Chapter Text
Mulan sits on the steps outside the theater. She tried to swallow her disappointment. She tried to act like tonight wouldn't be just like all the others but it’s impossible to keep lying to herself. She’s already done enough of that to last a lifetime.
And Aurora always does this.
She doesn’t mean to. She would never intentionally hurt anyone. There are just certain things she never seems to face consequences for. Certain slips Mulan lets slide. Even when she ends up feeling neglected.
Farewell, My Concubine is showing at the local theater. It is Mulan’s favourite movie. She can't begin to tell Aurora what it means to her. How the exploration of gender performance amidst the backdrop of this traditional Chinese opera resonates so deeply. To say nothing of its themes of loyalty and faithfulness-- qualities Mulan has always found very important. She was actually hoping to speak to that tonight and make some connection with how Aurora's chronic lateness has begun to feel disrespectful. If Aurora is going to be late, as she usually is, she might not get the chance.
It is 20 minutes after the movie was scheduled to start. Mulan stares at her shoes. They aren't her usual running shoes. They’re fancy. Not heels but still, an elegant alternative to what Mulan feels most comfortable in. She had put in effort tonight. The fancy shoes, a dark purple suit, hair loose and not up in her standard messy bun. She got all dressed up and for what?
"I'm here!" an all-too-familiar voice chimes from further down the block. Aurora pants heavily as she waves. "I'm sorry! I know; I'm late. I know. I'm so, so sorry."
Mulan folds her arms. She means to give a scolding look, but that becomes impossible as she glances at Aurora. It isn't fair. She is stunning and well worth the wait. It's infuriating. She can't keep getting away with this. Yet, she always does.
Aurora is painfully gorgeous. She’s the kind of girl Mulan often found herself morbidly fixating on in her youth. She could never tell if it was resentment because she hated the attention perfect princess girly girls like Aurora received, or if it was a genuine clash with their personality types.
The question plagued her whenever she was thrown together with her more feminine peers, but after spending time with Aurora, she realized how wrong she had gotten it. Girly girls were not her enemy. Oftentimes, they proved to be her only ally. And Aurora has become her closest friend. More than friends. Yet, through everything, Mulan knows she can never trust the woman to be on time.
"The movie probably started already," Mulan grumbles. She hopes that she’s wrong-- that there are previews to cushion the blow of Aurora's tardiness-- but it seems unlikely that they would drag on for this long.
Aurora frowns. She has obviously put great care into her appearance. Her lilac cocktail dress is one of her most flattering. The silver earrings with the amethyst hearts were a birthday present from Mulan. Her lipstick is a perfect barely-there shade of pink, and if Mulan knows anything about Aurora’s makeup rituals, she knows it took three or four applications for her to feel like she had gotten it right.
It is a carefully planned date night look. Mulan appreciates the thought. The execution isn’t too bad, either. She looks Aurora over. The silver heels that complete her outfit stand out. Mulan can't imagine anyone being on time walking in those.
"I set five alarms, I promise," Aurora whines. "I don't understand how I still overslept."
Mulan shrugs. She forces a smile, clearly masking annoyance. There’s no time to get into it. She moves quickly. As soon as she stands up, she dusts herself off and turns towards the entrance without greeting Aurora with a kiss.
"You're mad," Aurora says, concerned.
"We're late."
"But you're mad at me."
It’s not a pout exactly, but there is a certain wide-eyed worried look that comes over Aurora’s face. And a tone in her voice that matches it. Some elements of fear. A sense that she’s broken something that can’t be fixed.
Mulan grimaces. Processing and communicating her feelings is a struggle for her under the best conditions. Tonight, on the steps of the movie theater 20 minutes after they agreed to meet up, is far from the best condition. She tries to collect her thoughts without delaying them further.
"I am– but you're here now. And you look beautiful." She speaks as calmly as she knows how. "I need time to sit with being mad, so I'd rather we go in now and talk about it after."
Aurora nods. Instinctively, they take each other’s hands, interlocking their fingers. Mulan smiles. Not another forced one; a small acknowledgment that they have reached an understanding. A peace offering… for now.