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The bar was bustling, the evening full of promise only a long weekend could bring.
“Togeeeeee~” In Togeice’s honest opinion, Desscaras's one true love was red wine.
“Hey, Togeeeeeeiceeeeeee!” Desscaras dragged the vowels of her name as if she was quartering them in the town square. A firing squad would be much kinder.
“What.” Togeice said at last, deciding that it was less painful to acknowledge her than to have her go into another whine.
Desscaras's lips curled into a smile that allowed Togeice to finally visualize the ‘cat that got the cream’ idiom. “Carry me,” she said.
“You are not drunk enough to need carrying,” Togeice retorted, adjusting her glasses just to have something to do, to mask the way her hands twitched at the prospect of holding Desscaras close.
“Am too!” Desscaras flailed her hands, nearly knocking over her nearly-empty glass next to her nearly-empty bottle of the house primitivo. “I can barely stand straight!” To prove her point, Desscaras rose to her feet, in those ridiculous stilettos of hers no less, standing in what Togeice could only call ‘parade rest’.
Obviously, Desscaras knew it as well, since she leaned forward, breaching Togeice’s personal bubble so that the only thing she could see is the downward turn of Desscaras's lip and brow, the only thing she could smell was the overwhelming mixture of Desscaras's hair oil and perfume and the wine-tang on her breath and the only thing she could hear, despite the rancor of the full bar, was a breathy, “Come on, Togeeeeeee~” somehow going directly to both of her ears and heart and liver and guts and, really, that was just unfair.
Togeice sighed, she had done nothing wrong enough in her twenty one years of life to deserve this. “You may lean against me, if you need to,” she said, before sighing again. No one could ever say that Desscaras didn't grab her victories with tooth and claw, because with a squeal utterly unbecoming of the ‘brightest star of the millennium’—or whatever they threw around to puff up her ego further—she practically threw herself against Togeice's side, leaning enough weight on her that saying that Togeice wasn't carrying her was only a semantic technicality at this point. Togeice wrapped her arm around Desscaras's waist all the same.
The trek to Desscaras's apartment ended up being longer than it needed to, Desscaras drunkenly insisting on a wrong turn. But soon enough they found themselves in Desscaras's foyer, Togeice on her knees because Desscaras refused to unfasten her own boots.
“We would've been here twenty minutes ago if you listened to me when I said, ‘go left’,” Desscaras said, poking Togeice with the foot that wasn't across her lap.
“Don't be ridiculous,” Togeice retorted, “it would've taken us twice as long.” She arranged Desscaras's boots next to her own, then got to her feet.
Desscaras followed the movement with her eyes, tilting her head back a little when Togeice reached full height. Desscaras extended her hands towards her. “Carry me now?” She practically pleaded.
Togeice adjusted her glasses once more, “We're in your house.”
“But I need to get to my bed.” Desscaras fluttered her eyelashes. Togeice really did not deserve this.
“You've walked this far,” she said, grateful her voice remained steady.
“Exactly!” Desscaras nodded, “I'm tired."
They stared at each other for a prolonged moment, but Togeice knew she was only staving off the inevitable. Finally, with the heaviest, deepest and most defeated sigh of the night, she crouched to pick Desscaras up, one arm under her knees, the other around her shoulders.
Desscaras let out a noise that, someone who knew her less might've interpreted as cute, but Togeice knew Desscaras and that included all of her childish, covert gloats.
“Stop or I'll drop you,” Togeice barked.
Desscaras’s hands went around her neck, “Just do it on the bed, alright?” She breathed against Togeice's neck.
Togeice was very glad that Desscaras couldn't see her face at this moment but she was even more glad that there was no mirror. She didn't think she could currently stand to see her own expression.
Desscaras kicked her feet, and Togeice moved before she managed to say something that would really make Togeice drop her. ‘That's right your honor, I killed the “greatest witch alive” because she's twice as annoying as she's amazing.’ Though Togeice genuinely doubted any jury would convict her if only they listened to her plight.
The apartment had apparently been rearranged since the last time Togeice visited, since Desscaras's bedroom was on the opposite side from what she remembered, but it was hardly an issue.
Finally, they reached the bed and, as promised, Togeice unceremoniously dropped Desscaras on it. Without waiting for her to even hit the mattress, she turned to get the hell out of there. Home was a long, contemplative walk away.
Fingers closed around her wrist before she could get further than a single step, however. “Togeiceeee~”
Togeice grit her teeth but refused to turn. “What.”
There was a moment of stillness then, “Do you know what day it is today?” Desscaras's voice lost the playful edge and red flags went up in Togeice's brain. “Or well, was yesterday.” She huffed out a laugh that made Togeice let go of her irritation as if it were hot iron, “I don't know if we passed midnight.”
Togeice glanced at the wall clock, buying herself time to race through Desscaras's important dates in her head. Birthday? No. Anniversary of first acquisition? No. Anniversary of Polaris? No. Libro’s birthday? No, that was also several months off.
“No,” she said finally, “to both.”
At some point between Togeice turning away and her turning back, Desscaras had closed her eyes. “Today, seventeen years ago my mother told me I'll be a big sister.”
Togeice held her breath, fear and unease gnawing at her insides. She didn't want to be here, she didn't want to listen to this, she wanted to burst out of her own skin with gratitude that Desscaras trusted her enough to speak about this in front of her.
“And after today,” Desscaras continued, ignorant or simply uncaring of Togeice’s inner turmoil, “I will officially have been without him longer than I've had him.”
What was there to say to that? Togeice didn't know what to say to that. What could she possibly ever say or even less do against that sort of love and pain?
Togeice shook Desscaras's hand off, then shoved her further along the bed.
“Hey,” Desscaras said, confused more than anything. Togeice didn't give her a chance to figure it out, lying down next to her then dragging Desscaras into the tightest hug she could manage.
Desscaras was strong, and muscular and tall and ate well. Yet despite all of that, the way she styled herself—the loose, flowing clothes, the puffy hair, the heels—made her seem bigger than she actually was. It made the experience of holding her, of realizing that they were roughly of size after all, jarring.
“I'm an only child,” Togeice said into Desscaras's hair.
“I know that,” Desscaras's voice was muffled by Togeice's shirt.
“I cannot possibly know what you're going through,” she continued.
“I know that too,” Desscaras replied.
“I also don't know what to say to make it better,” Togeice felt like she was babbling.
“That you don't,” Desscaras seemed to agree.
“But.” She squeezed Desscaras even tighter, throwing a leg over hers for good measure. “I will hold you when you need me to.”
Desscaras went stiff underneath her. “And I will give you my shoulder when you want it.”
Togeice's fingers seemed to have minds of their own because they started rubbing tiny circles into Desscaras's flesh. “And I will support you and prop you up and give you space and whatever else you might need.” Togeice takes a deep breath.
“That sounds like a confession.” Togeice would be furious at those words, she really would, but Desscaras's voice sounded so fragile, so small, so wet, that all she actually did was squeeze her more firmly.
“Don't be ridiculous,” she said after collecting her thoughts, “Now is not the time for that.”
Desscaras finally, finally snuggled up against her, “But there'll be a time for it?”
Togeice breathed into Desscaras's beautiful, fragrant hair, “You can also confess first.”
Desscaras gave a stuttery laugh, “No way. You gotta admit it first.”
Togeice swallowed, trying to will her heart back into her chest. “All right,” she said, ”When you're feeling better, I'll take you for a drink.”
“You're not gonna put in effort to make me feel better?” The words sounded scathing, but Togeice could feel the curve of Desscaras's smile against her neck.
“I already told you, I don't know how to do anything about this.” Togeice shrugged, “If anyone had asked me before I knew you, I would say it's a loss you don't recover from.”
Desscaras was silent long enough for Togeice to worry that she said something spectacularly ugly. “But you think I can?" She couldn't read Desscaras's voice, nor see her face, nor understand her body.
“I think,” Togeice swallowed, trying to fortify herself into explaining properly, “I think you can do everything and anything in the whole universe,” she said in a rush. This actually felt like a confession and Togeice felt raw and vulnerable.
Desscaras readjusted their position, entangling their legs more tightly but she didn't say anything.
Togeice was struck by lightning, and frozen solid at the same time. She didn't know what to do with herself, but she could hear her heart making its way up her throat.
“Togeice,” Desscaras said, smacking her across the chest.
“What?” Togeice felt that if she didn't whisper the whole world would burst, like a soap bubble.
“Let's sleep. We'll talk tomorrow.”
Togeice’s exhale was long and choppy. She could work with that.