Work Text:
Phoebe is awake first. That happens sometimes. Not all the time— but she’s glad it happened today. The June sun is pouring through their curtains, and the bedroom is warm enough that Phoebe has kicked off the socks she fell asleep with (a habit that seems to be the only way Dani forgives her for the ultimate crime of wanting to sleep with toasty toes).
She reaches for her glasses and her phone, kicks a leg out from under the covers, and looks at her notes where she finds a few drafts of birthday tweets she had considered in the days leading up to today. They aren’t bad. A bit bland, a bit expected. Neither of which is how she’s ever felt about Dani. Even the Dani heir audience knows, which is adjacent to the real person and yet through a few different lenses of persona. Phoebe’s never been afraid of persona. She’s found a lot of comfort in layers. But Dani has been wanting to strip a few back lately.
Maybe Phoebe can help.
She clicks out of notes and taps over to photos. There’s plenty she has that are pure, unfiltered Danielle Howell. She’s gotta choose wisely. A few layers, not the whole damn onion.
One is Dani sat at a restaurant where they’d gone on a dinner date a few months back, looking at the bread pudding in front of her with more love in her eyes than she’s ever directed towards Phoebe even after all these years. Another is Dani on their sofa with wild, frizzy curls and her cheeks sucked in to make a fish face. She’s even winking. Another is Dani pouting while holding their biggest kitchen knife and an empty box of cereal. Another is Dani in a charity shop pointing bemusedly, her dimples on full display, at a piece of kitschy decoration that says, “Lord give me the coffee to change the things I can, and the wine to accept the things I can’t.” And another and another and another… her camera roll is full of countless moments. Phoebe has a hell of a time narrowing it down to those four.
She’s going to wait until Dani wakes up to post the tweet. Part of her wants to see Dani’s reaction if it had just been posted willy nilly. But she knows better; they both do. Always check, then post. A second pair of eyes, to make sure it isn’t too much, to make sure there isn’t something they shouldn’t show in any photos. Things still slip through sometimes, but at least they’re cautious. They’ve learned to be.
And slowly they’re learning to be a little less. But very slowly. Slow enough for Phoebe to wait for the birthday girl to wake up and give her thumbs up.
In the meantime, Phoebe can slip down to the bakery two blocks away and still be back in bed when Dani blinks open her eyes, smiley and all soft around her edges— if she’s quick.