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Aoi sighs as she fiddles with her tie, sucking her lower lip in between her teeth, whining a little bit. “It’d be so much easier to do if I was homoerotically tying this around my girlfriend’s neck!” she complains, as her hands fumble the knot for the fourth time. She groans and pulls the fabric from around her neck, tossing it onto the desk and jutting out her lower lip, folding her arms across her chest. “This is so annoying!”
From across the room, Mukuro snorts, finishing off her own tie. “You need some help?”
“I don’t want you to homoerotically tie my tie for me,” Aoi pouts. “That’d defeat the purpose of the whole thing!”
“Okay, well,” Mukuro rolls her eyes. “I don’t think your girlfriend even knows how to tie a tie, and Saya just sent me an ETA of one minute and fifty seconds, which isn’t enough time to look up one of those TikTok dads, so you’re gonna have to make a decision here.” She puts her hands on her hips, and Aoi sighs, reluctantly picking the tie back up and holding it out for Mukuro, who comes over with a little huff and undoes what progress Aoi had made, looping it back around her neck.
Even in the dim yellow lighting of Aoi’s bedroom, Mukuro looks dashing in her grey suit and green tie, short black hair tied up to show her undercut, freckled face free of makeup save for a touch of eye liner, which really makes her grey eyes pop. She’s not Aoi’s type, strictly speaking; Aoi’s always fallen for more femme sapphics, like Sakura, for example, and Mukuro falls decidedly on the butch side of the spectrum, but still, she’s handsome. Aoi has to admire that a little bit right now, even if most times looking at Mukuro in any way other than platonically makes Aoi’s nose wrinkle.
“There, done,” Mukuro steps back, smoothing out Aoi’s tie, and Aoi reaches up to adjust it slightly, just so it won’t be too tight around her neck. If Mukuro is bothered by this, she says nothing, reaching up to adjust her own collar so that it hides her throat a bit more. (Aoi dutifully averts her gaze.) As if on cue, the buzzer rings, and Mukuro’s eyes fly out the door. “I’ll go get it, but you gotta be down right after me, okay?”
And like that, Mukuro is out of the room, and Aoi can hear her footsteps pounding down the hall, the door clicking and opening, Sayaka’s cheerful voice drifting down the hallway. A faint smacking noise as Mukuro and Sayaka kiss.
Gross, Aoi thinks. Mukuro kissing people is just gross on principle. But she also knows that Sayaka and Sakura carpooled to get here, so she’s out of the room a moment later, grabbing her own suit jacket and straightening out every part of her attire, adjusting her bun, her belt buckle, and eventually pulling the jacket over her shoulders. It’s not difficult to pick Sakura out from the group, not least of all because she easily dwarfs Mukuro and Sayaka in size, but also because she’s…
…Absolutely radiant, actually.
Her white hair is out, as it usually is, allowed to tumble down her shoulders, but she tied the front strands back into a low ponytail so that her icy blue eyes are more striking. Sayaka must have done Sakura’s makeup. There isn’t a lot, but Aoi can tell that there’s just enough to accent her already lovely features, thickening her pale eyelashes and adding a touch of colour to her lips. Sakura’s dress is pale blue, and reaches her knees, with a ribbon around the waist and lace flowers around her sternum. When she and Aoi make eye contact, Sakura smiles, that calm, but sort of shy smile she does when she feels pretty, but she isn’t sure about it.
Aoi’s heart is about ready to pound right out of her chest, so, that’s about how Aoi is feeling about it.
“Aoi,” Sakura’s voice is soft. She closes the rest of the distance between them with a couple long strides, smoothing down the folds of her skirt. There’s a paler blue chiffon scarf draped around her elbows, and Aoi reaches up to straighten it out a little, swallowing thickly. Her mouth is really dry all of a sudden. She feels like she doesn’t have enough time to take Sakura in like this, like no matter what she says she won’t be able to capture how she feels. “It is good to see you. You look lovely, tonight.”
Well, they saw each other yesterday. But Aoi lifts her gaze regardless, feeling her smile widen, and meets Sakura’s eyes. “Sakura, you’re-- I’m,” she laughs a little, clearing her throat, trying to make her voice less thick. “I don’t know how to-- you-- I-- you’re beautiful, Sakura.”
That gets a light dusting of pink across Sakura’s cheeks. There are so few things that make Sakura truly embarrassed; commenting on her strength or her size make her roll her eyes, and calling her brave or wise or intelligent just make her smile, but calling her beautiful… Aoi has found that no matter how many times she says it, it never fails to make Sakura blush like that.
Which is good, because Aoi is never going to run out of reasons to call her girlfriend beautiful.
“Thank you,” Sakura says, softly. She offers Aoi one of her hands, with a gentle smile, glancing over her shoulder towards Sayaka and Mukuro. “Are you ready to go? Our dinner is in half an hour, and I am not sure how traffic will be at this hour, even if it is not far.”
“Oh, yeah! Y-Yeah, I am, just,” Aoi stammers, “one thing first, okay?”
Sakura’s eyebrows raise, and Aoi pushes herself up onto her toes, reaching up to take Sakura’s face in her hands and gently guiding their lips together.
There we go. That’s much better.