caught on), and the guardians' group chat (cornily named 'Guardians Unite!' by none other than Will) that contained a few messages about how Will would happily take an interdimensional invasion right now over planning an essay she had due in on the 3rd.
And then, one message from Taranee.
Irma???? You okay???? It's been almost 24 hours since your last tweet and I'm starting to wonder if the Hales have locked you up in a dungeon for seducing their darling daughter
Irma grinned. Trust Taranee to be looking out for her at a time like this.
LOL you wish. wouldnt put it past them to have a secret dungeon underneath their fancy cabin tho this whole place gives me until dawn vibes i stg
Two minutes of scrolling through Twitter and liking several of Hay Lin's old inktober uploads later, a reply.
Did it go okay? I wasn't expecting Cornelia to be updating us, but I'm frankly shocked YOU haven't been making memes about it
hasnt happened yet, tara, sorry
Oh. I thought you both had a plan?
cornys nervous about it i guess. im chill coming out to her parents whenever but she keeps saying the timing isnt right or something
Maybe she has a point. I'll give you my honest opinion now Irma, lesbian to lesbian
“Oh, this oughta be good,” muttered Irma, wriggling a little to get comfier.
o great lesbian goddess taranee pls impart your wisdom on me
You being here is making it harder for Cornelia to come out. She's leaning on you too much, and if you two get caught making out by her parents, it could go south FAST. This is supposed to be between her and her family, and I think you should let her do it alone. Just my advice though
Irma frowned, chewing on her lip as she glanced over at Cornelia's sleeping face beside her.
kinda hard to do that when im stranded out in the middle of nowhere with these ppl, tara
I know. My advice is either take Lillian on a drive or something while Cornelia talks to her parents, or postpone the coming out until she can get them alone some other time. But I don't know if you being here to hold her hand through it all is necessarily the best thing
ughhhh i hate it when youre right........
I'm always right.
yeah, and i always hate you :P
Gotta go, I have a coffee shop date at 10 and it'll take me an hour to get ready and out the door
whaaaaaat i thought you had a date yesterday?? same girl??
Nope. I'm playing the field, Irma. Tons of gays at my dance school after all
damn, if i didnt have 2 left feet maybe id be a dancer too
What would your dear Cornelia say to that, huh? :0
probably 'you already have an ice skater gf why do you need a dancer too??'
LOL. Anyway, gotta go. Good luck with things, and remember my advice..............
got it, ill get corny in on it too. later honeyyy xoxoxo
Irma checked Twitter once more, did her daily Duolingo exercises, and replied to two of her parents' uncomfortably sex-positive messages before feeling Cornelia stir beside her.
“Are you playing Love Live again?”
Rolling her eyes fondly, Irma put her phone down and rolled over to face Cornelia.
“No, I'm waxing poetic about you to my parents. They told me to tell you I love you, by the way.”
“Say it again, with feeling this time.”
“Wow, even when I'm declaring my undying love you're willing to criticise? That's harsh.”
Cornelia smiled sweetly at her. “I'm just that nice. You sleep well?”
“Slept like a rock after the food and the wine. I don't have a hangover though, so that's swell. How much water did I drink last night?”
“I believe you chugged down about three glasses after we'd finished off the wine. Every time my dad would ask you a question about your future prospects you'd down and refill.”
“Shit. No wonder I feel like a new woman. Nothing gets a water guardian back on track like some good and sexy H2O.”
“So in that vein of logic, you recommend me adding soil to my diet?”
“You're already vegetarian, is it really out of the realm of possibility?” Irma asked, sticking out her tongue. Cornelia snorted and kicked her beneath the blankets. “Hey, so it's Christmas eve.”
“It is.” Cornelia's flat expression morphed into something softer. “Happy Christmas Eve.”
“Aww, Corny.” Irma's heart swelled a little at that. “I melt into a little puddle of gay emotions when you say stuff like that.”
“I aim to please.”
“Well, sweet as that is, it isn't my point.” Irma rested her head flat against the pillow and watched Cornelia before saying quietly, “We're two days behind schedule on the coming out front, but Lillian took it well last night. So that's good! D'you think today could be it?”
Cornelia's brow furrowed.
“I'm not awake enough for this.”
“Better to talk about it now while we're alone, babe.” Irma sighed. “Look, I don't want to put any pressure on it. But Taranee was messaging me earlier and, well, she said something to me that I kind of agree with. Not sure you'll like it though.”
“You're talking about me behind my back?” Cornelia asked, eyebrows raised. Although she kept her tone of voice light, Irma could tell she wasn't jazzed about it.
“No more than I talk about anyone else in the world,” Irma said uneasily. “Nothing bad, it's just, Taranee was asking about how it was going and I explained it hadn't happened yet. She thinks maybe it's a bad idea for me to be doing this with you. That I'm holding you back, or something.”
“But that's not true.” Cornelia reached for Irma's hand beneath the covers and squeezed it tight, afraid of what might be said when they were inevitably forced to let go again. “I'm glad you're here. I want you here, Irma, it's Christmas eve, for god's sake.”
“I know you do. I'm not leaving, that's not what I'm saying,” she said quickly, squeezing back. “It's just – listen, Corny, you're having a hard time coming out. And I don't want you to feel like you have to. If you want to save it for later in life you totally can, it's nobody's business but yours. But I think this is always going to be between you and your parents. Sure, I'm playing a part in it by, y'know, fucking you on the regular-”
“Irma, please,” groaned Cornelia.
“-But this isn't just about me being your girlfriend. They need to understand you, your identity, what makes you pan. If I'm sitting through it with you holding your hand and speaking for you when you can't find the right words, they might get the wrong idea about what it all means. You said so yourself, you want them to understand your sexuality first and foremost. I don't want to jeopardise that for you.”
Cornelia lay back, staring up at the ceiling with deep frown lines creasing her brow.
“I just know that I'll chicken out without you there,” she said at last.
“Nope, because staying closeted isn't being chicken, Corny,” Irma said firmly. “If you're this worried, if you're trying to force it and that's making you anxious, maybe you're not ready yet. It's okay, either way. There's always going to be other visits home and other family dinners where you can open up about it. But I think I agree with Taranee about this. I don't want the story to get twisted and it ending with your parents thinking I seduced you into swinging a new direction with my sultry lesbian wiles.”
Cornelia folded her arms over her chest, lips pulled into a thin line. “I get it. I know what she's getting at, but – Irma, what if I can never come out to them and I spend my whole life living this great big fucking lie, because I'm so caught up in what they think? Having to lie about being a guardian has been a terrible secret on its own, I don't want other parts of my life to follow that.”
“I don't know if being queer and being a saviour of the universe is really comparable, hon.”
“You know what I mean,” Cornelia scowled. “I just hate being dishonest. And this feels dishonest to me.”
Irma lay back beside her, wriggling over so her head was resting in the crook of Cornelia's neck.
“I know my advice usually isn't the greatest, but let me give it a shot. I think – I think you shouldn't let it weigh you down if they know this exact second or not. Just let it happen organically. There might be a moment where the timing is right, or y'know, maybe there won't be. But I think the smart thing to do is to let life keep trucking on, enjoy Christmas with your family, and let the chips fall where they fall.”
“I hate to say it, but that's some solid advice,” Cornelia sighed. “But I still can't stand limiting myself like this.”
“Then don't think about it. Stop sweating the small stuff!” Irma rolled over so they were cheek to cheek. “We're gonna have a good time here, okay? And then afterwards we can drive down to my place and my parents will be there throwing us a damn pride parade and we can be as out in the open as you want to be. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Cornelia leaned over to kiss Irma's forehead, and then flopped back again with some force, staring up at the ceiling.
“...Why can't both of our families find a god damn balance between them?” Irma asked, and Cornelia burst out laughing.
…
Breakfast was, for the most part, uneventful. Lillian kept sending curious glances their way, eyes twinkling with the knowledge of having dirt on her sister that hadn't yet been aired out to the parents. Irma, thankfully, ignored it and allowed herself to be dragged into yet another conversation with Harold about the joys of teaching. Cornelia sent pointed looks towards Lillian, silently threatening her to keep her thoughts to herself; and Elizabeth, mistaking their staring contest for normal sibling bickering, made a point of telling the two of them to knock it off.
“Behave yourselves,” she ended the scolding, giving them her signature warning look. “Sisters shouldn't be picking fights so close to Christmas, it's a time of loving and caring about each other.”
“Oh, isn't it, darling?” Harold chimed in, stars in his eyes. Irma breathed a sigh at relief, sensing the grilling about her future prospects had finally come to an end. “To think, our family is all together – and Irma, too, of course – and the presents are all wrapped so nicely, underneath the tree. The sun is shining, yet there's a fresh blanket of snow on the garden... it truly couldn't be a lovelier time of year, now, could it?”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes fondly, and Cornelia and Irma exchanged smirks.
“Well, I wanted to build a snowman outside, Dad,” Lillian piped up in between bites of scrambled egg. “Might as well, since Mom keeps telling me to take the scarf off of the deer head.”
“Because it's inappropriate,” Elizabeth argued. “I still vote we take it down.”
“Hear, hear,” muttered Cornelia.
“Well, a snowman sounds like an excellent idea!” Harold agreed readily. “I can take down the deer head and put it in the cellar while you build it! Oh, and we can take pictures and send them to your grandparents, I'm sure they'd love to see you working together for once.” As an afterthought, he turned to Irma and assured her, “They would love to see you joining in too, Irma, don't worry.”
“I'm sure I don't need to be in those pictures,” Irma said hurriedly, with an awkward wave and laugh.
“Nonsense, you're practically a part of the family! We opened our doors to you, so you're a Hale for the holiday, no take-backs!”
“Why don't you all get your coats and shoes on while I clear up?” Elizabeth suggested, motioning for Cornelia and Irma to leave the table.
“Don't need to ask me twice,” Irma muttered to Cornelia as they headed towards the hallway. “But hey, at least your dad's welcomed me into the Hale clan with open arms.”
“He gets carried away,” Cornelia sighed, leaning down to lace up her winter boots and giving Irma a great chance to sneak a peek at her ass in patterned thermal leggings. “But... well, it's a good sign, isn't it?”
“Sure is. I mean, he's very invested in my future. If I wasn't so terrified of where my life is going I'd say we manage some pretty great conversations.”
Irma tugged on her own boots and fastened them up as tight as she could, wiggling her toes to check they had room to breathe before straightening up. Cornelia still looked a little subdued, and Irma stepped over to wrap her arms securely around her waist.
“Hey. Remember what we said earlier about not overthinking things?”
“I know,” Cornelia said sharply. She slumped a little. “I know. You're right. I'm getting worked up over tiny things. He likes you. And my mom, well, I'm sure she does too.”
“There. So let's turn that frown upside down, okay, Corny?”
Irma pressed a kiss to the palm of her hand and reached up to lightly pat Cornelia's cheek.
“Wow, you guys are worse than a soap opera.”
Lillian clumsily pushed past them to grab her own winter boots. After a few seconds of silence, she looked up at them and her mouth creased into an impish smile. “Oh, but by all means, keep going. Don't stop being gross on my account.”
“Say what you want, you'll understand when you find someone that makes you as happy as your sister makes me,” Irma retorted. Cornelia blushed a little and said nothing, but squeezed Irma a little closer at the compliment. Lillian shook her head scornfully, tugging on her boots and beginning to lace them up.
“Love is for squares.”
Cornelia and Irma exchanged exasperated looks.
“You know, I remember you saying stuff like that,” Cornelia mused, curling a lock of Irma's hair around her finger. “All that, 'who needs love when you've got pizza and friends?' rhetoric. If we comb back through your Facebook long enough-”
“Enough!! I was buried so far back in the closet that it morphed into 'I'm-not-like-other-girls' Syndrome and that was a rough time for everybody, please don't go digging that crap back up again.”
“If you insist. Anyway, Lillian, you never made comments when I kissed Peter in front of you.”
“Yeah, because Peter was cool. This is Irmaphobia, not homophobia.”
“Ouch, my self-esteem.”
“Just being open and honest with you two, since that's what we're doing now.” Lillian gave a cheeky grin and pulled on her gloves, ignoring the last comment. “Now, I'm going to build the best snowman you guys have ever seen. And I'm going to trademark it with something so you can't take credit for it.”
“You could piss on the snow like a dog,” Irma said flatly. Lillian flipped her middle finger and stuck her tongue out, before pushing back past them.
“Well. That went swimmingly,” Cornelia remarked, watching her stomp towards the back door. Irma shrugged.
“Something had to fill the void once our hardcore arguments turned into flirty banter. Me and Lillian get on like Tom and Jerry when they were in those weird feature length movies where they talked. Y'know, when they would put their differences aside to fight a bigger evil but still didn't get along with all their hearts? That's me and your sister.”
“Wow, they made those? That's more horrifying than that thing you told me about them sitting on the train tracks.”
“That wasn't the point I was making, but if you're going to just look past the part where Lillian literally called herself Irmaphobic...”
They took their time putting on hats and scarves and gloves, slipping their coats on. Cornelia wanted to take selfies for her instagram, and Irma accompanied this with a flurry of more candid selfies that had dumb filters on, sending them to the Guardians Unite! group chat to be met with a chorus of heart eyes emojis from Will, Taranee and Hay Lin. By the time they made it outside, the sun was shining brightly and the sky was clear. Their breath came out in puffs of white in the crisp winter air. Irma took three steps beyond the comfort of the warm cabin and the cold properly hit.
“Maybe I'll stay in here?” she started to say, before feeling the gentle yet firm push of Cornelia's mittened-up hand against her back, prodding her forward.
“Enough of that,” Cornelia said cheerfully. “This isn't so different from Heatherfield winters, is it? And at least the sun is shining!”
“I can appreciate the sun from inside where it's warm, you know!”
“Oh, I don't think so. What's the point in coming to a winter cabin to just sit inside and do nothing, huh?”
“It's not nothing if you're avoiding hypothermia-”
Her protests fell on deaf ears and Irma found herself wading through ankle-deep snow, moving further from the warmth and comfort of the cabin at Cornelia's insistence. They made their way over to Lillian, who was already laying down the foundations for her snowman.
“I can feel you two hovering,” she said without turning to face them, beginning to roll the body. “Make your own snowman. Or better yet, make two snow women and make them so they're kissing and maybe that will clue our parents in, huh?”
“Wow, your sister doesn't hold back on being a dickhead,” Irma remarked. “Though, maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea.”
“Irma, it's a very bad idea,” Cornelia deadpanned.
“All right, noted.” Irma stretched, breathing in the cold air and sighing deeply. Now that she was over the original shock of the cold, it was actually pretty nice. “It's a shame there's no ice rink around here, how perfect would that be? On top of this gorgeous location, the perfect blanket of snow, an ice rink dead centre for you to glide all over, being all showy and lovely.”
Cornelia smiled a little bashfully at that, tugging on the edge of her hat shyly.
“You've never really brought up my ice skating before.”
Irma shrugged, looking away, seeing pretty embarrassed all of a sudden.
“Ahh, well, uh, it was always something you did with Elyon, right? I thought – well, I wasn't sure if you'd want to share it with anyone else, and I know it's been a couple years since you last went skating, but being here in the snow and ice just kinda made me think of it, so...”
Cornelia reached over to squeeze her arm.
“We could go ice skating next week when we're back in Heatherfield,” she suggested. “Start some new traditions. After all, Elyon was my good luck charm at meets, but she never joined me on the ice. It'll be different.”
“I'll be better than a good luck charm, I'll be a fucking team mascot. Singing and dancing and doing cartwheels on the ice.”
“I'm sure plenty of people would pay money to see you make a fool of yourself in a weird costume,” Cornelia mused. Irma scoffed, reaching down and scooping up a handful of snow. Slapping it against the back of Cornelia's neck, she cheerfully responded, “You really wanna go there, Corny?”
Cornelia jumped a foot in the air, a loud gasp leaving her as she hastily swatted remnants of the snowball away.
“Fuck! Fucking – shit – Irma! That's cold!!”
The sight of Cornelia batting ice away from her neck while swearing like a sailor was too much for Irma, and she doubled over as laughter washed over her like a tidal wave. That was, until a perfectly formed snowball scooped itself up from the ground in front of her and smeared itself into her face.
As Irma began to cough and splutter, clawing at her face, Cornelia said sweetly, “Don't fuck with me, darling. Remember this little thing I have called telekinesis?”
“Ooh, you're gonna go there? Remember what element snow is made out of, honey?”
And so began the impossible battle of telekinesis versus aquakinesis. Cornelia was fast and agile, but Irma was pretty good at ducking, and now she was over her fear of the cold she was a lot less afraid to dive belly-first into the ground just to avoid giving Cornelia the satisfaction of landing a hit. As their score grew 10-7 in Cornelia's favour, a poorly aimed snowball missed Irma's head entirely – instead making contact with the back of Lillian's with such force that she shrieked.
“Right!” she growled, spinning on her heels and marching over to them. “You've done it now. I'm involved. You've officially initiated combat.”
“Why is she talking like a video game villain?” Irma stage-whispered to Cornelia.
“Because you've challenged me! To a duel to the death!” Lillian continued, reaching down to scoop up a generous amount of snow into a gloved hand. “Or at the very least, hypothermia.”
“Now now, I'm sure we can be reasonable about this...”
“It's too late,” Irma cried, unable to resist the urge to play along in all the ridiculousness of this situation. “We're beyond the point of reason! This is a death match, and we have no choice but to partake!”
“Well, if you insist,” Cornelia sighed, reaching down to make her next snowball. “I just hope you two know who you're dealing with.”
“Ohohoho, you think you're hot shit, huh? Well get ready, I'm about to smack you both into next week.”
Lillian hurled the first snowball with such force Cornelia stumbled back with a grunt, winded. She wasted no time in slamming Lillian with her next snowball, and Irma joined in, deciding perhaps joining forces with her girlfriend against Lillian might be the most tactical way to move forward. The only problem was, after an indeterminate time had passed (and Harold had taken several photographs of the snow war from the safety of the cabin doorway) Lillian still wasn't losing any steam, and Irma was beginning to move sluggishly. Fewer snowballs were coming from her hands and she was having to work harder to use her powers from angles Lillian wouldn't see, just in order to keep the game going. Cornelia wasn't faring much better, although she did throw the occasional snowball Irma's way too via telekinesis, and these weren't in any way disguised, so Irma knew she was growing tired too.
In a brief opening where Lillian reached down to grab for some more snow Irma ducked down behind a frost-dusted hedge for cover and Cornelia joined her moments later, teeth chattering as she giggled uncontrollably.
“You know it won't be long until she finds us.”
“I'll take my chances just to catch my breath,” Irma wheezed. “She moves pretty fast for a gamer kid.”
“It's pure, untapped rage only accessible during a snowball fight,” Cornelia said seriously. “Like a fight or flight reflex.”
“Could also be that she's the demi-god Heart of Earth.”
“Nope, she doesn't control any of that power until she hits eighteen. This is all human instincts.”
“Well damn. Maybe we just got old, then? Surely as guardians of Kandrakar we should be in better shape than this.”
As Irma's breathing finally calmed, she glanced over at her girlfriend. Cornelia was shivering a little, her teeth still chattering as she squinted, straining her eyes to see through gaps in the hedge for signs of Lillian approaching. She had powder snow dusting her hair, and her scarf was soaked through. Irma absently reached up to brush the snow away and Cornelia moved in for a kiss.
“Your lips are really cold,” Irma uttered in between kisses.
“So are yours,” giggled Cornelia. She moved closer, deepening the kiss, and Irma gradually felt herself being pushed down to the ground as Cornelia climbed on top of her. Irma let out a soft gasp, tensing up in shock as she felt snow crunch against the nape of her neck. Cornelia giggled and pushed her bangs back, smoothing a cold, mittened hand down the side of her cheek.
“We never got around to making any snow angels,” she murmured.
“Yeah, because we aren't twelve anymore.”
“True. This is more fun anyway.” She leaned down and gave Irma a quick peck on the nose.
“Maybe for you! I'm freezing my ass off here!”
“Poor baby.” Cornelia grinned and leaned down again for another kiss, before being disrupted partway through by Lillian slamming a snowball down onto her neck.
“No kissing during snow wars!!” she snapped, and Cornelia fell back in the snow, shrieking with a mix of discomfort and laughter.
…
The best part of snowball fights, Irma decided, was the period that came after where everyone was freezing cold and parents gave the marching orders to take a hot bath, drink some cocoa and kick back before catching their deaths. Any excuse to hop in the glorious bathtub in Harold and Elisabeth's en suite was a chance she would gladly take.
She'd been curious about it since Cornelia had offhandedly mentioned it in a conversation in the weeks leading up to their visit, and it hadn't disappointed; the tub was big, the Hales had some pretty nice hair products and body scrubs, and the water was the perfect temperature to slowly cook yourself alive in. These days when she took a long bath she tended to bring her wireless headphones in with her and enjoy a self-care podcast, but in her haste to get warmed up she'd forgotten it. She found she didn't really mind, though. Sometimes it was nice just living in the moment.
She'd told herself half an hour, but Irma was never that great at keeping the time, and so when there was a tentative knock at the door she bolted upright.
“Sorry! I'll be out in a minute!”
There was a soft chuckle from beyond the door.
“I wasn't suggesting that. I was wondering... if I could come in?”
Irma's face melted into a goofy smile, imagining Cornelia with her ear pressed to the door, shyly wringing her hands as she posed the question.
“Well sure, but I'm still in the bath. Think you could do your little magic trick on the lock?”
She craned her neck to watch gleefully as the lock turned without being touched. Even after being guardians together for so long, the telekinesis was like a fun party trick she never tired of. Cornelia pushed the door open and quickly slipped through, shutting and locking it just as fast. She leaned back against the door, exhaling, before setting her eyes on Irma. Two mugs of cocoa were in her hands.
“Hi.”
Irma leaned back, careful to obscure her body with a mountain of bubbles. Normally she couldn't wait to tease Cornelia with the goods, but being the only one naked at this point in time made her feel kind of awkward. Cornelia stood there in a soft peach-coloured sweater and a slate grey midi skirt made from a light, flowing fabric, but her feet were bare. Her hair was done up in a messy bun, slightly damp from her own hot shower, and her cheeks were still flushed from warming up after the cold.
“Hey. Have you been waiting for me to finish up in here? I lost track of time.”
“Of course you did. There's nothing you love more than a hot bath.” Cornelia perched on the edge of the tub and passed one of the mugs over to her. Irma took a grateful sip, the piping hot liquid making her dither.
“I can think of one thing I love more.”
Cornelia blushed, and grinned. “Wow, smooth.”
Stretching out a little, Irma stared up at the spotless walls surrounding her, a little dazed at seeing no kind of scum or mould peppered between the tiles. The Hales truly prided themselves on keeping even their scarcely used holiday cabin clean and tidy at all times.
“You know, I think this is what heaven would feel like? An endless hot bath, hot cocoa, you...”
“Well, isn't that sweet.”
“If I died right here right now, it wouldn't be so bad. Like, I could just stay here forever. Boil myself to death like a potsticker or a lobster.”
“Well please, don't. It'd be so rude to disturb the authorities so close to Christmas,” Cornelia teased. She hovered for a moment, before deciding to hitch up her tumbling skirt, revealing bare naked legs, slightly prickly (Irma took pride in being one of four other people in the world to know that Cornelia never bothered to shave during winter). She stuck both feet in the water, wedging them underneath the backs of Irma's knees, and sat her butt down on the lip of the tub. Miraculously, her cocoa had stayed within the confines of the mug throughout this struggle.
“Well, hi there.”
Cornelia's toes wiggled.
“Hi.”
Irma gulped.
“Any reason you're invading my bath? It's not like we can get freaky in here, even if your parents weren't prowling around in the next room over.”
“Oh, I'm only in here because I thought it was pretty inconsiderate for you to hog all the hot water,” Cornelia shot back, eyes glinting with amusement. One foot moved up the back of Irma's thigh, and Irma shivered.
“You wouldn't,” Irma stated, watching Cornelia incredulously. Cornelia took an innocent sip from her mug, keeping amused eye contact with Irma while the foot crept ever so closer to-
“Corny,” Irma warned, feeling her insides quiver in anticipation.
“If you tell me to stop, I will,” Cornelia promised.
Irma rolled her eyes. “You already have a master plan.”
“No, I will!” To prove her point, Cornelia pulled both feet from the water, hitching them over the other side of the tub again and swivelling so her back was to Irma. She tilted her head towards her. “I won't do anything without an enthusiastic yes.”
“I don't do anything enthusiastically. Cynical and flipping my finger to the system, you know how I go.”
Cornelia sighed and shrugged. “Then, I guess I can't give you your Christmas eve present after all.”
Irma weighed out the pros and cons. It would probably be bad if Cornelia was gone for too long. Her parents might start wondering where she was, and that would lead to questions when they found her in the bathroom with Irma, and they still didn't have a great handle on teletransporting without being transformed. So things could go badly. But she was already in here, looking super damn cute, offering to give Irma something they'd only ever speculated about while lying in Cornelia's college dorm absolutely shitfaced... and Irma hadn't been on the receiving end of anything besides her vibrator in months.
“Auuugh,” Irma groaned, free hand pressing down into her cheek to hide how red her face was getting at the idea. She inched her knees apart, knowing the soap suds were beginning to drift away from what they were hiding before, and leaned over to set her mug down on the wider rim of the tub. “Fuck it. It's a special moment. Consider this an enthusiastic yes.”
She could hear that Cornelia was beaming as she slid her feet back into the tub, running them teasingly over Irma's thighs.
“I can't promise I'll be amazing at this,” Cornelia started. “Obviously I've never done this before.”
Irma perked up a little at that. “Not even with Peter?”
“Nope. For starters, Peter's apartment didn't have a bath.”
“Great, you can give me the virtual tour later.”
“Are you really going to joke all the way through this experience?”
“No, sorry, sorry. Okay.” Irma finally brought her hands down from her face, watching Cornelia with a nervous anticipation. “Okay. I'm ready.”
…
“Stay still, I'm trying to braid!”
“Well you're doing an awful job.”
“How do you know? You can't exactly see the back of your head, Corny.”
“Maybe I can't see what torture you're bestowing on my hair, but I can certainly feel you're doing it wrong,” Cornelia retorted, taking a grumpy sip of mulled wine. It was already dark, and while Lillian had retreated to her room as soon as the plates had been cleared from dinner, Harold and Elizabeth had ventured into town for the Christmas Eve carol service being held at the local chapel. They were alone, they could be doing anything, but for some reason they'd chosen to give each other shitty makeovers like they were in a teen movie.
Love Actually was playing on the TV, giving the room an eerie artificial glow, but Irma had muted it the second Hugh Grant opened his mouth and hadn't made any move to unmute it since.
“Oh, so your hair has muscle memory now?” Irma asked, tongue peeping out in concentration as she made the finishing touches.
“Look, I'm an expert in this field. I still can't believe I let you talk me into this.”
“Hey, it's domestic and cute of us to do each other's hair. I let you straighten mine earlier and it looks crazy weird, but did I complain?”
“You told me you looked like a wet dog and I should never straighten your hair again!”
“Yeah, but I waited until you'd finished and nearly burned my ears multiple times, because I'm just that nice!”
“Well, I'm not as willing to let you do a terrible job!”
“What an ungrateful girlfriend, I swear to god.” Irma leaned back, satisfied with her subpar braiding skills, and plucked Cornelia's glass of mulled wine from her hand to take a sip for herself before placing it down on the end table next to the pull-out couch. She reached for her phone and switched on the the front-facing camera so that Cornelia could see her handiwork. Cornelia groaned and flopped back, head in Irma's lap and pouting up at her.
“It looks like a bird's nest, as I predicted.”
“What a harsh critic.” Irma poked at the corners of Cornelia's mouth, turning her frown into a forced smile. “There, much better.”
“Ahm gomma leafh-” Cornelia wriggled a little and Irma let up, removing her fingers to give her room to speak. “I'm gonna leave you the worst Yelp review.”
Irma leaned down close, their faces inches apart. “Are you sure there's nothing I can do to persuade you from tarnishing the reputation of my upcoming hair braiding empire?”
“Well, your commitment to customer satisfaction is commendable...”
They tried to kiss, but Irma soon broke off, disappointed. “It hurts to kiss from this angle. Spiderman always made it look so easy.”
“I hate to break it to you, but Spiderman is a cartoon superhero. By all cartoon logic I've seen in my lifetime, they're not held back by constraints like neck twinges and spinal cords.”
“Excuse you, only rubber-hose cartoons can get away with that, your boy Spidey has no excuse.”
“Maybe he just has a really good chiropractor?”
“On a freelance photographer's budget? Good one.”
“Well, he is the only one who can get pictures of Spiderman, maybe they give him bonuses for having those kind of connections,” Cornelia pointed out, giggling at the ridiculousness of this conversation.
“Well,” Irma sighed, shaking her head, “once Spiderman sets up a LinkedIn account its all over for Peter Parker.”
She pushed Cornelia off her lap and wriggled over so they were lying together, faces inches apart. “Hey, I love you, by the way. Especially when your hair looks amazing.”
“It looks terrible.”
“Okay, fine, and even then.” Irma grinned and reached over, cupping Cornelia's jaw in her hand. Cornelia inhaled sharply at the touch, and Irma could practically see her mind ticking at being touched so intimately. “God, I wish we could stay like this forever.”
“How many times have you said that today?” Cornelia remarked. “Is it really that magical? My parents will be delighted to know you hold our winter cabin in such high regard.”
“We could be in a Meridian mud swamp for all I care,” Irma shot back. “Just you, me, and the millions of mudslugs trying to get in on the action.”
“Gross.”
“What, you don't wanna fuck in a swamp?”
“I can think of a million better places to do it, and none involve swimming around with mudslugs.”
“Ah, but where's the fun in that?” Irma teased. “By the way, thanks for earlier. Did I give my thanks while squirming around in the clutches of orgasm?”
“I'm sure you muttered it a few times,” Cornelia remarked with a sly smile. “I'm glad you got some fun out of it. Maybe next time you can return the favour.”
“But you always use the shower,” Irma pouted. “And I'm not as flexible as you, I'd need you to sit in one of those shower chairs while I was going at it.”
“Well, you only have a tub at yours, right? Work your magic next week.”
“I have to wait a whole week?!”
“You're lucky you got anything this week with how many opportunities my parents have had to walk in on us.”
“Exactly why we need to take advantage of this precious alone time we've got now.” Irma leaned down and kissed along the edge of Cornelia's neck, prising a soft groan from her. Oh, she fucking loved that sound. “Isn't it a rite of passage to do it on a pull-out couch? Like the mile high club or something?”
“Sadly I don't think that's something worth celebrating.” Cornelia sat up a little. “Besides, Lillian's only down the hall.”
“She said something about doing a Twitch livestream earlier, she's not gonna come out here any time soon.”
“Still, I'm not feeling it, Irma.”
“Okay, fair enough.” Irma sat upright and reached over for the mulled wine, taking a long sip. She offered it to Cornelia. “Want some?”
“It's my glass to begin with,” Cornelia pointed out, eyebrows raised. She glanced over at the TV. “Oh look, Rick from The Walking Dead is holding up the giant flashcards to tell Keira Knightley he loves her.”
Irma pulled a face. “I hate this scene. She's happily married dude, move the fuck on.”
“You don't think it's okay to pursue someone who's already in a committed relationship with big, grand romantic gestures, then?” Cornelia teased. Irma blushed and looked away.
“Look, what happened with us is different!”
“I don't know... I was still with Peter when you poured your heart out to me...”
“I only told you I thought I was gay,” Irma defended. “We didn't kiss until you told me you were planning to break up with him anyway, so don't even-”
“Hey, hey! I'm kidding. I'm just teasing you, honest.” Cornelia reached over to squeeze her hand. “I didn't think you'd get so worked up over something like that.”
“Well, I'm no homewrecker.” Irma frowned. “Jokes like that... they get to me, okay? You know, back in elementary the Grumper twins used to call Anna a homewrecker. I guess they'd heard from their parents that my dad remarried only a couple years after my mom died and... I don't know. I know they were only doing it to get under my skin but it worked. It still gets me riled up. Relationships are complicated, ours included.”
“I'm sorry.” Cornelia cupped Irma's cheeks. “Seriously. I am. It was in poor taste. And for the record, it really was a joke. I'm not the cheating kind, I would never have kissed you back if I intended to stay with Peter after the fact. All right?”
Irma sighed and nodded.
“All right.” She reached for the remote and unmuted the television just as Olivia Olson burst into song. “Kiss me?”
Cornelia leaned over and brought her lips to Irma's. Her mouth tasted of wine and winter spices, and Cornelia felt herself absorbed into it. Her hands moved down to Irma's waist and Irma scooted in a little closer, eager to close the gap between them. This went on for more than a few minutes. Maybe that's why they didn't hear the key in the lock, or the front door open and shut.
Irma pulled away.
“Hey.”
Cornelia's eyes fluttered open. “What?”
With a mischievous grin, Irma leaned in close enough to kiss, and chose her next words slowly and deliberately. “All I want for Christmas... is you.”
Cornelia scoffed. “Oh fuck off, that was corny even for you.”
“Only the corniest for my Corny.”
With an audible click behind them, the room flooded with light.
Cornelia instinctively pushed Irma off of her and scooted back on the couch as far as she could.
Elizabeth stood there, wide-eyed, surveying the scene in front of her. From the hallway, Harold called, “We're home! Merry Christmas!”
Neither Irma nor Cornelia dared to move. Elizabeth also seemed frozen to the spot, glancing between the two of them with an unreadable expression.
“What a lovely carol service that was,” Harold began cheerfully, breezing past Elizabeth and into the kitchen area. “The choir was dazzling, and the priest had such a way with words! Of course, no one in that choir held a candle to your mother. She might not project like they do, but wow, she sure can carry a tune!”
He began setting out wine glasses for everybody, humming Silent Night under his breath as he lit the stove to warm the pot of their homemade mulled wine. Elizabeth finally seemed to break from her trance and wordlessly turned on her heels, shrugging off her coat and hanging it up in the hall.
“Mom,” Cornelia began, her voice coming out a little strained. Irma glanced over her, feeling a stab of guilt. There was a small voice in the back of her mind telling her this was bound to happen, that now it was over and done with, and all that was left was for everyone to come to grips and move on. But she knew better than to allow that thought to go unchecked. This was not how Cornelia wanted this to happen, and Irma knew a thing or two about how awful it felt for things to happen out of your control. Right now she had to be supportive, but as she reached over to squeeze Cornelia's hand she wrenched it away.
“Mom,” Cornelia said again, more alarmed this time. Elizabeth poked her head around the door, looking a lot calmer than she had a few seconds ago.
“What is it, darling? I'm not going anywhere. Oh, but I should probably call Lillian in, we did agree to let her have a glass of wine in the spirit of Christmas,” she mused. “By the way, sweetheart, your hair looks a little... messy.”
Cornelia stared, now looking more confused than ever, the slight about Irma's terrible braiding skills going over her head. She tried to say something, but the words dried on her tongue. Harold, oblivious to the shift in mood, pressed a glass into her hands.
“Drink up, poppet. It'll warm you up, you look a little cold.”
He passed one along to Irma, who muttered her thanks and cradled it in her hands.
“Corny,” she murmured. Cornelia ignored her, still fixated on her mother as she disappeared to summon Lillian. “She's, uh, probably just processing it?”
“What have I done?” Cornelia muttered. “I left it too late, didn't I? And now I've – I've gone and fucked it all up. All the planning. The conversation-”
“Hey. You haven't fucked anything up. Look, we'll smooth this over as soon as she comes back, all right?”
Cornelia shrugged helplessly, taking a sip of wine and staring at the glass with a pinched expression.
Elizabeth and Lillian returned a few moments later, and after being handed a glass of wine from her husband Elizabeth pointedly sat herself down between Cornelia and Irma, eyes trained on the television set in front of them.
“Oh, it's Love Actually! I do love this film,” she rambled. “Oh, and the airport scene... isn't that little boy just precious?”
“He's almost thirty now,” Irma muttered.
Lillian shot them a confused glance as she was handed her own glass. She hovered, half watching the film, half watching the soap opera happening on the couch.
“It's so sweet,” Elizabeth continued. “Completely unrealistic, of course, that he could slip past the airport security, but...”
“Did you know there was a lesbian storyline in the original cut of the film?” Lillian observed bluntly. “I saw it in the deleted scenes.”
The room fell deathly quiet.
“...I've been thinking,” Elizabeth said after a heavy pause. “It's been... rude of us to have Irma sleeping on the pull-out couch since she's our guest.”
Irma stared blankly at her. “What?”
“Perhaps – perhaps it would do you some good to sleep in Lillian's bed tonight?” Elizabeth suggested. “It can't be comfortable sleeping on this old thing. It only seems right.”
Lillian gaped. “Mom! It's my bed! Irma isn't my guest!”
“Lillian,” Elizabeth began in warning. “This isn't a negotiation. I just think – well, Irma is our guest, she should be made comfortable.”
“That really isn't necessary, Mrs Hale,” Irma reassured her. “The couch is more than fine.”
“No, I really think you should sleep in the bed tonight,” Elizabeth said sharply. Irma looked past Elizabeth to Cornelia, who looked just as helpless as she felt.
“...All right, sure,” she said eventually, shrugging her shoulders. “I'll, uh, head up there now then. Night, everybody.”
She downed the rest of her wine in one gulp and handed it to Harold, who looked bewildered at what was going on. Irma grabbed her tote bag and stuffed her pyjamas into it before heading up to Lillian's bedroom.
“Shit,” she whispered as she headed upstairs. “Shit, fuck, shitting – fuck!”
At least they hadn't been fucking when the Hales walked in. Thank god Cornelia rejected the idea. Somehow she feels like she'd be sleeping in her car if that had been the case.
She pushed open the bedroom door and stood there silently. Lillian's streaming set up was taking up a lot of the room, and she pushed past it awkwardly, lowering onto the bed in a daze. The cat was out of the fucking bag, she knew that much. How Corny planned on handling it was beyond her by now.
A few moments later Lillian appeared in the doorway to retrieve her clothes too. Her mouth stretched out into a frown and she leaned against the door, arms folded.
“So what the hell was that then?” she asked. Irma shrugged helplessly.
“Guess your mom isn't chill that we were making out on the couch when she came in.”
Lillian whistled. “Well, shit. How much did she see?”
“No clue. Corny pretty much pushed me off the couch as soon as the lights came on, so we can only speculate.”
“This is bad, huh,” Lillian muttered, chewing on her lip. She glanced between Irma and the staircase. “What are you two gonna do? I didn't think Mom would... go all weird like that.”
“I don't know, Lil, it's down to Cornelia. She's the one coming out, I don't give a fuck what your parents think I am.”
“Yes you do. If you didn't you wouldn't have been hiding it, even for Cornelia's sake. You want them to like you too.”
“All right, Doctor Phil, you got me. But I can handle them not liking me. But I'm worried about Corny. She's been in agony over telling them. I never thought they'd find out in such a shitty way.”
“Yeah. You guys screwed up,” Lillian agreed. Irma groaned and buried her head in her hands.
“Look, just – do me a solid, Lillian, and be nice to Corny. Try and smooth things over with your mom if you can. This whole ordeal means so much to Cornelia, I – I hate that it's been screwed up like this, and that it was half my fault. My hands are kind of tied since I'm the girlfriend here, but they like you. Shit, I mean obviously they like you, they're your parents – look, you know what I mean. Can I please count on you?”
Lillian unfolded her arms and nodded slowly, coming a little closer.
“Yeah. Yeah, I promise. I'll try and help if I can. I don't know if it'll make much difference, though.”
“Thanks. Yeah, I don't know how to make this situation better, to be honest. I've really screwed up Cornelia's perfect coming out.” Irma ran her hand through her hair, exhaling loudly. “Fuuuuck, I really wish I hadn't been kissing your sister when they came home.”
“No changing the past now. At least they know, either way.”
“Yeah.”
Lillian grabbed her pyjamas and hesitated in the doorway.
“Look, Irma. I know we argue, but it's – it's a joke, okay? I don't hate you. Cornelia actually seems really happy with you around. It's nice.” Lillian hugged her pyjamas close to her chest. “So, I think my parents will see that too. I hope.”
Irma cracked a smile. “Thanks, Lillian. Uh... night, I guess.”
Lillian nodded and quickly left. Irma flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as time passed in a strange slow motion. Before she knew it all lights were out in the house without her moving from the spot. Rolling onto her side, she pulled out her phone.
corny? babe you there?
[read]
sweet gal im so sorry. it was a shitty way for them to find out. i swear we can smooth this all out tomorrow ok??? love you so much. again im so sorry.
[read]
pls talk to me. i didnt mean for this to happen
corny. we can sort this. pls dont hate me for this
I don't hate you, Irma. Of course I don't. But I'm so scared. Look, I just need time to process it. I kind of wish I didn't have to wake up tomorrow.
no ODing on me ok??? im serious!!!! dont leave me alone w these ppl corny
I won't. Sorry, I can't even laugh right now.
i know u cant but humour is the only way i can cope rn
i am sorry tho. try n sleep ok? i promise u everything will be ok in the end
I just didn't want them to find out like this! God!
i know babe, i know. im so sorry
It can't be helped, but God I feel like an idiot.
hey ur not. ur actually the coolest girl ever and i wont let u talk about my gf like that without a fight
[read]
ok sorry, no more jokes but be kind to yourself. ilu so much. goodnight babe xoxox
[read]
With a deep sigh, Irma threw her phone to the end of the bed and glanced over to the window. There was the slightest sound of rattling hail, and she squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the hot sting of tears threatening to show.
“Merry Christmas, you fucking idiot,” she whispered.