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- Coronation Street (13)
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Summary
"You okay, sweetheart?"
The blonde turns to her with a gentle smile, leans back against the windowsill, bright-eyed and wide awake. Still whispering, though, into the peaceful quiet of the room when she gleefully tells Carla, "Ryan owes me a tenner."
"Oh," she chuckles, voice husky with sleep. Well, that explains the weird glow. "It snowed?"
Lisa's grin breaks across her pretty face. "It did, indeed."
Or: Snow, novelty socks, and plans.
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Summary
Carla knows, then, with a certainty so sudden it's almost shocking, that this, this thing, didn't start last month. It didn't randomly spark during the early-October evening when they were loose-lipped, half-tipsy with wine, when the blonde had settled cosily on her shoulder like she belonged there.
No, it's been smouldering away in the background, building and building, for a long, long time.
It's been six months in the making.
Or: "Don't get dressed" and everything else.
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Summary
"'Ey, Lis', have you moved my- What-" She cuts herself off with a sharp yelp of a laugh as she exits the en suite, towel-clad, hair dripping. "What're you doing?"
"Trying to catch a breeze," Lisa grumbles, eyes closed.
"And here's me thinking I'd walked in on a very serene seduction."
Or: Heat and chills.
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Summary
Carla pulls herself up on an elbow.
Confused.
Frowning.
(A little bit fucking devastated.)
“Where is it?”
“Where’s what?” Lisa asks innocently.
(Too flamin’ innocently.)
Or: Something's missing.
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Summary
At least half of their bickers are resolved by the need to touch.
To be touched.
It's almost comical, really.
The constant need, the physical need to be close.
Or: Three times Carla and Lisa's bickers are resolved by physical touch.

