Chapter Text
The Villa’s filled with shouts, laughter, and conversation this afternoon, a somewhat lazy day for once. A recoupling was announced for the next few days, but somehow no one seems particularly bothered, or at least they’re not showing it. At most, an unspoken tension has settled across the lawn, spurring the need to relieve it and distract from it. So most of the Islanders have elected to enjoy the weather and the free afternoon, with Violet happening to be one of them.
She walks over to the daybeds, finding Marisol and Priya settled on them, laughing and chatting softly amongst themselves as they watch the chaos occurring by the pool, the boys yelling and playing with floaties and pool noodles. She drops beside them, smiling kindly in greeting at Priya as she settles next to her, legs folded before her and fingers tapping at her ankles. She observes the pool, most of the boys flapping about and splashing water along the concrete, the pile of water bottles and phones close by, and on Lottie and Chelsea chatting by the edge. Chelsea giggles loud enough for the women on the daybed to hear, ringing the water from her hair as she does, while Lottie huffs sharply, standing and stomping angrily inside as water drips from her skin and hair.
Priya sighs, pulling her hair over her shoulder and combing her fingers through her reddish locks as she stands, “I’ll go make sure she’s not about to hurt anyone,” and starts for the Villa. Before she steps inside, she glances back to the pair still sitting, smiling apologetically to Violet as she follows Lottie inside.
Violet scoots closer, filling the gap Priya’s just left behind with a grin, nudging Marisol’s shoulder playfully, settling back to enjoy the sun. But Marisol doesn’t react to her at all, her hands knit together in her lap and back ramrod straight.
She avoids Violet’s gaze, her coffee eyes on the boys shouting in the pool, unseeing as they watch Gary splashing Chelsea. Violet inspects her carefully, privately praying Marisol will meet her gaze and smile, and frowning as it becomes more and more evident that she won’t. “Is something bothering you?” she asks gently.
Marisol doesn’t respond, her jaw clenching as Henrik cannonballs, Gary shouting ‘My turn!’ as he follows, Chelsea’s giggles still floating over to the pair on the daybed, her blonde hair damp from the antics.
“Marisol?” Violet nudges her shoulder again, her frown only deepening as she still doesn’t receive an answer, the body next to her stiff with muscles tensed. “Marisol, what’s wrong?” she asks softly again, imploring coffee eyes to meet her own dark chocolate swirls.
A frustrated sigh breaks from Marisol, her lips finally moving, “Nothing,” she answers tersely, still avoiding Violet’s gaze as she scowls at the air before her, scowls at the fun occurring in the water.
“Marisol,” she prompts sharply, frowning over at the girl staring into the distance, avoiding everything to do with her. “Marisol,” she prompts again, sharper this time. “Marisol,” one last jab breaks the dam.
Marisol inhales sharply, sucking in air between her teeth, “Do you fancy Henrik?” she spits out through a clenched jaw.
Violet’s brows crash together, her entire posture shifting as she moves further into Marisol’s line of sight to better scan her face. Her jaw is dropped in disbelief, lashes blinking as she short circuits and she fumbles for words, “…No?”
“You don’t sound convinced,” Marisol responds sharply, jaw still tight and expression furious as her hands clench in her lap. She fumbles and fidgets with her fingers and the jewelry resting on them, knuckles turning white as remains tense.
Violet gapes at her, “No!” she nearly shouts in frustration. “I - I am,” she forces her voice lower, “I’m just… surprised, I guess?” she looks at Marisol, still baffled and unsure where to take the conversation, but luckily she doesn’t need to decide.
“Why?” Marisol’s voice is harsh, hurt as she masks it with anger and irritation, “Because I noticed?”
“Because you’re jealous for no reason,” Violet answers, not quite as harsh, but plenty frustrated as she stares at Marisol’s features, still urging coffee to spill into chocolate.
Marisol shakes her head stiffly, numbly, “I’m not jealous,” she denies.
“Yes, you are,” Violet challenges.
Marisol’s lips twist as she sneers, “No. I’m. Not,” she spits again, venomous and toxic.
Violet sighs, “Look,” she starts, attempting to cool herself and resolve the tension that’s quickly grown between them, “whether you’re jealous or not, I don’t fancy Henrik. At all.” She throws as much - into the words as humanly possible, and then some.
“You don’t?” Marisol finally meets her gaze, her head whipping to find it and her eyes wide in shock. Her entire demeanor has shifted in half a second, and she watches intently as Violet’s lips slowly raise in an amused smile.
“I don’t,” Violet shakes her head to confirm, before an unabashed grin now breaks her lips, “Pinky promise,” she holds up her pinky finger challengingly, daring Marisol to take it.
Marisol looks at her in confusion with a furrowed brow, searching her features and hand cautiously, “What?”
“Pinky promise,” Violet wiggles her pinky finger in front of her face in a terrible explanation, while her expression suddenly turns serious, “It’s sacred. I’d never make one if I didn’t mean it.”
Marisol’s lips quirk on the edges, “Good,” and hooks her little finger on Violet’s, meeting chocolate confidently for once.
Violet beams, dark chocolate crinkling with it, and squeezes the finger looped around hers tight. She watches Marisol slowly relax, her finger still trapped by Violet’s, “Better now?” she asks, soft and gentle once more.
Marisol nods and Violet releases a huge sigh of relief before falling back to the duvet, finally releasing Marisol’s finger as her arm crosses over her stomach, “Thank God, I was so worried. I thought I did something awful.”
Marisol lets out an unbridled laugh, flopping back beside Violet, their arms brushing lightly as they stare up together, “No, I’m just a bit of an arsehole.”
Violet frowns, turning to poke her in the side and meet her vibrant eyes, her palm cupping the side of her head as she looks down to Marisol. “No, you’re just a bit jealous ‘cause you like me,” she smiles proudly.
“Yeah, yeah,” Marisol rolls her eyes, but she smiles all the same, turning onto her own side to meet Violet, her arm tucked under her head with only enough space between them for their arms to rest.
“Hey! We got a text, everyone!” Priya shouts across the lawn, shattering the bubble that’s slowly built around them. Violet falls to her back, looking over to the Villa to see Priya hanging out of the kitchen, looking across the lawn expectantly. The pool explodes, the boys jumping from the water and Chelsea scurrying over with them, their shouts echoing across the entire lawn. Violet sighs, launches forward, and turns to Marisol, offering her a hand.
She takes it, pulling herself to her feet just as Violet turns away, already striding over to the others in search of the text. Marisol has to rush to catch up, jogging to join Violet again before slowing at her side, her legs moving quicker to meet Violet’s long strides. Their hands brush against each other as they walk, the last ones outside as the others stand gathered in the kitchen. Marisol turns, smiling up at the taller woman beside her sweetly before locking their pinky fingers together, Violet beaming like the sun down at her in response, squeezing the finger in hers once again.
They don’t break their fingers as they arrive, as Ibrahim reads a text, as they file inside to get ready for the recoupling that’s been bumped up. They only break their fingers apart when they have to, but the promise from within them isn’t broken.
Even as Henrik couples with Violet, even as Marisol’s chosen last again, even as the Islanders nearly break into a fight, Violet’s promise isn’t broken. But Marisol’s new to pinky promises, she’s new to every assurance and definite Violet possess, and it takes her a while before she makes another, before their fingers lock together again, swearing the world to one another.