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It's 3am at Sparkling Cookie's tavern. Only a few people are still there at such a late hour: some drowning their sorrows with booze, some having lost the track of time while having a good time with their friends, and some passed out at the counter after uncountable rounds of wine. Amid people like this, a lady all by herself is also sitting at the counter, having a friendly chatter with the bartender.
"I feel like I'm really gonna fumble it now, Sparkling." Cheesecake Cookie laments, taking a sip of her margarita. "Like I know I invited her, right? But what if she just accepted to not make me feel bad? Or because SHE felt bad? Like, I think she might still not like me, and what I wanna do tonight might not work if she doesn’t like me..” She takes another sip, before starting to fidget with one of her blonde and fluffy pigtails.
"Huh. You think that?” The barman cleans and cleans glasses and mugs as he listens to his friend’s nonsensical worries. This is the third week in a row she talks to him about Butter Pretzel Cookie. “Didn't you tell me you kissed and spent a whole night together? I don’t think the one and only Butter Pretzel would be the kind to backtrack after something like that."
The girl's face immediately turned red. "Well yes but... I really fear I may scare her away now, or that I may be too brash!" More sips of her glass. Yes, Cheesecake managed to get passionate, romantic, extremely physical with the woman of her dreams. They spent all night in her sofa, they kissed to their heart’s content, and God knows what else they did after that... but she still, for some reason, was feeling nervous over their exact relationship. It surely wasn’t caused by previous experiences or distrust of her, but the mere thought of not being enough for her beloved artist was eating her alive.
“You’ll be fine. Just make sure to be yourself during the party, and she’ll never even think of leaving you alone. She will be head over heels for you!” As a longtime friend of hers, Sparkling was always one of the first people to know about the lady’s problems. Venting out her issues to him usually made her think better, and he always had good advice. “By the way, I’m about to close. You should go already and prepare your stuff for tomorrow.” He difficultly lifted the guy passed out on the counter over his shoulder and proceeded to take him outside, while Cheesecake Cookie left the tavern and prepared to drive home.
- - - - - - - - - -
It was finally time. Her adored Cheesecake had personally invited her to one of her famous parties, with the intent of presenting all her portraits of her to all her aristocrat friends. Yes, invited her, as her personal super special guest, as the painter of the newest masterpiece.
As her partner.
She was wearing a dapper, classy outfit designed exclusively for her at Choc’au Latte- crimson pants and vest, along with an ivory white shirt and a mustard-colored tie, plus a crimson masquerade she decided on after a suggestion from Cheesecake herself and her casual everyday shoes (she hasn’t bought new ones). As she walks her way toward the huge, flashy Cheesecake manor, thoughts flood her brain. “(Sh-she surely meant as a partner for the party… Yes. There’s no way you two would be getting into stuff so suddenly, Butter Pretzel. You already let out how you feel about her and that’s alright. If she wants anything to happen after that night she will probably tell you herself, if not, that’s also fine. You did rush things a bit, and she most likely just played along... yeah)”.
Her ridiculous brain rambles are stopped abruptly when she is finally at the gates of the manor. There’s a long queue of people, all obviously rich and wearing flashy, oversized clothes, waiting for the bouncer at the entrance to check if they’re on the list or not. The queue, however, is not advancing at all- whoever was hired as a bouncer for the night is incredibly slow and bad at looking up names and takes about 20 minutes per person. A harsh “Shit” resonates inside of her brain as she positions herself behind the last soul of the queue, after which the man on charge of the list runs at her at an inhuman speed. “Miss Butter Pretzel! Miss Cheesecake said you were her star guest, you can just enter straight up.”
Butter Pretzel miserably sits down asides Cheesecake in the living room, leaning over with her head in her hands, while literally everyone else was just focusing on having a good time. She hadn’t even entered the party and she had already looked like an idiot to everyone (in her head), and she was never going to be able to face any high-society person ever again (in her head). Cheesecake, wearing her elegant and ridiculously decorated black dress, tenderly rubs her darling’s back up to down with her hand, doing her best to help calm her down. “Please Pretzie… I prommy you’re completely fine! I never told you about the list thing!”
“I should’ve assumed so anyways! It’s a party for MY paintings!” The woman says with her voice all muffled by her hands. She straightens up on her chair and moves her hands to her knees. “I’m very sorry...”
Her patron gives her a tight hug and pats her head. “Stop being sorry, dummy. You’re gonna make me feel bad!” she says to the painter, to which she notably reacts by blushing and looking directly at Cheesecake. “Yes! You will. Forget about that and focus on the unveiling of your beautiful works.”
Pretzel would rather die than have her muse feel bad over her petty whining, and her heart sank when she heard that could happen. The tantrum stopped near immediately, and her brain could again only think about the girl at her side. She stood up and lovingly extended her hand to the other woman to help her stand up too, visibly flustered. “You’re right… We should get ready.”
The wealthy girl’s heart starts to beat insanely hard after Butter Pretzel’s gesture. “W-we should! Yes yes yes! That’s the spirit!” Cheesecake kindly accepts her help, letting her delicate and soft hand join her crush’s hardworking and weary hand, and stands up not letting go of it. “Let’s go now…~” This was the opportunity she had been waiting for since giving her the invitation.
Not ever stopping their handholding, both women walk to the zone dedicated to Pretzel’s paintings, making their way through all the people present. The patron can’t help but make little chat with some of the guests, trying to act as natural as she could. “It seems everything is going as planned!!!” states Birthday Cake Cookie during a quick encounter, seeing both girls together. Cheesecake merely winks at her and makes a hand gesture, as if saying “Oh you!”
There they are, the butter masterpieces all perched on the wall. Cheesecake, however, doesn’t stop at the gallery, much to the artist’s confusion. She takes the lead and starts walking past the main attraction, taking Butter Pretzel with her and not letting her question anything. The rich woman stares at her, showing her a flirtatious smile and giving her hand a tight grip, all while quietly taking her upstairs away from all the people and their commotion. They walk through an extensive hallway and stop at a flashy, highly ornamented door- Cheesecake’s room. “I need you to help me with something first though, Pretzie...~” The artist already understood what’s going to happen, and she feels like her heart is about to explode.
In just a second both women are inside the room. In just a second Cheesecake is pushed against a wall by both of Butter Pretzel arms, as the latter stares at her with a worried face, almost like she is trying to apologize with her eyes for such an obscene gesture. Her body had acted by itself, without a single thought. “I-I I Uh, this, uh- I know this looks- I really didn’t, didn’t mean to-“ She is stopped by her companion’s finger on her lips, but not a single word. Her head drops and rests on her muse’s shoulder.
Cheesecake can feel the craftswoman’s warm, fast-paced breath against her neck, driving her more insane by the minute. She had dreamed of this for so long- someone to invite over who wasn’t a boring rich person, someone who didn’t spend all party talking about money and expensive cars… someone who was genuine. As her heartbeats go wild, she manages to tilt her head and passionately whisper into the other’s ear. “I’m all yours, Butter Pretzel… I love you~”
Everything breaks down into a steamy, romantic kiss, as Butter Pretzel cannot hold back anymore and plants her lips on Cheesecake’s, pressing her even more against the wall, placing her hands on her love’s torso, gripping her as hard as she possibly can. Her mind is completely empty, only thinking about the delicious feeling of the kiss she is experiencing and about the absolute perfection that is Cheesecake Cookie. The both of them proceed to firmly grab their lover’s shoulders and pull each other closer, completely forgetting about the people, the party, the entire universe, as long as their little affair lasted. Pretzel breaks the kiss for a second and firmly grabs the other’s face while making eye contact. “I love you too, Cheesecake.”
In the blink of an eye, the painter is now sitting down on the bed with her patron sitting on her lap, hugging her as tight as possible, both still unable to separate their love-hungry lips from each other. Pretzel’s hands gravitate towards the rich girl’s legs- those legs she has been unable to get out of her mind for months- and start to softly caress them in a pure display of admiration for their perfect shape. The kiss is constantly broken for a few seconds to take a breather, but they proceed immediately with their gesture of love, absolutely entranced.
An unknown figure very slowly, very slightly opens the door looking for the party’s host. “Cheesecake, are-?“ They seem to not have noticed him at all, but Sparkling Cookie immediately realizes what’s happening and closes the door, acting like he didn’t see a single thing. He would rather not bother his friend at such a crucial moment, the barman just lets her do her thing as he walks downstairs to talk with the people at the party.
“No, she is not upstairs! It’s very strange.” He lies to the guests, making sure the two women are left completely alone. As the night went on, Cheesecake and Butter Pretzel would continue savoring each other’s mouth, cuddling and warming each other like there was no tomorrow. As the night went on, there was less and less room for doubt- they both already knew the only thing they wanted: to stay together, until the very end, until there was nothing left.
The dead of night fostered pure romance, in the party where neither the host nor her special guest were ever seen again.