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There was a palpable sense of ‘Squidmas Cheer’ in the Houzuki-Pygmy mansion on this particular morning. A rare occurrence within the past decade, as its sole child had grown and moved on to more adult things, like taxpaying and working nine-to-five.
The kitchen bustled with people coming and going, through the living room and the long hallways. The entire east wing smelled like cinnamon, pie, and all of that standard Squidmas shit.
Pearl could only sit back in her chunky recliner. She was still in awe that people were in her house, celebrating Squidmas with her. It’d been years since anyone but her parents or Marina had done that, and even then they hardly could make it home for the holidays. This year was no different. At least they could call, she supposed.
Marina flitted into the living room on light feet, effectively breaking Pearl’s reverie, still decked in her oversized hideous sweater and fuzzy socks, and sporting Pearl’s favourite ‘Kiss the cook (and more) ’ apron that she’d stolen off her. Pearl snickered quietly.
“Come on, Pearlie, come help me with these cookies.” She patted her hand as she passed, a familiar gesture. Pearl grinned and wriggled out of the leather chair to eagerly trail on Marina’s heels.
Marie was the only other person in the kitchen, muscling a spatula with all the grace of a barbarian at dinnertime. “Get your hands out of my pie batter, Four, or so help me Cod. ” Marie seethed with a playful bat to the shorter inkling’s roaming hands. Four whined and sulked away, probably to seek consolation in the other Cuttlefish cousin. Pearl shot her a thumbs-up and a ‘nice try’ as they passed each other, and Four only gave her a mopey look.
She rolled her eyes, “The snacks’re in that cupboard, Four. Go wild.” Pearl gestured at one of the tall cabinets and Four’s eyes lit up. She snickered at the ravenous way Four ripped the door open.
“Whatcha makin’ anyway, granny?” Pearl asked as Marina slid her tray onto the counter. Marie levelled her with a flat stare.
“Food. What do you want, shorty?” She grumbled.
“Aww, c’mon. Is that pumpkin pie? I love that shit. Tastes great with mayo, by the way. You should try it sometime.” She bent against the counter with a sly grin. Marie didn’t budge. Not even a chuckle, or a gag. Tough crowd.
A playful whap of a rolled-up towel to Pearl’s backside had her jumping straight back up, whipping around to look at Marina with a furiously red face.
Marina was grinning, winding up the towel again with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Grab me the flour, Pearl.” She lurched to flick her again and Pearl skittered away with a fearful laugh.
“You are ridiculously whipped.” Marie muttered. Pearl acted like she didn’t hear her.
Marina started cutting the dough sheet with the steel shapes, her tongue poking out of her stupid grin in concentration. Pearl’s hearts could’ve all melted out of her body. She was undeniably, disgustingly, cheesily in love with Marina Ida. Pearl leaned against the bench with a dopey smile.
“What are you looking at, Pearl? Is there something on my face?” Marina cocked her head curiously, noticing her staring. Pearl laughed, pushing off the countertop and stood up on her tippy toes to press a kiss to Marina’s flour-dusted cheek.
“Maybe there might be. Maybe I’m just admirin’ my future wife, s’all.” She said simply, wandering off to the giant fridge to dig herself out some eggnog, drinking it straight from the carton. Marie let out a revolted noise.
A flustered whine trilled out of the back of her throat and she let her head drop, hiding her lovestruck grin from view. She pawed at her cheeks for good measure, making sure Pearl wasn’t just messing with her. Of course. There was flour on her cheek.
Pearl brought her arms to wrap around Marina’s midsection, linking her fingers together in front of her navel. She nuzzled into the back of her neck, drinking in the scent of her favourite perfume. Marina let a tentacle fwop over the back of Pearl’s shoulders, curling upward to intertwine between her shorter cream ones. Pearl hummed a short laugh, her iridophores joyfully glittering in teal.
Someone gagged, “Gross. Get a room, you freaks.” Marie deadpanned from across the kitchen with an aggressive slap of her rubber spatula on the cake pan. Pearl stuck her tongue out and Marina choked on her own spit, fumbling the cookie cutter.
“This is my house, I get to kiss my girl if I wanna. You’re just mad ‘cuz you get none, so don’t-hate just ‘cuz you’re celib-ate!” She crowed, “Up top, Mar!” Pearl held her palm out and Marina patted it with an exasperated sigh.
Marie actually chuckled, quietly to herself. Little victories. She returned to… whatever she was doing with that batter. Butchering it, probably. Marie was a demon with that whisk.
Marina groaned, “Those rhymes were terrible, Pearl, and you know it. No proper rhyme or meter to them. I think I’m getting flashbacks to your solo career.” She muttered.
Pearl shrugged, “Ay, I had t’start somewhere. Humble beginnings, dig? Ain't anybody ever told you that the greatest artists don’t always strike gold? ”
Marina snorted, “Yeah, like you’ve ever. Do you even remember Castlemania? Nasty Majesty, before we got together?” She teased. Pearl’s exaggeratedly offended gasp made her snicker.
“Wow. WOW. That was one time. I didn’t know you hated Nasty Majesty that much, ‘Rina. Have you just been lying to me this whole time?” With a pat on Pearl’s intertwined hands, Marina finished shaping her cookies, and she wriggled out of Pearl’s arms to slide them into the oven.
“Pearlie, you have to admit. Pre-Off The Hook Nasty Majesty was a musical atrocity.” Marina laughed.
Pearl conceded with another shrug. Marina did have a point, she supposed. Marina wasn’t one to write the lyrics, that was Pearl’s job, but the first time she showed Marina Nasty Majesty (Castlemania Ver.), her reaction was almost immediate. She made her rewrite the entire thing. Which was very much like her, the perfectionist.
Once Marina was satisfied with her work, and she’d washed the flour and dough chunks from her hands, she returned to Pearl. Pearl leaned boredly against the entryway and a green and red flash caught Marina’s eye. She laughed to herself and skipped over to kiss her pouty forehead. Pearl grumbled.
“Look up, Pearlie. Mistletoe.” Marina whispered into her temple. Pearl looked and, indeed, someone (Callie) had sneakily strung up a sprig of mistletoe on the kitchen entryway. Pearl grunted and pushed her forehead into her apron. Marina’s chest rumbled with amusement.
“Aww, c’mon, you’re not gonna give me a kiss? Not even a little one?” She moped. Pearl made another incomprehensible noise, “How will I ever live on without a little kissie from my Pearlie, Huh? For shame, Pearl. For shame. Neglecting your girlfriend on Squidmas Day.” Marina chided playfully.
Pearl groaned, “Ugh, fine!”
She suddenly pulled on Marina’s top until they were eye-level and planted her lips on hers sloppily. It was only light and sweet, something playful and loving. They had some shame at least, and they weren’t about to kiss like nobody was watching, let alone not in the same kitchen as them.
Marie made an exaggerated gagging sound. Pearl flipped her off from behind Marina, her other hand remaining on Marina’s neck. Marina giggled into her lips and dipped her down slightly, forcing Pearl’s weight into her palm.
Pearl thought it ended far too soon, as all good things do. Quietly, Marina felt the same.
Marina looked at her like she’d hung the sun in the sky, with so much love and utter infatuation it spilled out of her three hearts and right onto the kitchen floor. Pearl stared back like Marina strung up the stars and hand-crafted the constellations, with the moon as her muse. Pearl laughed, short and quiet. Marina spoke first as she turned away.
“Blegh. Your breath stinks, Pearl. You know I hate eggnog.” She whispered and crouched down to check on her cookies. Pearl made an offended noise. Their progress looked satisfactory and she stood again, dusting off her apron and letting the flour fall to the floor.
“Presents! Everyone in the living room, STAT! That includes you, Marie, no, don’t groan at me! It’s Squidmas!” Callie hollered excitedly, dancing about the living room. Pearl scowled and Marina laughed at her pettiness, pressing a chaste peck to her cheek and padding into the living room. She untied the apron and flicked it behind her onto the counter.
“C’mon, Pearlie. I wanna know what I got for Secret Sandta.” She called over her shoulder and Pearl trotted in behind her, sticking a finger in Marie’s batter on the way out. She expertly dodged the right hook aiming for the back of her head with a cackle.
Pearl plunked down in her fat chunky recliner with a huff and pushed herself up into the back, leaning on one of the arms. Marina looked a little lost by herself. She scanned the room from beside Pearl, watching Callie drag a begrudging Marie by the arm, before her eyes skipped back to watch Four excitedly explain something to a kind of lost-looking Eight. Her expression eased, and by Cod did Pearl want to kiss every crease and wrinkle beside Marina’s eyes.
Pearl tugged a fistful of Marina’s sweater impatiently, “C’mon, siddown. You just gonna gawk all day, scarecrow?”
Marina plucked her hand off her sweater, cradling it in her own instead, “Sit where, Pearlie?” She asked with a raised brow. Pearl rolled her eyes like it was the most obvious thing ever.
“Uh, here. Obviously.” She patted her lap with an overly-sweet Pearl-brand smile, “I’m like father Squidmas all up in this bitch. Tell me what you want this year, girl!”
Marina huffed, “You are ridiculous, Houzuki.” She groaned, but she didn’t miss a beat in flopping down onto her lap. She shuffled and wriggled until she was sitting sideways, head resting on Pearl’s shoulder and hands playing with Pearl’s matching jumper.
Callie clapped her hands together excitedly, gathering the room’s attention, “Now, who wants to go first?!” She asked.
Marie piped up, rising from the couch and shuffling toward the pile, “Let’s get this over with. Marina, heads up.” She said with her usual rumble, and she tossed a brown-paper box toward Marina. She scrambled to catch it right before it hit Pearl square in the face, which felt very deliberate on Marie’s part.
“Cod, take my eye out next time, won’t you?” Pearl hissed, and Marina flicked her.
She gently unwrapped the box, and Marina gasped as she saw what it was. She looked back at Marie with wide eyes.
“These are-! The newest model of my favourite headset! I’ve been looking at these for a while, how’d you know?” She asked. Marie shrugged with a slight grin.
“Lucky guess.” She lied. Pearl cleared her throat discreetly.
Marina slid the plastic casing from the cardboard box and ran her fingers over the leather thoughtfully. The absolutely fascinated smile on her face made Pearl giggle, and she poked her side.
“Try ‘em on, girl. See if they fit like your old ones.” She said with a lopsided smile.
She cringed at the snap of the plastic as she pulled them from their encasement, turning them over in her hands and examining them. Based just on the look on her face, Pearl knew for a fact she was taking it apart mentally, piece by piece until she knew how it all clicked together in its synthetic synergy.
Marina slipped them over her ears with a rapidly widening smile. She shifted them around for a moment with her hands, wiggling her tentacles and ears until she was satisfied. Marina pulled them off with a sparkle in her eye.
“They’re perfect! They fit so well.” Marina let them hang around her neck, “I’ll never throw out my original pair, but I’ll certainly be using these from now on.”
“Yeah, how long have you had those now? They’re practically ancient. I don’t know why you haven't trashed 'em yet.” Pearl asked.
“You bought them for me when we first met. You said they were a ‘ band-warming gift ’, you goof. Of course I’d never get rid of them! They're too sentimental!” She giggled, flicking Pearl in the nose. There was another quiet retch from Marie’s side of the room.
“It’s my turn now~!” Callie chimed in suddenly, holding a box over her head with glee. She skipped over to Pearl’s side and deposited the box on her- er, Marina’s lap, and sat back down. Pearl didn’t hesitate to rip the paper away like an animal, throwing it this way and that until the present was freed.
“Heard you wanted a pair of these! From that interview you did with InkopoLife Magazine! You still don’t have a pair of those, right? I totes don’t wanna return them now… Or I guess I could keep them?” Callie whined to herself. Pearl accepted the black sneaks gingerly, relishing in the new-shoe smell.
“Naw, I don’t! How did you even remember that, anyway? It was like, five months ago!” She ran her fingers over the fresh rubber soles with delight. Hell, she even sniffed the inside for that pristine fresh-kick smell. Marina still thought she was a freak for doing that, but she didn't comment.
“ Well, a little birdie told me-” Callie was interrupted by a balled-up wad of wrapping paper hitting her square between the eyes. Pearl followed its trajectory to see Marina’s deeply teal-flushed face, her chest heaving as she retracted her arm.
Callie chuckled, a little nervously, “Nah, I’m just playin’. I always keep up with the latest and greatest! Of course I’d remember that.” She covered smoothly.
Marina cleared her throat, “ Anyway. This one is for you, Eight.” Marina hefted her gift from the floor with a smile, gently handing it to the octoling in the chair beside them.
Eight unwrapped her present with careful precision, slicing the tape with her thumb and letting the single sheet of paper fall away. It revealed an unassuming box, and when she opened it, Eight went impossibly quieter. Her pinkish tentacles went deathly still at the sight of her gift.
“I, um, figured you would need one. My laptop was a lifesaver when I came to the surface, so I got you one! It saves Three from having to share theirs, too.” She explained shyly, fiddling with the end of a tentacle. Eight listened intently and nodded
Marina clapped her hands together excitedly, “Oh! And I encoded an Octarian keyboard setting into it as well! It’s good that you’re learning Inklish, but I thought it might be helpful to have it set in a language you’re fluent in first.”
And, wow, way to remind everyone how much of a genius Marina Ida is. Hand-crafting an entire language setting onto a brand-new computer? Pearl couldn’t be more in love if she tried.
Eight looked… astounded. Close to tears, in fact. She ran her fingers over the slim silver length of it, its surface bare beyond a single sticker that Marina stuck on. An Off The Hook sticker, because of course she would.
She scrubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and muttered something in Octarian that Pearl hadn’t quite learnt yet. Marina replied in a soft tone, clutching her hands together with wide, teary eyes.
Pearl knew it wasn’t her place to interject. Instead, she squeezed Marina’s hip in a silent reminder that she was here. For Marina. Not a reassurance, just a reminder. Marina’s past was… a lot for her to talk about. Pearl never pushed, she let Marina come out of her shell at her own pace, and she always listened. For that, Marina was eternally grateful.
When they had first met Eight, the whole ordeal was a lot to unpack for her. Eight unknowingly brought up a lot of things Marina had long since moved on from and thought she’d put behind her, and it stung. For both of them. It didn’t bother Pearl, of course not, she loved Marina to death and she’d be there for her no matter what. But to say it wasn’t a bit of a setback would be lying.
Marina leaned over the recliner arm as Eight booted it up, murmuring quiet pointers in Octarian while she set it up. Three chimed in with their own occasional tip from the couch Eight and Four sat at, and soon enough it was working as intended. Marina let her figure it out from there with the occasional input from Three and Four.
Pearl decided that it was her turn now, in the conversational lull. She reached over the side of the chair for two large boxes, rapping her hands on them rhythmically with a huge smile.
“‘Boutta blow your mind, Four. Come get ‘em.” She shook the boxes and Four shot up from beside Eight, bounding over excitedly. She took them graciously and sat back down, not wasting a second to tear open the wrapping. Pearl smiled widely.
It took Four a good moment or two to figure out just what she was looking at. Two glinting, golden and sleek shooters laid innocently encased in pink packing pellets. Four looked up to Pearl in silent disbelief, her eyes shining.
Pearl gestured toward her, “Well. Go on.” She barked good-naturedly.
Four nodded dumbly and gingerly lifted the objects out of the box, holding them like they might break at any second. She twirled them on her fingers slowly, familiarly.
“Now, I know you’re more of a shooter gal, but Marie tells me you’ve got a mean streak with the dualies. As you should! They’re clearly the superior weapon class.” She puffed her chest out proudly. Marie groaned exasperatedly to herself, but there was no vitriol in it.
Four shook her head in disbelief, “Pearl…”
“Next box! C’mon open the other one, I wanna see!” Callie interjected, poking the larger box impatiently. Four set the dualies down gently.
She dug through the packing pellets again until her hands hit something cool and textured. Four dug it out with wide eyes.
Marina smacked Pearl’s shoulder with the back of her hand, “Pearlie! You shouldn’t have!” She whispered. Pearl’s grin grew twice as large.
“Ay, brella is like, the second best class. Can’t leave it out, can I? We’re a team!” She whispered back. Marina shot her a look. Four twirled the umbrella in her hands, apologising profusely when Eight had to duck out of the way of its spines.
“They’re both custom-made, courtesy of the Houzuki family brand.” Pearl piped up. Four’s brow furrowed minutely.
“But… these are Enperry Dualies? And- wow, I didn’t know Enperry did a collab with Sorella…” Four said, a little lost. Pearl shrugged like it was obvious.
“Like I said. The family brand. And they didn't, officially.” She said, so casually you’d think she was talking about the weather, “Those are our fave weapons, so get good with ‘em and we’ll see who’s better!” She crowed. Four nodded vigorously.
“I don’t normally go for brellas, but I’ll use it! Only because it’s a present. And it’s gold. ” Four admired the shine on the handle once more. Pearl laughed.
The rest of the gifts went around with much fanfare from there. Marie ripped open a box so aggressively you’d think it offended her, lifting out a scoped E-Liter with a maniacal grin. Three said it’d be good for her to branch out into scopes, and try and see if it sticks like regular chargers do. To Pearl, that meant she needed to replace the locks on her house. And maybe widen her security personnel. Perhaps she should move countries just to be sure.
Callie practically squealed at the gorgeous floor-length satin dress she unboxed, bounding over to Eight to squash her into a hug. Eight wasn’t really sure what to do, but graciously and awkwardly returned it. Callie couldn’t stop marvelling at the pretty hot-pink colour, the frills and the pearls.
Four struggled to hold back her laughter as she handed her ( rather poorly ) wrapped gift to Three, who unwrapped it slowly and curiously. Pearl had to bite her knuckle to stop her snickering when all the paper fell away. It was a near-perfect replica of Cap’n Cuttlefish’s beat-up old sailor’s hat, down to the busted seams and patchwork repairs.
What surprised the group the most was when Three looked like they were about to cry, gingerly setting the cap atop their head and tilting it down to hide their eyes. They roped Four into a side-hug-noogie combo, muttering something into her ear that made her gasp and ‘awww!’ .
And that was that, for the secret Sandta.
With all the excitement and ecstatic energy, Pearl could feel herself growing a bit tired. She waited until everyone was suitably distracted, and slipped out onto the patio under the guise of getting a drink.
The early-morning air was chilly and crisp in her lungs as she took a deep breath, sending sharp fractalized cold down her throat. It was nice.
The patio door slid open with a rumble, and someone stepped out, “So this is where you got off to, hm?”
Pearl chuckled quietly, “You caught me.”
Marina only hummed in amusement, sliding the door shut again with her slipper-clad foot.
Pearl continued, "Y’know, I think I’ve turned into my old man. He loves to stand out here and ponder his thoughts, and all that shit.” She said wistfully, watching the foggy treeline with a distant look.
Marina’s laugh brought her to turn back to her, standing with her hand on her hip and her long tentacles drawn up into a ponytail. Marina took her hand as she approached, leaning down slightly to leave a peck on her forehead.
“You’re funny, Pearlie. Never change.” She hummed.
The little box in Pearl’s pocket had never felt heavier. Like a dropped anchor, and she was the only one pulling it up onto the ship.
Pearl slipped a hand inside her track pants pocket, running her thumb over the smooth leather self-soothingly. “I, uh, got you another prezzie, Marina.” She started, gathering Marina’s attention. She wiggled out of Marina’s hold to collect herself, smoothing her sweater down nervously. Pearl didn’t know why she was anxious, and it bothered her. It’s not like Marina would hate it, or her. But nevertheless, trepidation was starting to swallow her whole. She needed to do something before she cowed out of it.
“I- Hm.” Pearl swallowed, unsure of herself, “I’ll just show you.” She skipped the sappy lovey-dovey speech and pressed the box into Marina’s hands quickly and looked away bashfully. Her throat was growing tighter by the second and sweat was pooling in her clenched hands.
Marina’s deft fingers popped the lid of the white box open. She stared at the red velvet for a long moment, analytical and observant, and Pearl could practically hear the cogs inside her head turning.
“Pearl… What are these…?” Marina asked, her voice hardly above a whisper.
Pearl rubbed the back of her neck, “Well! They’re rings! But- uh, I kinda- I wanted them to be… promise rings. As corny and silly as that is…” She trailed off, suddenly finding her slippers to be the most enrapturing sight in the world.
When Marina didn’t reply, Pearl snuck a glance upward, just to see what face she was making. Her hearts froze solid.
“Hey- Hey now, what’re you cryin’ for? That’s my job,” Pearl worried, “I can take ‘em back, I still got the receipt. You don’t have to cry, Marina.” She croaked, cupping her cheek and brushing away a stray tear. Marina shook her head, but she couldn’t reply. The hot lump firmly lodged within her throat constricted until all she could do was gasp and sniffle.
Marina plucked the two bands out of the velvet shakily. She ran her thumbs over them and held the gold one out to Pearl.
“Is this one yours?” She asked her hoarsely. Pearl nodded. Marina took her left hand gingerly, looking into her eyes in a silent question.
It was so delicate how she handled it. Like she could drop it and lose it forever, or it’d crumble to ash if she squeezed it just too hard. The ring was cold around her finger. Marina said nothing, or rather, couldn’t say anything. She just stared. Pearl wore layers of jewellery on her hands, but this felt different. Raw. Meaningful.
Marina idly wondered if this was the reason, then, that Pearl kept her ring fingers bare. That she was waiting for a day like this. Just how long had Pearl been thinking about it? The thought alone made her ache like a lovesick fool.
Pearl slipped the other silver band out of her teal fingertips before she could put it on by herself, cradling it in her palm for a short second. Feeling the weight of it, turning it over between her fingers. Admiring it like she’d never seen it before.
Marina tilted her head curiously. Pearl flipped Marina’s hand over palm-down in her own wordlessly. She didn’t quite trust her voice to hold up just yet. Pearl wanted to say a thousand things, how beautiful she looked in the morning sun, how much she adored her, but the words wouldn’t come.
The silver ring sat snugly around Marina’s ring finger as Pearl slid it on slowly, fitting exactly how Pearl thought it would. How she knew it would.
A strong, unplaceable emotion bubbled in Pearl’s chest the longer she stared at the silver band, the matching half to her gold ring. Her matching half. She choked back a sob, and Marina looked to be close to tears. Pearl took a shaky breath in and swallowed.
“I love you, Marina,” She croaked, finally, “‘N I’m not great with my words, you know that, but I can sure as hell try, right?” She chuckled wetly. Pearl rubbed the fresh tears away aggressively with the back of her hand.
Marina thumbed over the gold decorating her left hand as she talked. “I love you. More than anything, more than Off The Hook, more than Santa Maria, or mayonnaise. I love your smile,” She cupped Marina’s cheek, “The way you laugh, really laugh, even if you think it's ugly. I love how your hair wiggles and curls when you’re happy, or excited. Hell, they’re even doin’ it right now.” Pearl ran a knuckle over her shortest tentacle affectionately.
Marina was suddenly extremely conscious of every twitch and movement of her tentacles, utterly at a loss of what to say.
“I love making music with you, Marina. I love performing with you, and watching you dance.” Pearl laughed to herself a little bit, and Marina squeezed the fingers resting on her cheek, “And I think- No, I know I wanna spend the rest of my life with you. Without a damn doubt in the world. I’d do everything all over again if I had to. So…” She paused, “I just… wanted to show you. Something- anything material enough to get you to understand me better than words could say. A promise that I’ll be here, right next to you for as long as I live.” Pearl’s voice started to break toward the end of her sentence, thick and heavy with emotion.
Marina couldn’t help the tears anymore. They flowed freely down her cheeks, onto Pearl’s fingers, and her shoulders shook with barely-restrained sobs. Marina took Pearl’s hands between her shaking own and pressed their foreheads together.
“I think I’m the luckiest damn girl in the world.” Marina said quietly, clearing her throat, “I could’ve met anybody else on that mountain. But it was you. At the very least, I like to think it was always meant to be you.” She whispered, “You, and your ridiculously tight jeans and smeared eyeliner. And your voice that I so adore.” She giggled, brushing a thumb over Pearl’s cheek affectionately.
“So of course. I’ll always be here beside you, at every step. I love what we’ve built. Off The Hook is everything to me. You’re everything to me, and I never want to do anything without you.” She breathed into the space between them, “My life.” A kiss between her brow, “My love.” Her mole, “My Pearl .” Marina’s voice cracked again, and she pressed her lips to Pearl’s softly.
And that was the breaking point. Relieved shudders wracked Pearl’s body and she practically crushed herself into Marina’s embrace, holding onto the back of her sweater so tightly. Marina soothed her through it, through her own tears. Whispered words and comforts were spoken but they weren’t important.
Pearl rested her head in the crook of Marina’s shoulder as her tears abated, hands resting on the small of her sweater like they always did. Marina continued to idly run her fingers up and down Pearl’s back. She’d learnt that trick from their early days, when everything grew all too much for Pearl to bear, and she’d crawl into Marina’s arms for respite.
From there they lapsed into a comfortable silence. Diegetic background noise filled the void, the faintly muffled Squidmas music, the sounds of the trees rustling in the breeze, and maybe the occasional sniffle or sigh.
The song changed suddenly. Another corny Squidmas love song, cheesier than the last. Marina’s hips started to sway lightly, and the hands linked on her lower back brought Pearl to follow. She hummed into Marina’s shoulder, cracking open an eye curiously.
“I love this song.” Marina murmured.
Pearl huffed through her nose, “S’ funny, ‘cuz I fuckin’ hate it. Damn song always plays in the supermarket.” She yawned but didn’t protest.
Marina playfully smacked her hip, “Oh, boohoo! Have a little Squidmas spirit, Pearl.”
Pearl guffawed, “I gots plenty of spirit. Just not for Mackerel Carey. At-” She checked her watch, liking the way it matched her ring, “-Nine in the morning. On Squidmas day.” Marina giggled.
“Happy Octivus, Marina.” Pearl murmured, nuzzling further into her touch.
Marina kissed the crown of her mantle, and Pearl could feel the smile in it, “Happy Squidmas, Pearlie.”
-
(Callie pocketed her phone and wiped away a silent tear, sending a prayer to the sky. Cod bless their souls, the sappiest sapphics that ever lived.)