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Ǝna didn’t like to drink.
She liked to sip, maybe. Rugpull. But she didn’t like to swallow, or taste, or feel. Nono, that would be overzealous, and Ǝna was not a flashy girl.
She couldn’t afford to be—not on this salary!
But, butbut. But.
Just this once, during this hour, during this blur between night and day and the receding, chilling fray of yet another task gone to hell, she did. With Ena.
Swaying to and fro and nowhere, shoulders shaking, laugh after laugh pouring from her trembling lips, alcohol coursed and bubbled through her veins.
She only had one cup of the stuff, the juice, the bedazzlement, but that seemed to be enough to knock the wind out of her sails (sales?) and send her flying.
She wasn’t herself anymore, Ǝna long gone, replaced by a manic.
And Ena, Ena, Ena.
All she knew was that Ena,
Ena was telling her stories.
"A-And, then, like… Moony, you know Moony riight?" Her girlfriend preened, making shapes with her arms, laughing in the husky voice she’d take whenever the buzz was on too strong. Ǝna liked that voice. She liked a lot about her.
But, as now wasn’t the time to systematically list such traits, she nods her head instead, bobbing amidst the tide.
"Yeah, yeah!" She chirps, giggling, clapping her hands. As if the entity’s name itself was the punchline. "I know her! I know, I do!"
"Well, like." Ena chuckles, "we… at this, gathering, we. There was a security guard. ‘An she realllyy liked ‘er."
A love story, was it? That’s what this was?
Either way, it has Ǝna enamored. 'Oohing' and 'aahing' at the wayward description, at the thought of a girl such as Moony falling in love. What a rhapsody!
"S-She got all, red, and stuff… started jabbing about this, and yammering about that. Loving. Adoring! Wanting her hand…"
"Her hand?! The scandal!"
"Right!"
The girls devolve into little fits. Sparked, glitched little things that carry all the amusement they could fit. They were scorched, Ǝna knew. Faded beyond recognition.
But it was so fun, too. Fun, fun, somehow, despite what would’ve been fear gripping her heart, about now.
This much fun… was it really allowed?
"And, the weeirdest part? She went with it. Liked it! Ohh, if you could… see the looks on their faces, dear. The looks!"
"The looooks!"
Ena giggles a lot at her parroting. She holds her torso and kicks her legs, cheeks flushed, so merry amidst the fray.
"Cute," she breathes between gasps, and if Ǝna had half a mind, she’d almost think she was talking about her. Couldn’t be, couldn’t be!
"A-Anyways, after the… meandering? Or whatever. The weird go around. I was allowed inside, but Moony… she…"
"A-And then, she," Ena hiccups, waving her hand around aimlessly. Lost in the sparking haze, struggling, grasping at syllables floating in the air. There but not.
"I’uh. ‘Dunno, actually…"
And Ǝna laughs.
Like it’s the funniest damn thing she’d ever heard, head thrown back. Pounding her fists against the counter surface until it hurts but she wouldn’t know.
"You don’t remember! You don’t remember!"
Ena blushes, scowling at herself. Curling her palms as Ǝna revels in the afterlights and the glow and the chaos within her heart.
She’d never felt so, felt so, felt so.
Maybe free, her mind, just as shoddy as the rest of her, supplies. A sensible whisper despite the rising static in her ears. Unaffected by the weight of… anything, everything!
Existing solidly in her prime.
"You should rest." It tells her again, simple, calm. A gentle nudge amidst the pulsing waters, and for some reason or another, Ǝna agrees. It was pretty late, wasn’t it? With the sun hung up and all.
But she couldn’t bring herself to suggest it, as jumbled as her thoughts were. All she knew was that Ena is funny, and pretty all sweat-slick as she is, and she liked how her voice sounded, even when saying nothing at all.
Even as she still said nothing, caught within herself, through a dilemma she couldn’t see, and softly padding over from what was once her place far, far away.
"Dearest," she calls her, whispered, gentle. Somehow completely detached from the drunken mania that polluted her just seconds before, everything about her a cloud. "Dearest, let me take you to bed."
"H-Huhh?? Already? But…" Ǝna huffs, the room spinning. Heat flashes before her and inside and around her, like coals seeping into her skin. It hurt, but not in a bad way. Just there.
Like Ena, whose brushing her bangs up, and kissing the spot revealed.
"We can finish the story upstairs. I think…" her words pause, hanging, thoughtful. And pink (not to be confused with red, Ǝna knew red) dusted her cheeks, sobriety etching itself into her meek smile.
"I think, we’ve had too much."
"I only had a sip."
"I, had too much." Ena corrects, frowning, embarrassed. Sucking in a little breath. "But a sip for you is a dozen, dearest. Let us mend that."
Ǝna pouts. Complains, even as everything swaps from one corner of the room to the other, and Ena disappears and returns a lot.
As she’s helped kindly from her chair, and hoisted against a smaller, yet steadfast body. Ena giggles about her being weightless. Ǝna doesn’t get it.
She mumbles all sorts of things, and throughout their trek, Ena will murmur back. The things she says all make Ǝna laugh a lot.
For some reason, it was just so much easier to do that buzzed.
When Ǝna blinks and the lights stop crisscrossing, she tunes into herself drinking colorless, filtered static. It’s cold and light, and she’s eager to pull in the rest, as a hand sweeps through the expanse of her mind.
"There, that should be enough." Ena mumbles, pulling back the plastic, and Ǝna complains with her throat.
"Sorry, beloved, but… it’s advised your static intake be in doses. I’ll give you more when you wake up!"
"A pity." The intoxicated, the weak, the still, in bursts, amused girl murmurs, gazing up at the darkness of the ceiling.
She still felt really, really good despite everything. Her veins swam with vigor. And yet, somehow, that little voice in the back of her mind, it’s telling her that she needed this.
It’s telling her that it’s okay.
It’s Ena, who goes on to whisper many other things, detached yet assembling like broken, gleaming glass. It takes a blink, then two, then a low, lazy exhale for Ǝna to realize it’s the rest of the story.
"—and they didn’t quite end up together. I mean, Moony didn’t mention her beyond that point. But what they had in those moments was sort of cute, wasn’t it?"
"Mhm."
"…Hehe. Just like your sleepy face." Ena sighs, moving to pinch at the tougher side of Ǝna’s cheek. She whines immediately, annoyed yet not really, wrapping her hand around her protruding, blued wrist.
Ena stops then, placing it primly on her lap, and for a few impulsive seconds Ǝna almost wants it back with her.
"So, um. How do you feel now?"
"Situation… entry."
"Oh! Uh, about… work, I mean to spit. Are you still…?"
Ǝna doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Were they working? Was she? Was the alcohol?
Sort of. But not as highly anymore, a low rumbling in her gut, there but fading as the static fought valiantly inside her.
Ǝna hums.
"’Dunno. I feel good, though."
Ena smiles at her in response, and Ǝna feels the heat return, although it is kinder to her in motion. It crawls up her neck and shoulders and stays there, liking, loving, wanting.
"I see. That is good." Her partner notes, nodding to herself. She then begins to stand and no, no, why is she doing that?
"I am going to clean up the kitchen now. There’s… quite the mess, and— oh?"
Ǝna’s grasping. Past the darkness and the setting sun, the tips of her fingers dipped delicately into the cusp of Ena’s skirt.
She tugs, softly, embarrassed inward yet needing to speak. Needing so many things, but only asking for the one.
"Stay… a while."
Ena stares at her.
She stares, and she stares, and then she smiles again, and the bed begins to creak with her weight. Wordlessly weaving through the thick, blanketing shadow, until she was aptly at Ǝna’s side, her warmth more welcoming than her own.
"Okay." She says without resistance, so kind, in that way.
"But only until you are asleep. Do not curse my name when it happens, and you aren’t anymore, and I’m in another plane."
"Traitor." Ǝna huffs, venomless, her way of acceptance. She pulls Ena close to hug and soak up, heart jumping wherever they connect.
"But… I’ll accept it. You, or whatever, so, just…"
"Rest well, dearest."
"U’hun. I will. I’ll rest so hard, and so well." She says like a challenge, and Ena laughs at her, lighter than downstairs.
Unconstricted by the liquid gold in their systems, simply loving on her own, and it wonders Ǝna so much her eyes are quick to flutter.
And flutter, and flutter, until Ena is gone, yet the feelings she’s felt and has and carried aren’t, and they carry her off to sleep.