Chapter Text
Bea tossed her phone onto her bed and flopped onto the pile of fluffy cushions and blankets soon after. With a huff she wrapped her manicured nails around the object of her addiction, aimlessly scrolling through her socials. Shit was boring these days. No T to pore over, no scheming bitches sliding into her DMs, no random snaps of the best and beautiful of Belvoire lounging by the Clubhouse pool. A faint ding pinged in her hand, and Bea groaned, letting her face flop into the mattress. What she got instead was notifications like that - emails and applications and just things that needed to be done. Real world things, adult things, like getting her life in order, getting a big girl job. That wasn’t what Bea was about right now. She rolled over, reaching for a stuffed plushie of a pig that she had won for Poppy last time they were at the pier and smushing her face into it. Bea absentmindedly squished the plushie as her thoughts turned to the pink princess herself.
Leaving Belvoire had been a combination of so many emotions and people that it passed in a whirlwind. Before Bea knew it, the wellwishes and tearful goodbyes turned into.. Silence. There was no bestie to drag her out of bed for her 9am - let's be honest, 11am - classes. There was no ‘dreamy’ professor to dodge advances from, no fratboys to tease, no gossip to luxuriate in. But worst of all.. There was no Poppy. Bea sighed dramatically, covering her face with her arm. It had been weeks since Bea had seen hide nor hair of her and she could feel the familiar lingering of Poppy in her thoughts, just like Chanel No. 5 whenever she left a room. Bea scrunched her eyes against her arm. Responsibilities abound, opportunities and invitations from Apoidea were at her feet.. But after all the hellfire and brimstone of her last year, all the push and pull as Poppy liked to put it.. It had left her pushed. Pushed to the edge of a plateau that Bea desperately had her fingers clinging to. Bea felt at the edges of something, on the cusp of something just out of her reach that she wanted so badly.
And that was Poppy. They had gotten close in her last year, closer than Bea ever thought Poppy would let her if she was honest. The amount of dirty laundry and bad blood between them was more sour than ole’ Steiny’s face. But there was something else. Bea didn’t know if it was raw animal magnetism or if Poppy was some godforsaken soulmate from another life.. Because she just couldn’t get that damned snooty heiress out of her head. Poppy was like cool water; she satisfied Bea’s thirst like no other. Sometimes she would show a hidden depth to her that Bea got glimpses of; deep murky pools that she wanted to dive into and explore. And yet other times - when Bea wasn’t careful not to disturb her surface - she would cast right through her fingers, icy and slippery and draining away until Bea was left there high and dry and hot and bothered. Poppy was elusive, and Bea huffed, knowing the arrogant tart herself would be as smug as a cat with the cream if she knew Bea were here pining after her.
Bea opened her messages again, her thumbs tapping on autopilot until she was in her chat with Poppy. The faint sound of her voice from months ago lulled in her head. ‘ Text me if you want to do this again..’ . Bea groaned, rubbing her face and probably smearing mascara and eyeliner everywhere. Did that still apply when they weren’t even at the same school anymore? Did it still apply when you were both supposed to have moved on from being enemies to being .. adults? What was she even supposed to say?
Bea stared at her phone, hoping the cracks in her well-loved screen protector might reveal the mysteries of how to message your nemesis-turned-nightly fixation after weeks of radio silence. Her thumbs hovered there, hesitating like a little claw machine that just didn’t know damn well what to pick. With a little shriek definitely unbecoming of a former queen (and maybe a teeny bit Poppy inspired), Bea’s phone hit the wall with a sad chime.
“Screw this,” Bea grunts, whipping the blankets off and tossing piggy aside. She stalks her bedroom, picking up her discarded bra and marching over to the closet. “I’m not gonna sit here and vegetate. I’m a Queen, after all.”
Not long later, phone with newly formed crack in hand, Bea marches her way down the busy New York sidewalk. The air was cool and Bea did her best celeb dodging paparazzo impression, keeping her scarf wrapped high around her neck and a pair of chic Chanel sunglasses covering her deadened eyes. Coffee was what she needed. And fast. A bit of caffeine and adrenaline running through her system and she’d be right back to making stupid reckless decisions in no time.
The bell above the coffeeshop door chimes Bea’s arrival, and she slid her sunglasses up her forehead to rest in her curly blonde locks. The cafe was a small one, mostly full of college students poring over black coffee and pirated textbooks on their macbooks, and the occasional Parisian intellectual reading a book balanced on their knee by the window while they nibble on buttery croissants. Bea tries not to stomp her way to the counter, acknowledging the barista’s warm smile with a grunt of butchered Italian that would make her Nonna cry. A short time later, macchiato in hand, she turns to leave the cafe only to stop dead in her tracks at the blessed sight standing right there in the doorway. Bea kind of wishes she’d left her sunglasses on, because she can feel her eyebrows physically ascending up her forehead like they’re making a break for heaven without her.
“Ugh, Farmsville. Why am I not surprised that you of all-”
Bea rushes across the cafe like a bad boyfriend in the airport at the end of a romcom, delighting in the way Poppy’s mouth actually falls open in surprise as she approaches. Bea had no idea what the ex-Ice Queen herself was doing here, but she wasn’t about to complain when her brain was doing a little jig of excitement, firing off all sorts of happy chemicals and signals at the sight of barbie pink and blonde.
“Wait!” Poppy jostles on the spot, raising her palm in a stop motion at the wall of lean-muscle and love coming her way. “Don’t you dare hug me Farmsville. My ribs have hardly recovered from the last time. And I don’t want your stink all..”
Bea tunes her out, heart-eyes in full force as she stares down at Poppy, who in turn is scowling up at her with such a delicious curl of her lip. And yet those narrowed mistrustful eyes can’t seem to leave Bea’s face despite the barbed words rolling off her tongue. The familiar banter does nothing but make Bea grin like a fool as she takes Poppy in. Its only been what, a month? But damn it felt good to see her. Smell her, too. Bea unconsciously leans closer, eyes drifting to Poppy’s neck as she breathes in the familiar scent of her perfume.
“Are you even listening to me?” Poppy’s demanding tone breaks Bea out of her reverie and she nods with a smirk that says absolutely not .
“Yeah. You said no hugs. But nothing about this..”
Bea leans in, and without further ado, plants a soft kiss on Poppy’s bubblepink lips. Her mouth is as sweet and slightly sticky from her lipstick as Bea remembered, and hot damn does she need more of that. She moves her lips gently, kissing Poppy for a few seconds longer than is completely appropriate in a coffeeshop with less square footage than Poppy’s walk-in wardrobe, but she just can’t resist. A common theme, when it comes to one Miss Min-Sinclair.
Poppy is the one to break the embrace. She leans her head back but doesn’t step away. She watches as Bea takes a moment to realise; slowly opening her eyes and looking down at her. Watches as Bea’s green eyes dazedly linger on her lips, on the faint pink blush she can feel burning on her cheeks, on her own eyes.
“What the hell was that?” Poppy mutters, trying to sound offended and angry and whatever else, but Bea only smirks, noting the way Poppy can’t hold her gaze, can’t seem to step away despite all her protesting, can’t quite shake the softness in her voice.
“That was a traditional Farmsville greeting. Wan’ another?” Bea grins, still lingering in Poppy’s personal space.
Poppy scoffs, finally managing to regain some of her self-control. She places a hand on Bea’s chest only to shove her away and stalk past, pretending not to notice literally every other patron of the cafe staring at them like they’re two star-crossed lovers as she goes to order her coffee. Bea, naturally, follows along like a puppydog, grin still on her face.
“What are you even doing here, Pops? I thought Mommy and Daddy would have spirited you off to some gifted graduate programme by now.” Bea asks, sauntering over to the counter and leaning against it like she owned the place.
Poppy says nothing, merely shoots Bea a filthy look and resumes staring daggers into the Barista’s back as they rush to prepare whatever sugar-free soy monstrosity it is that she’s ordered. So, naturally, Bea can’t resist needling a little more.
“Aw, c’mon Poppy. I missed you. Not even gonna give me a few zingers for the road?” Bea grins, honeying her words just enough to rile Poppy up a bit more.
“I’m not surprised your life without me has slid back into irrelevancy, Peasant.” Poppy sniffs, placing her bills on the counter and taking her coffee like its precious nectar. She turns on her heel, ignoring the friendly barista’s wave as she stalks back out of the cafe. Bea is helpless to follow, trying to avoid being smacked by the tinkling bell as she catches the door Poppy let slam closed behind her on the way out. Bea jogs a few steps to catch up, wondering how the hell she’s managing to move so fast in five inch heels through the icy slush on the streets. This wasn't going like the daytime TV shows had told her it would. She hadn't even got to tease Poppy about the matching shade of her scarf! Or dip and kiss her over a steaming vent! She needed to stop her.
“Wait, Poppy-” Bea cuts her half-jog, reaching out to snag Poppy by the wrist.
Poppy gives a huff and a long-suffering sigh, like she’d been expecting this torturous moment. Bea watches as she turns on the spot, glaring at her over the rim of her coffee as she sips it. Its then that Bea also feels a lump form in her throat as she takes in the sight. Poppy stands there, giving her that familiar scowl. But this time she was wrapped up in her pink cashmere scarf, silky blonde locks spilling over her face and her neck, and the steam drifting out of her coffee cup gripped in both hands against her cute pink nose is enough to get Bea as choked up as she gets on late night youtube binges of people opening presents with kittens in them.
“Well, Farmsville? I know you’re obsessed with me, but God, just take a picture or something if you’re just going to stare like a slack-jawed yokel. Its cold out here.” Poppy drawls, still eyeing Bea over the rim of her coffee. For all her seemingly callous words, Bea could see she was curious. She still had her attention.
“Come home with me.” Bea blurts. And pauses, her mind screeching to a halt. What did you just say? Where was all that suaveness and smoothness you’d planned? It says, and Bea wants to smack herself against the face as she watches Poppy smirk and raise an eyebrow. Here it comes , she thinks.
“Home? And just where is that these days, Miss High and Mighty?” Poppy raises a finger, tapping her chin as she eyes Bea up like a lioness examining a particularly plump gazelle. “I know your hog-wrangling family didn’t have the funds to send your ass to Belvoire without help. So how are you finding it here in the city? Got a nice cardboard box with your name on it?”
Bea rolls her eyes, finishing her now very cold coffee and throwing the cup into a nearby bin before replying. Of course Poppy couldn’t resist a dig, but that’s why she loved her, after all.
“Why don’t you come and find out, Pops? Or are you too scared to leave your trust-fund tinted mansion now that we’re out in the real world?” Bea raises an eyebrow in challenge, stepping closer to Poppy. She couldn’t help but feel a little bit smug at the way Poppy had to look up just to scowl at her.
“And just why the hell should I go anywhere with you?” Poppy hisses, shoving a sharp nail into Bea’s chest as she pokes her roughly, enunciating each word with a well-manicured stab to the heart. “You’re forgetting yourself, you deluded farmhand. We aren’t at school anymore. I don’t have to put up with your harebrained bullshit. I don’t have to go anywhere with the likes of you .”
Bea reaches up, catching Poppy’s finger in her hand and yanking her closer, looking down into her eyes as she totters on her heels.
“You didn't have to kiss me back either, but I don't hear you complaining about that." Bea starts, quickly lifting a finger to interrupt the sharp reply on the tip of Poppy's tongue. "You don't have to go anywhere with me.. but I know you want to, Poppy. Look me in the eyes and tell me your life has not been goddamn boring as hell without me in it.” Bea pauses, then decides to add the last part. The vulnerable part that she’s not so sure of showing, but damn it, the caffeine’s got her feeling bold. “Because I know mine has been. And.. I want you back in it.”
Savvy New Yorkers walking by part like the Red Sea around them on the busy street, knowing better than to make eye contact with the two crazy ladies that were staring at eachother like they were either about to kiss or throw down or both. Bea glances down to where she realises their hands are still linked, and she realises because Poppy is squeezing hard enough to move her knuckles like marbles.
“Uh- Poppy?”
Poppy seems to snap out of her trance, looking down and realising her grip. She yanks her hand away as if burned, but moves no further.
“...Fine. I suppose I can consider it charity, seeing how the bottom-feeders live." Poppy hums, and Bea can't help but let out a snort. "If it's far you better have at least enough for a taxi, Farmsville. Because I am not snapping a Louboutin for you.” She sneers, huffily throwing her hair over her shoulder and stalking off down the sidewalk without bothering to wait for Bea’s reply.
Bea grins madly to herself and turns, deciding to keep a few leisurely paces behind to admire that fine behind of Poppy’s before she lets it slip that she’s walking in the wrong direction.