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Chevreuse groans something she immediately regrets because it only makes her sandpaper-like throat feel even worse. It feels as dry as like… a really fucking dry desert. As dry as a bone. What a weird saying - aren’t bones usually wet since they’re surrounded by blood and stuff? Chevreuse isn’t a bone doctor or anything, but she definitely knows enough to say that that phrase is bullshit.
Bullshit, she repeats in her head. “Why does it have to be from a bull--”
Chevreuse’s forehead crinkles in confusion at the muffled sound of her voice. It sounded as if there was something lodged in her mouth. Bringing a hand up to her face, Chevreuse spits once, twice, before glaring at the bloodied cotton balls in her hand as if they had somehow offended her.
Chucking the balls to the other side of the room, Chevreuse’s confusion only worsens when she hears a hoarse “Hey, watch it!” come from the direction she threw them in. Even in her muddled state of mind, she knows the cotton balls aren’t sentient, definitely not capable of human speech (…right?), so the only other option is--
“God?” Chevreuse groggily turns her head left and right, trying to catch a glimpse of the divine being herself. “Is that you? Is it my time?”
“Woah,” the voice says again, and Chevreuse finally sees who it’s coming from a tall man whose dark hair covers his eyes, shoving a sticker-covered phone to her face. Not who Chevreuse expected, considering the voice. “How high are you? The audience wants to know.”
“Short.” Chevreuse frowns. “Like…uh five foot four….”
“No--”
Chevreuse hears a soft giggle from her left, so she flops her head (her head feels abnormally heavy, so she can only flop it around on her neck) in its direction to find--
Oh, holy shit.
Chevreuse feels her jaw drop - which hurts in a funny sort of way considering how numb her entire face feels - and she lets out a gasp. The young girl might not have been God, but this woman is certainly, without a doubt, 100% a certified angel. Chevreuse doesn’t even care if she’s dead (okay, she sort of cares; she doesn’t want to leave her student loan to her family, and she hasn’t even finished her will yet, but she’s ignoring that for now) because she somehow landed a spot in heaven, and God she feels so lucky.
Chevreuse’s never really had a type before; she doesn’t care too much about appearances, but this angel is definitely ticking all of her boxes. Apparently, Chevreuse has a thing for girls with short brown hair with a side ponytail that neatly coiled falling to their shoulders, cheeks that scrunch up adorably when they smile, and kind eyes that look at her inexplicably fondly. Who knew?
“Oh my god, those heart eyes,” the man sitting in the corner of the room says, half-groaning and half-yelling at this point, “she’s soooo fucking whipped for you, Chiori. This is insane!”
“Wriothesley,” the angel reprimands.
In an instant, Chevreuse decides that she likes it when her voice is all stern like that. All scolding yet still sweet. Chevreuse likes it so much that she unwittingly lets out a whimper, and the man in the corner -Wriothesley- cackles at the sound.
“This is gonna go viral, Chiori!” He trains his phone back on Chevreuse’s face, making Chevreuse reflexively smile as if she were posing for her school pictures or something. “Quick, Chevreuse! Say something - anything you want! Yeah, what do you want right now?”
“Chiori,” Chevreuse says.
She just now realizes that it must be the angel’s name and inadvertently answers Wriothesley’s question. Chevreuse thinks she likes the way the angel’s name feels in her mouth. Her voice is a little rough (the consequence of having a dryass throat, Chevreuse guesses), but the name still sounds good to her. That sounds right; it is just as pretty and unique as the angel herself.
“Chiori,” she repeats, just because she can.
“Yes, baby?” The angel - Chiori - places a hand on her shoulder, making Chevreuse try her absolute hardest not to freak out because, oh my god, she just called her baby, and oh my god, she just touched her shoulder. “Are you feeling okay?”
Chevreuse gulps. “Hurts.”
Chiori rubs her shoulder in an attempt to soothe her, which doesn’t really work because Chevreuse is sure that her heart rate just spiked. Chiori’s presence just makes her the opposite of calm, and Chevreuse’s glad she’s not connected to a monitor because her elevated heart rate would have set off some sort of alarm.
“Yeah, it’ll be like that for a few more days,” Chiori says, frowning with worry. “But it’ll be a lot better than the headaches and swelling you were getting before.”
“Yeah, you won’t have to whine about your wisdom teeth anymore!” Wriothesley adds helpfully. Chevreuse wonders if the guy has ever gone below 80 decibels, which doesn’t seem likely. “Because, you know, they’re gone!”
“Well, they’re not all gone,” Chiori corrects. “I checked earlier and there was one that grew properly and wasn’t affecting any of the other teeth. Your dentist probably left that one since it wasn’t causing any of the pain. Best to let it grow as usual.”
Pretty and smart. “Do you work here or something?” Chevreuse asks, faux-nonchalantly, trying to glean any information about her. After all, if Chiori is going to be her wife (which Chevreuse’s already decided that she wants wholeheartedly), she ought to know something about her, right? Occupation seems like an excellent place to start.
“Nope, I got a degree in art and design. I own a boutique just down the street.” Chiori shoots her an amused smile, and Chevreuse feels a giddy feeling in her chest build up knowing that she could make this perfect girl smile. “You know that.”
“The only thing I know,” Chevreuse slurs, the bloodied spit in her mouth muffling her words, “is that you’re really really pretty and I kinda sorta wanna hold your hand.”
At that, Wriothesley bursts into laughter, and Chiori covers her mouth with her hand. Chevreuse’s confident bravado and face drops as she sees Chiori’s shoulders shake slightly. She’s laughing. At her. And wow, does it hurt…
But then Chiori reaches over to grab Chevreuse’s hand, and suddenly, everything’s okay again. Soft hand, wow, I’m so gay. Chevreuse is ecstatic at the turn of events, sure that nothing can bring her mood down until Chevreuse notices it—the diamond ring on Chiori’s left hand. Chevreuse deflates instantly. Of course, a girl as pretty, nice, and intelligent as Chiori had to be taken. She's a damn fool for thinking she even had a chance.
Tears start welling up in her eyes, and before she can stop herself, Chevreuse bitterly asks, “So when’s the wedding?”
“What?”
Chevreuse points accusingly at her ring finger, more hurt than she had the right to be, puzzled when Chiori bursts into barely-constrained laughter.
"Baby, you're the one who gave this to me,” Chiori explains with a fond smile. “Look down at your hand.”
Chevreuse does as she’s told and is surprised to find an identical ring. “Wha- we’re engaged?” Can hearts light up with happiness? Do they do that? If they could, then there would definitely be a bright light living in Chevreuse’s chest right now.
“Nope. We’re already married.”
Chevreuse sniffles, feeling the tears welling up in her eyes once more. “I missed my own wedding?”
The dentist comes back into the room only a short time later. She gives Chiori instructions on how to take care of a loopy, bloodied Chevreuse and some fresh gauze pads to replace the cotton balls that Chevreuse had so unceremoniously chucked across the room. Juggling the antibiotics in one hand and the gauze pads in the other - Wriothesley took the pamphlet, zooming in on the gross diagrams of mouths for his video - Chiori clamped Chevreuse’s hand in her arm.
“Ready to go home now?”
“Of course, baby!” Chevreuse says, with an enthusiasm that could rival Charlotte’s. She looks slightly unsure for a second, making Chiori a little worried that she’ll start crying again. “Can I call you baby?”
“Considering how you've done it for over four years now, yeah,” Chiori tells her, “I'd say you've earned the right.”
“Yes!” Chevreuse fist pumps in the air before turning to the amused dentist. “I really did well for myself huh?”
"That you have.” The dentist smiles, obviously charmed by Chevreuse's antics.
Chiori can’t even find it in herself to be jealous because, of course, she’s charmed, and everyone should be. Chevreuse’s bumbling and clumsy confidence had always been oddly endearing, and Chiori was glad other people could see it too. They wonder if Wriothesley’s threat/promise to put it up online is anything to go off by.
And well, the way Chevreuse looks at her with eyes full of amazement helps Chiori’s jealousy stay at bay.
Before they leave, the dentist gives Chevreuse a sticker usually reserved for her “younger clients.” Wriothesley slyly takes one too and adds it to the back of his phone, and Chevreuse proudly sticks hers - something from some kid's show, if Chiori had to guess - on her shirt. She shows it off to Chiori a dozen times (“That’s nice, dear”) and to Wriothesley a handful of times, almost getting into an argument with Wriothesley after he proclaimed his sticker is cooler.
They really shouldn’t let Wriothesley drive, but it was bound to happen since Chevreuse so adamantly refused to let anyone but Chiori - her proclaimed angel - touch her. Besides, Wriothesley had gotten his full licence a whole two months ago and had been begging for someone to let him take them on a drive. Two birds with one stone, Chiori supposes.
That's how Chiori finds herself in the backseat of her own car, hand clasped tightly around her wife's arms.
“I- fuck-- I think they took my tongue,” Chevreuse slurs, tugging her arm out of Chiori’s grasp to pull at her bottom lip.
As she pokes at her still-intact tongue with intense confusion, Chiori considers reminding her how unsanitary her actions are, but eventually decides against it. Chevreuse’s so put together most of the time, so seeing her like this is refreshing.
Her eyebrows are furrowed in confusion as she continues playing with her mouth - something Chiori really shouldn’t find so adorable, considering the thin streams of drool and blood dribbling down the sides of Chevreuse’s lips. Gently, she wipes it with the tissue that the dentist handed her.
“Can we sue them for stealing my tongue?”
“You’re the one who went to law school, dear,” Chiori reminds her gently - which Chevreuse nods sagely at before returning her fingers to her numb lips.
“So if we’re married, does this mean we’ve kissed?” Chevreuse says the last word so scandalously that Chiori can’t even blame how Wriothesley almost swerves the car into oncoming traffic.
“Wriothesley!”
“Sorry, it’s just-- this is fucking ridiculous!” Wriothesley says back, and Chiori’s inclined to agree.
It’s ridiculous how happy Chevreuse is at the mere knowledge that they’re together. They had been fighting pretty viciously for the past week or so - no doubt worsened by Chevreuse’s shitty mood with the toothache and all. So the fact that Chevreuse loves her this much… it’s something Chiori definitely needed to be reminded of. Chiori's glad for the drugs in a weird way.
“We can kiss later when your mouth isn’t so numb,” Chiori offers.
“Yes please!”