Work Text:
Usually spa dates are supposed to be fancier than this, Hilda knows, but something about the personal touch and the effort she'd be putting in would surely be appreciated by Marianne! It's a little bit more of Hilda's thing than hers, but Marianne knows her well enough to appreciate the gesture, she thinks.
As the undisputed master of avoiding hard work, volunteering to do anything that isn't for her own gain directly, it speaks to the depth of her feelings for Marianne that Hilda tries so much. Her words were sincere, something about Marianne just inspires her to actually do some work, primarily out of a desire to take care of the other woman, and also to help her avoid making more trouble for the both of them.
This is a lot more simple than that, though, it’s just meant to be tender -- to supply Marianne with some much needed pampering that she would probably never see fit to indulge in independently. So, as a loving girlfriend, that’s Hilda’s cue to step in and treat her. That’s how they’ve ended up here in Hilda’s room, Marianne seated on the edge of the bed and fidgeting a little, Hilda on her knees on the floor. In any other context the position might be a little scandalous, but that’s not really what she’s going for (though the idea did, of course, cross her mind) right now. Maybe later.
There’s a tub of water in front of Hilda’s knees, as hot as she could make it without risking scalding Marianne, and her girlfriend’s pants are rolled up to her knees so that she can dip her feet in to soak. There’s a towel to the side of the container, some nail polish bottles, some lotion, a nail file -- the works. The pumice stone is soaking in the soapy water alongside Marianne, and while they’re waiting, Hilda hums a little absentmindedly, moves her hands to skim up and down Marianne’s calves.
“W-What are you doing?” Marianne asks, seeming a little startled, which makes Hilda giggle.
“Rubbing your legs, silly. It’s part of the experience! Oh, wait--” She moves just to pour some of the lotion out onto her palm and then returns to her task, the press of her hands more firm now, digging her thumbs in and rubbing small circles with them.
“You don’t have to…” Marianne doesn’t even need to finish the sentence for Hilda to gently shush her, shaking her head.
“The experience, Marianne,” Hilda says, grinning brightly up at her. To Marianne’s credit, she doesn’t keep trying to argue, only shyly averts her eyes as Hilda massages her. After a moment or two of quiet, Hilda chooses to speak up again -- she’s not exactly the ‘sit in silence’ type, after all, though it isn’t so bad with Marianne. It’s not like she has much else to focus on, though, so the chatter sounds nice. “How’s Dorte?”
Immediately, Marianne practically lights up, and that’s always precious. Since they’ve known each other Marianne has definitely gotten… brighter, but hardly ever more so than when asked about her beloved horse. Dorte is probably part of what’s made life easier for Marianne on the whole, anyway, and even though Hilda’s not someone who would describe herself as a fan of animals, she doesn’t dislike them. It’s really nice, seeing her more confident moments and being able to appreciate the loving way that Marianne interacts with not only Dorte but the other horses at the stables, too.
Working part-time there has been really good for her, something that genuinely makes Hilda crack a smile whenever she really thinks on it.
“Oh, he’s been doing really well… They’ve been talking about teaching him some jumps recently, and honestly, that sounds… a little scary, but fun, too. I bet he’d enjoy it…”
Trying to picture Marianne being the rider as Dorte clears a hurdle is a little difficult, only because she has trouble deciding whether Marianne would be looking terrified or smiling wider and more freely than ever before. Obviously, the latter scenario would be preferred, but if she could snap a picture of the former, they might be able to laugh over it later.
(Of course, if Marianne got off the horse and still seemed terrified then Hilda would never do anything but pull her into her arms and hold on tight until she could breathe steadily again.)
It’s easy to pass a few minutes like that, listening to Marianne tell stories and talk about her coworkers (Ferdinand sounds like quite a character, Ingrid seems like a great friend for Marianne to have). Eventually Hilda pulls gently at one of Marianne’s feet, signaling for her to lift it out of the water, and she dabs it at with the towel to get some of the excess off. They’re not supposed to be dry, but dripping isn’t very helpful either. Then she reaches for the pumice stone and takes it to Marianne’s heel, dragging it back and forth.
“Oh!!” Marianne sort of squeaks, again, her leg jerking away from the sensation on instinct. She relaxes quickly, but Hilda understands the reaction, just laughs and smiles up at her.
“Feels kinda weird, right? Sorry, it’s gotta be a little rough, since it’s supposed to get dead skin off…”
“Oh… That’s alright,” she says, looking mildly alarmed by the idea of Hilda practically sanding dead skin off of her, “it just surprised me, mostly…”
“Sorry! I just really didn’t want to interrupt you. Keep talking?” They’re both smiling, then, and it makes Hilda’s heart feel full and warm to see the softness in Marianne’s expression, the small crinkles around her eyes. That’s new, the smiles at all, really, but especially the fact that they reach her eyes, that it isn’t so much just going through the motions of quirking her lips upwards.
It’s so good to see her like that, to know that slowly but surely, Marianne’s started feeling better.
“Leonie was there yesterday,” Marianne continues, her voice a little quieter now, which isn’t too surprising nor something that Hilda finds herself frustrated by. Sometimes it takes Marianne a moment to regain her confidence; she’s not someone who feels comfortable doing most of the talking, but she can lose herself in stories if it’s something she’s passionate about. Hilda likes those times best of all, finds it so sweet and endearing to see Marianne actually gesture with her hands, to see her eyes shine with excitement.
They go from stories about the stables to idle gossip about their friends, something about Claude’s parents being at his upcoming birthday party, comparing calendars to see if they both have time to visit Ignatz’s upcoming art exhibition… Eventually Hilda puts on some music in the background too, low enough that they can still converse over it, but she hums away while she files Marianne’s toenails, shooting a grin up at her when she hears Marianne join in.
It’s good. It’s quiet and intimate, just as Hilda had hoped, giving them a nice chance to just soak up each other’s company. Neither of them are too busy, but Hilda does keep herself occupied with her video channel and her accessory business. Often times when they hang out Hilda finds herself making something, fulfilling an order that’s come through on her store, so maybe this ‘date’ is a bigger deal to her than Marianne, but it feels good to just focus purely on her girlfriend.
Nothing about Marianne’s behavior or attitude has suggested she begrudges Hilda her multi-tasking, but Hilda sort of hates it, a little. The fact that she has to do any sort of work at all is a little bit offensive, part of this young adult life that she really doesn’t care for at all, but with work comes some financial independence that she can use to consider her options. She might like to move in with friends, or maybe just Marianne? The more people, the cheaper, of course, but it does become a question of how much privacy they want to give up…
It’s a ways off, still, but it’s still exciting to consider secretly. She and Marianne have had sleepovers before, so Hilda is aware of exactly how cute Marianne looks in the morning when she’s still half-asleep and her hair is all tangled up. Getting to brush that out for her and cuddle closer to her warmth, burying her face in the crook of Marianne’s neck and soaking up just a few more minutes of being together before having to start the day… those are things that Hilda actually really treasures. It’s fun to split the bathroom and brush their teeth together, the mirror just barely big enough to fit both of them in it.
It’s those thoughts that keep Hilda grinning the whole time she’s trying to pamper her girlfriend a little, finally letting Marianne’s feet dip back into the water and reaching for all of her nail polish bottles. “Okay! Now! What color?” It’s the most important moment of all this, really, so Hilda doesn’t rush her, just does what she can to display all the different bottles in her palms and wait patiently.
Marianne is almost definitely not being as serious about this as Hilda herself is, but that’s alright. the feux intensity is what makes it fun!
“This one,” she says, quite firm, definitive, and Hilda melts a little, looking at Marianne’s tiny grin. It’s pink, a shade that Hilda happens to be quite fond of, too, and she doesn’t need Marianne to spell it out for her -- she’s definitely picking it to keep Hilda in mind.
“You are so cute!” Hilda exclaims, letting all the bottles roll off her hands onto the carpet (not from too high up, of course) and straightening up enough to cup Marianne’s cheeks in her hands. It’s from sheer delight and fondness, the gesture, and the kiss that Hilda presses to Marianne’s lips is almost goofy -- long and firm. When she pulls away, it’s with a loud “mwah!”
Marianne looks flustered by it, which is nothing unusual, but her smile is intact and that means she looks even more beautiful. Her soft cheeks tinted with a blush make Hilda so awfully tempted just to lean in again.
“It’s a nice color,” she says softly, like Hilda was going to question her about it at all.
“I think so, too,” Hilda replies with a wink, settling back onto her heels and giving the bottle a gentle shake before opening it up, taking the brush to Marianne’s toes. Hilda is more focused on this task, so she talks less, but the quiet isn’t bad either -- there’s still faint pop music coming from her phone, anyway.
Her reputation is on the line now, though! These have to look nice. She can tell Marianne does her very best to stay still, even though she wants to fidget. It takes her a while, not entirely used to painting from this angle either, but it’s only really awkward for the first few toes.
“Done!” she announces, screwing the polish’s bottle closed again and hopping to her feet. Marianne looks down at her work, probably wishing she could wiggle her toes, but the foam keeping each toe separate so they don’t smudge stops her. “You’ve still gotta sit tight until they dry, which always takes longer than you’d expect, but don’t worry! I’ve got one more treat for you.” She’s bustling off towards her kitchen, bringing the tub of water with her, before Marianne can really even speak.
In her freezer is a small container of peach sorbet, personal sized, just for Marianne to enjoy while she waits. Hilda’s proud of herself for the forward thinking. The water gets dumped out into the sink and then she’s washing off her hands for good measure, grabbing the sorbet and a spoon, and rushing back to her room. She plops down on the bed next to Marianne and presents it to her with a wide grin, clearly pleased with herself.
“Oh, Hilda…” Marianne looks so fond, so happy and touched, Hilda has no doubt it was worth the time she took to put this together. It’s been great, really, doing the kind of thing that she really enjoys, lavishing attention on her girlfriend who sorely needs it but is so loath to accept it… and now seeing her quietly indulge in a little dessert, too, feels so good. Hilda sits with her, able to take over the conversation now that Marianne is eating, her head resting on Marianne’s shoulder -- it’s comfortable and cozy. Marianne pokes at her lips with the spoon a few times to offer her a bite, which Hilda likes, of course, but she finds that the peach flavoring tastes better from Marianne’s lips. Luckily, Marianne seems willing to let her indulge just as much as she likes, too.