Chapter Text
Elle DelGard inhaled and grasped the handle of her throwing axe as she lifted the loose tank top she was wearing to wipe her face with it. She had sunk the blade into the oak railing to contemplate the last throw of her hour-long session. It was not that she was tired, but having the sturdy weapon buried in something solid gave her a much needed sense of stability. For just a moment, she could again believe her future was a steady desk job that would let her travel. Between this breath and the next, the accident had just been a bad dream.
Although, if that were the case, she would not be standing here, meditating. She would probably be sitting in Lit431, realizing she was too gay to deal with Ms. Eisner in her red-rimmed glasses. Instead, she was halfway around the world, dealing with a fire drill which had turned out to be an actual emergency. Her parents were still missing after their plane went down more than two months ago. Among other things, their will had left Elle with controlling stock in their fashion brand.
They had grown apart in the last few years, Elle and her parents, so Elle felt more numb than sad at their passing. She knew the grief would find her, eventually, but there was way too much to do still. People were depending on her to keep it together.
She exhaled, letting those thoughts flow out of her. None of that mattered right now. There was only her and her axe. Her mind clear, Elle visualized her throw hitting the circular target fifteen feet away, at the other end of the lane. She had already hit it a few dozen times, but none of her throws had landed dead center. This time, the last time, her axe would bite the bullseye.
On the next inhale, she worked the axe free and pushed her ponytail out of the way, sending it over her shoulder in a silver cascade. How long had she been letting it grow out at this point—ten years? Fifteen? Maybe it was time to cut it. Start fresh. Nah. It was part of who she was at this point.
Elle released her breath as she raised her weapon. The metal of the axe was cool against her shoulder, grounding her in the moment. Yes, there was nothing else in the world right now but this throw. Sucking in one more breath, she stepped her right leg forward to put every inch of her petite body behind the movement. Then, like a coiled cobra striking out, she dropped her arm and extended her elbow in a single whip-like motion.
The axe’s weight resisting her attempt to accelerate it felt reassuring, a challenge to overcome. The way the blade cut through the air sent a shiver down her spine. She exhaled as her leather-clad fingers loosed their grasp. This was it. This was going to be the perfect throw.
Following an arc practiced for hours upon hours, the flying hatchet sailed end over end towards the target at the other end of the lane. Before her ponytail could drop to her back and shoulder, the thwack of metal sinking into wood echoed back to her ears. Even from here, she could tell the wide blade was stuck into the wall right on the money.
This was hardly the first time she had ever done so, but something about achieving something— anything —after the last month made hitting the target in the sweet spot feel like a spot of heaven. She clenched her first and pumped her arm in concert with a celebratory shout.
“Oh, wow! Like, totally awesome throw!”
Surprised, Elle froze and felt the tips of her nose and ears heating up. No one else had been there a moment ago. Had her meditation been so intense that someone had snuck up on her? Had they seen her celebrating like some total newbie hitting their first bullseye? Maybe they had just been walking by? Elle said nothing, hoping that was the case.
“So, uh, do ya always come here during lunch?” The sound of smacking gum accompanied the sweetened voice which continued the conversation. “Because it’d be nice to have another gal to throw with, ya know?”
Elle turned to find someone—a woman about her height judging from how she was leaning back on the high-top counter against the front window.
At a glance, the woman’s outfit was best summed up as ‘valley girl on her way to/from yoga’ and was so femme it bordered on aggressive. Knee-high boots of black suede gave way to pale pink leggings that vanished beneath a stretchy pencil skirt around mid-thigh. Above that, her sun-tanned midriff was bare to her ribs. A clingy, shiny black top hugged her waist. The plaid-on-pink button-down shirt she had on over that was tied into a bow even with the undershirt’s hem, ensuring the maximum amount of skin would be on display.
However, it was the woman’s hair that most grabbed Elle’s attention. Her flowing locks were styled with such outlandish bombast Elle could not focus on anything else.
The sweeping twin-tails seemed to hang from her shoulders like an extravagant boa made of fluff so thick and shockingly pink that cotton candy was the only apt comparison. Considering how the ends fell just shy of her hips, the woman’s hair had to be as long as Elle’s own thigh-length pony-tail. That was no small feat.
Trapped in a moment of uncharacteristic hesitation, Elle could not stop her gaze from following the woman’s hair down her body to her exposed skin. Whoever she was, her abs were perfect—too perfect even. It was as if they had just been airbrushed on for a cover photo, except that she was not looking at a magazine, but a real person.
Seeing someone with that kind of cover model-level muscle tone was almost more irritating than being bothered in the first place, and yet, the first tinge of attraction was blooming in her stomach. No. Not this. Not right now.
“Nah, it’s my first time,” Elle replied at last, deploying as much sarcasm as she could muster with the hope that her sass would dispel her feelings of embarrassment, irritation, and infatuation. It was half successful. She turned to walk down the lane and retrieve her axe. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said over her shoulder.
Sure her departure would put an end to the conversation, Elle tried to put the woman out of her mind. Try as she might, however, that pink hair remained fixed in her mind. What kind of person was this woman? Like, who had the time in their day to day life to develop and maintain abs that looked like they were digitally touched up? Seriously, they had looked like something from a superhero comic. Her sense of attraction grew, the waves in her stomach rising even higher.
Putting aside her crush on Ms. Eisner—and whatever kind of relationship she had with Dorothea—Elle was still getting used to the whole “being into women” thing. Hell, she had never been into anyone until a couple of years ago.
At the time, she had been dating Ferdie out of a sense of social obligation. They were both scions of well-known celebrity families—despite her estrangement. They were also good friends and got along well. They had similar interests and were attending the same university. What more was there to being a couple, really?
That changed when Ferdie came out to her and started hormones. With every week that had passed, Elle further adjusted to their changing dynamic. The idea of having a girlfriend was… appealing. She had never considered that she might be into women before that. When she told Dorothea what was happening, her long-time roommate had smiled and hit her with a ‘took you long enough’. She offered to help Elle explore her dawning identity—which is how things between them began.
Like everything else, however, the accident fucked all of that up. Ferdie insisted she needed to finish her degree and Elle was not so selfish as to force the issue. Dorothea had come with her without any hesitation, but they had been living together for a while and the thought of her not being around was stranger than her decision to accompany Elle.
Where was all this coming from, anyway? Why was she doubting herself and why was she acting like she had never seen a super fit girl in person? She lived—and slept with—Dorothea ‘The Cosplay Diva’ Arnault for crying out loud! Why was this woman’s appearance any different?
The answer was obvious, of course. While years of constant, casual exposure to her more-than-friend’s so-hot-it-was-unfair good looks had served to build up a tolerance, this was her meeting someone new. Even if she no longer blushed recalling what Dorothea had done in bed last night, just the thought of introducing herself to someone new outside of a business function was making her queasy.
“Ah, my bad,” Twin-tails said, her voice continuing to drip honey even as she apologized. From the sound of things, she had moved since Elle started walking. It was likely she had walked over to the railing in front of another lane.
Was it unkind to be impressed her sarcasm had been noted? Prior experience said bubbly girls like that tended towards thinking which was as literal as possible. Well, whatever. She might have gotten the gist of what Elle had meant, but had still missed the implied ‘please leave me alone now’ that had accompanied it. Her best bet to avoid further conversation and potential embarrassment was to retrieve her axe and head back to the office.
However, when she gripped the axe handle, Elle realized she could not recall the woman’s face. She had never even looked past the bow at her waist! Really? She been staring at someone’s tummy—drool-worthy as it might have been—instead of looking them in the face? She could not be that thirsty—or was she more parched than she realized?
Even more irritated than before, Elle yanked her axe out of the target and turned to snap off a biting comment, but the words died on her lips. It seemed the woman had walked down the lane behind her and was about two feet away. Her arms were behind her back as her gaze rose to look at the rafters. Had she… Had this woman been checking out her ass? Sure her athleisure wear was a bit tight but…
“Guessin’ you’ve been doin’ this a while then, yeah?” she said, continuing to look at the warehouse ceiling. Then, as if she had just realized Elle had turned around, Twin-tails looked back down and slid her sunglasses off. Her face was even nicer to look at than her abs. Gah! Why was her face so pretty?
Maybe it was the way her rose-colored eyes glittered with mischief. Perhaps it was the way her feathered bangs framed her face. It could have been how her makeup was just noticeable enough that it registered in Elle’s awareness but not so much that it became the focus—that is, except for her lipstick. Like with her hair, the color of her lips demanded attention. Why did they look so soft?
Elle’s hands started to sweat inside her gloves. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears. Her stomach refused to stay settled. Was this how she would always react to meeting a pretty girl for the first time? She hoped not. It had to be the stress that was causing this exaggerated response. Had to be. Right?
Elle could almost hear Dorothea’s encouragement echoing in her mind. “Whadda waiting for, huh? She’s just your type, El!”
“Uh, yeah,” Elle mumbled, unused to being this flustered. “Something like that. I’ve been throwing for—oh, I don’t know—five years now? Even so—”
“—That’s so cool!” Twin-tails said, cutting Elle off in her excitement. “I thought I was the only girl my age 'round here who’s into hurlin’ axes.” She lifted a holstered hatchet. The fiberglass handle was pink—because of course it was, why wouldn’t it be? Still, a customized axe? It meant she was no casual. Perhaps Elle had misjudged the pink-haired stranger.
“See?” Shoulder angel Dorothea admonished. “You’re so bad about preemptively judging people, El.” It was a bad habit, sure, but most people were exactly who they seemed to be. Her initial impressions were never far off the mark.
Just then, her watch alarm sounded. Her hard-won lunch break was almost over and four more hours of meetings awaited her back at the office and then a social function that evening, too. Was it even her life to live anymore? Didn’t feel like it sometimes.
“Get her number if you need a date then!” echoed Dorothea’s voice. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
Elle started to walk towards the front of the gallery. The pink-haired woman stepped aside and then fell in beside her. At this distance, Elle could tell the button-down was expertly-made, but it had no visible branding to indicate the designer. The black and white plaid pattern really popped on the pink fabric and the work on the hems was phenomenal. Seriously, who was this girl?
“How long have you been throwing?” Elle asked, both trying to be personable and trying to ignore the floral scent starting to hang in the air around her. Was that lilac and vanilla? It was the kind of fragrance she could get used to being in her pillows.
“Oh, ummm…” the stranger put a finger to her lips and Elle could swear she heard a squish. She really wanted to kiss them. “Feels like forever, yeah? Since I was tall enough to reach over the railing.”
Considering she was taller than Twin-tails—weird as that was—Elle figured they had both been doing this for about the same amount of time. As she continued to think about their height difference, Elle’s imagination ran away with her. The visual of her pushing this stranger against the wall and finding out just how soft those lips were crashed over her.
A hand on her shoulder pulled Elle back down into the moment. “Hey, you wanna do a quick exhibition?”
“Yeah, sure,” she replied, forgetting she had an appointment.
“Now… what does the winner get? Hmm...”
Elle went to speak, but Twin-tails continued before she could open her mouth. “Oh! I know! How about... the loser has to do something for the winner?”
“Huh? Like what?”
“Dunno,” she shrugged. “Maybe the loser has to kiss the winner.”
Hold up. Was this a dream? Was she really having this conversation with someone she had just met? “But, uh, I don’t even know your name!”
“Oh, right. Sorry, my enthusiasm got the better of me. I’m Hilda.”
“I’m, uh, Elle.”
“What a cute name! Well, Elle, you throw first.”
“Best out of three?”
“Sure,” Hilda replied with a nod. “That works.”
Elle prepared to make a throw. She could feel the other woman’s eyes on her. Was she being sized up or was there something else going on? Like before, she put her whole body into the throw and the axe slammed into the target, biting the bullseye at a different angle.
Hilda threw as soon as she got back, her strike hitting the kill shot to the left of the circle. “Tch.” She bit her thumbnail. “Forgot to call it.”
“I’ll give it to you. We’re just having fun, after all.”
“Really? You will?” All of a sudden, Elle was being hugged. Wow, Hilda’s arms were… big. It could have just been the cut of the shirt, but the woman’s flexed arms were pulling the fabric tight around her biceps against Elle’s exposed skin. Yeah, the abs weren’t just for show. She was buff as fuck.
“Okay, let me grab my axe and you can go.”
The next few throws were quick, competition-level hits. So far, their scores were pretty close.
“Not bad,” Hilda said after Elle returned with her axe for the last time. “Guess, I’ll need to put my all into this next one!” Instead of taking up a position to throw, however, Hilda faced away from the target. What the heck was she doing?
“Okay, ready? Don’t blink now, I wanna show ya’ somethin’ totally awesome!”
Then, without even looking, she swung the axe up and over her shoulder with about as much effort as throwing away a piece of trash.
The thwack of the hit happened before Elle realized what had happened. She twisted around to look at where the axe had bitten into the target and felt a chill. The blade was buried in the very same hole she had made with her last throw. How was that even possible?
Just as she accepted the reality of what had just happened, the axe tipped back and fell to the floor with a clatter that seemed far too loud.
“Oh noes! Looks like I lose,” the pink-haired woman moaned with fake dejection. Had she flubbed her throw on purpose? Why?
“Nah, you definitely win with that throw.”
“Nuh-uh. It fell out—that is, unless you want me to ask you for a kiss?”
The words ‘that would be wonderful’ got caught in her throat. “Uh…”
“Okay! That settles it then,” Hilda said, beaming. “So, uh, what do you want me to do?”
“Well, I’m kinda sorta looking for a girlfriend.” Wait, had she said that out loud?
“Hmm? I mean, sure, you seem like you’d be a blast to go out with but... one game is not worth that,” Hilda responded with a wink. “How about… we go get coffee first?”
“I’d like that,” Elle replied with more conviction than she expected. She heard Dorothea celebrating.
“It’s a date, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
A sudden grip on her shirt caught Elle off guard, so she was not tensed up as Hilda pulled her down. They were going to kiss after all? For a moment, everything moved in slow motion. Did she want Hilda’s lips on her cheek? Or maybe…
“Go for the lips!” Her inner Dorothea cheered. Elle closed her eyes and gave herself permission to take a risk.
The pressure of Hilda’s lips against her own made the bewildering sense of hopeless attraction all-consuming. What had been fascination turned into a full-blown crush in an instant. Beyond thought, her muscle memory took over as the moment continued past that initial contact. Her jaw relaxed, and Hilda must have followed suit. Elle pushed her tongue into her partner’s mouth like she had dozens of times before. However, when she did not feel the ball-shaped piercing she expected to find in Dorothea’s tongue, her focus shattered. Face burning, Elle broke the kiss and turned around. Behind her, Hilda stepped back. When Elle peeked over her shoulder, Hilda’s expression was one of surprise.
“Wow, like, didn’t think ya’d be so into that,” she said, putting her sunglasses back on to hide the blush across her nose and cheekbones. “I just expected to give ya a peck on the cheek to seal the deal, yeah?”
“I, uh—It wasn’t what I expected either, to be honest.” Elle’s watch beeped with another alarm. “I have to go.”
She picked up her things in a rush and fled. How could she let herself get carried away that? Mind spinning in a moment of anxiety, her only thought was getting back to the office. She could sort all of this out at the office.
Once in the elevator, she pulled out her phone, desperate to tell Dorothea what had happened. Among her notifications was a text from a number she did not recognize.
[Hey! This’s Hilda.💕 Tapped my phone to yours so you have my number—hope that’s not a problem. Anyway, give me a call when you want to go on that date, yeah? xoxo]
Elle could barely believe what she was reading, and yet, the thought of another chance to kiss Hilda made her heart race once more. Yeah, she was into disaster lesbian territory now, but that would have to wait until this evening. Or so she thought…
Later that afternoon.
Despite attempts to recenter herself in the fitness center shower, and a lengthy meeting about an upcoming display with a local department store, Elle was still flustered over half-making out with a complete stranger. As such, she was not paying attention as she entered her second meeting of the afternoon.
Had she been more attentive, she would have noticed her next appointment was someone she had already met. Instead, she was focused on reading over their pitch once more so it was fresh in her mind. The designer’s portfolio was familiar for some reason and it was bothering her. Where had she seen this stitching?
“Thanks for coming on such short notice,” Elle started, still reading as she walked around the table in the middle of the room to stand in front of her desk. “I know your time is as precious as mine, so I’ll get right to the point. We’ve got space left for two outfits this season. One evening wear and one casual. If we accept your proposal, you would be creating both of them. How does that sound?” Looking up from the designer’s proposal, all Elle saw were rose-colored eyes that were sparkling with mirth.
“That sounds great! Really looking forward to working with you!” Hilda said, her lips—lips Elle could still feel against hers—quirked into a roguish smile, and were still that same attention-grabbing pink. She had eschewed her flirtastic outfit from the throwing gallery for a dark red suit coat and pink blouse so crisp that even the freshest lettuce would have a hard time coming out on top. Aside from what were no doubt deliberate stands of free hair, the mass of her twin-tails was up in a bun that she could not have done by herself in two hours. “Who would’ve thought we’d meet again so soon, yeah?”
“I suppose…”
She got up from her seat, revealing a long skirt with a thigh-high slit on the right side which matched her coat. Her leggings had been replaced by lace-trimmed socks that were just a tiny bit longer than her boots. The sense of mischief she had radiated before was even stronger as she walked towards Elle. So much so that Elle stepped back and into her desk. With so much as a blink, Hilda put her hands down on either side of Elle’s hips and drew close.
“Besides,” she said, her lips inches away. “This means we can work out the specifics of me being your girlfriend, yeah?”