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Summary
She's deciding whether she should double down and make a proper thing of it, or apologise for her big gob, when-
She clocks the slow, lazy smile spreading across her girlfriend’s face.
“I knew it,” Lisa grins, chin cocked. “You are, aren’t you?”
“What?” Carla bites, defensive, knowing the next thing out of the blonde’s mouth will be-
“Jealous,” Lisa says, dragging it out. Almost tasting the word. Revelling in it.
Or: We've seen jealous Lisa. How about jealous Carla?