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“Raquelle.” The woman perked up at the sound of her name, bleary eyes staring at the approaching figure. Barbie came into view in a cocktail dress and a frown plastered on her face. Unlike usual, her hair was down instead of her usual updo and the disapproving glare on her face didn’t match the dark pink dress she wore. Raquelle tilted her head, mind spinning from the alcohol running in her veins.
“Barbie?” Raquelle mumbled softly and it didn’t take long before her intoxicated mind registered who exactly it is with her right now. A loving smile stretched across her face and an adoring sigh left her lips. She propped up her arm on the table to lean her cheek against the palm of her hand, all while she stared at Barbie with undeniable fondness in her eyes. Barbie felt herself stiffen at the sight. Coming from Raquelle , this wasn’t how she usually stared at Barbie. It was always full of resentment, full of dark emotions, or devoid of any emotions at all. Yet, the same woman was looking at her with pure warmth and fondness. Barbie’s heart skipped a beat.
“Raquelle,” Barbie repeated, tone softer and gentle than earlier. She watched the dark haired woman burst into a fit of giggles, the corner of her eyes crinkling as her smile grew into a mirthful grin. Raquelle hummed in response afterwards, gaze never moving away from Barbie’s. The blonde carefully sat beside Raquelle and her hand hesitantly moved to brush the strands of hair obscuring the other woman’s vision. “You’re drunk,” Barbie stated. Her touch lingered on Raquelle’s skin.
Raquelle nodded, head bobbing too rapidly that Barbie had to interfere and cup her cheek to stop the movement. It got a chuckle from Barbie. She silently took the bottle of whiskey from Raquelle’s hand and placed it further away from her, earning herself a look of betrayal and an angry pout. She ignored it, focused solely on the task of sobering the woman by pouring her a glass of water. One look from Barbie and Raquelle finished the entire glass in one gulp.
“... you’re pretty tonight,” Raquelle blurted out. Barbie stared at her. “I love it when you have your hair down,” she added with a lopsided grin.
Barbie decided that Drunk Raquelle was going to be the death of her. She never handled compliments from Raquelle so well. It worsened when Barbie realized that she was infatuated with her so-called rival and promptly broke up with Ken because of it. She knew a drunken mind was an honest one, and Raquelle was spilling out everything on her mind—which seems to be all about Barbie. She was making it difficult for Barbie to not connect their lips.
“We should get you home,” Barbie cut in quietly, effectively stopping Raquelle mid-rant about Barbie’s agency pushing her too much into projects that physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted the blonde. Barbie was beginning to think that love was more suited to call her feelings than infatuation. No one had noticed, not even her closest friends. But Raquelle did. Her supposed rival had seen through her, more of her than anyone ever did. It was decided—Barbie’s going to viciously make out with her the moment Raquelle’s sober enough for it.
Barbie managed to bring Raquelle back to her villa, unseen by the paparazzi and the wealthy neighbors. She noted that the house was quiet and none of Ryan’s stuff could be seen. She vaguely remembered Ryan offhandedly mentioning something about touring once, when he was attempting to impress her while her eyes were locked on his sister instead.
Drunkenly, Raquelle led them to her room before she let her body fall to her mattress and sink into the softness. Barbie took this chance to let her eyes roam the room and it stopped short on the picture barely visible behind rows of makeup and skincare products. It was of them on their first project together (and their first meeting) on a movie wherein Barbie had the role as the main character while Raquelle was an important supporting character as she was still new to the industry at that time. She had already been guarded, a suspicious frown ever present on her face and lips curled into a defensive snarl. Barbie, despite the warnings from others, still approached her and while they had never been more than acquaintances, Raquelle had let herself be more vulnerable to Barbie than to anyone else, even to her own twin brother. When Barbie caught a small red heart drawn beside her and lipstick kiss mark right on top, her cheeks took on a dark shade of red and her heart pounded behind her ribcage—it felt like it was trying to break free from her chest and offer itself to the woman laying on the bed right behind her.
It scared her to death and yet, she wouldn’t stop her heart from running to Raquelle’s warmth.
Barbie turned around, flinching in surprise to see Raquelle sitting down instead of laying on her back with her brown eyes staring into her blue one’s. The intensity of her stare made Barbie shiver, but she took a step closer and closer, until she towered Raquelle and felt the warmth within her presence. Gently, she cupped her cheek and Raquelle leaned into the touch, sighing with content at the physical contact. Barbie tried to ignore the jolt through her heart, or the sudden loss of strength in her knees. Eventually, Barbie had to speak.
“Raquelle,” she said, the same lilt in her tone that she always found herself using when uttering the woman’s name.
Raquelle hummed. “Barbie,” she whispered to Barbie’s skin and pressed her lips against Barbie’s wrist. One of their breaths hitched. Moonlight slipped through the windows, illuminating the room in a soft white glow. Barbie could see Raquelle’s face, the kiss pressing against her skin and the brown eyes staring up at her.
In a blink of an eye, Barbie’s lips hovered over Raquelle’s.
Her arms steadied her, pinning Raquelle between them while her own arms snaked around Barbie’s neck. Their foreheads were touching, noses brushing against one another gently and hot breaths seeping into their skin. One small move, one small lean forward, and their lips would connect. But Barbie saw it in Raquelle’s eyes. The alcohol still running in her blood, her intoxicated mind, her drunken movements. Barbie settled with guiding Raquelle on her back, pretending to not have heard the whine in her tone when she said Barbie’s name and the desire in her gaze.
“Go to sleep,” Barbie murmured as she ran her fingers through Raquelle’s hair. It elicited a hum from the woman. Raquelle fought the drowsiness, but had lost the battle. Barbie leaned down, smiling slightly at her determination before pecking her on the forehead. “Sleep, love.”
Darkness took over.