Work Text:
I've known for a while, you say.
It's three in the morning, and the combination of alcohol and sleeplessness weighs against the inside of your skull. You sit on the floor and lie back against base of the couch, loose-limbed, eyes heavy. You see her as a blurred shape through your eyelashes.
She licks her lips and her eyes blink wide. Known what?
That I like you, you tell her, and it's so easy to say; for a split second you wonder why you hadn't said it before, and then the uncertainty catches up with you. I just didn't want to— you pause to flip through your mental thesaurus but nothing captures the shades of meaning that you want. I was afraid, you settle on.
Jade's eyes narrow at you. You don't fidget, because you were raised better. Instead, you lift your head and match her, stare for stare.
She crawls over to you, then, across the poorly-swept floorboards. Light comes in from the porch light outside, seeping into the room through the half-closed curtains. The boys are sleeping somewhere in the next room and it's very quiet; you can her the click of her nails clearly. The smell of citronella hangs thick in the air around you. Her knees slide against the wood and gather dust, her stockings clinging to her lean thighs.
Rose, she says, and your name is made beautiful when her accent wraps around it. What's there to be scared of?
You laugh a little. If you knew the dark paths of the human mind as well as you know the ins and outs of physical space, you say, you would never ask such a thing.
She doesn't say anything. Quietly, you ask: So?
So, what? Jade says, and flops against your side, yawning. A tendril of her long hair spills into your fallen hand and you close your fingers around it, one at a time, thinking. Will you date me is banal; Do you return my affections too stiff, and not quite accurate besides. Perhaps you shouldn't have drunk so much.
You can on occasion be dense, you finally say, but you're rarely this dense except when you're doing it on purpose.
Her head rolls against your shoulder before she lifts it. She reaches a hand to your cheek, turning you towards her. Her cold nose brushes your skin before she kisses you. It's a plain kiss, and somehow anticlimactic.
She pulls back and her smile is quick, her eyes terribly green. You know, she says, for being so smart, you're pretty bad at hiding things.
You hesitate for a moment, and then lean down to kiss her back; she hadn't given you time to on the first one. You can feel her smile lingering against your mouth.
I like you, silly, she says, when you let her.