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Joanie’s arm was covering her face as she slept, stirring awake ever so slowly. The bright sunlight spilled through the cracks in the blinds, making the room feel slightly warm. She brought her arms down to her sides as she turned her head to the side, staring at the back of her girlfriend’s head.
Her hair was short. It stopped just past her ears and was done in a hurry— resulting in a shaggy haircut that was hard to enjoy. That didn’t stop Joanie from liking it. She thought it was pretty. She thought the poorly bleached color was pretty, and she liked the look of outgrown roots revealing an almost reddish brown. Truth be told, she only liked it because it was Ponygirl’s hair. She knew the hair was considered ugly by most, but she couldn’t help but admire how the sunlight hit it.
She brought her hand up and brushed her hand across the yellowish, almost white hair. She wrapped a few strands around her finger and felt the slightly scratchy but somehow soft texture she’d grown quite acquainted with. A smile formed on her lips as she twirled her hair around her finger. Despite the bleached texture, it moved smoothly and didn’t get too tangled. Joanie chuckled to herself slightly, shifting her legs to the best of her ability to move them to a colder segment of the sheets.
She brought her hand down to Pony’s shoulder, just letting it rest there. Being with Ponygirl was enough, but she’d begun to get slightly anxious whenever there was ever any uncertainty about Pony’s whereabouts. It was a shared concern the gang had about, well, anyone in the gang. After Windrixville, they’d wound up closer than ever. Especially Pony and Joanie. She supposed any physical contact helped subdue that anxiety.
She reached her hand under Pony’s hair and scratched her scalp gently, almost as if she were scratching a cat. She knew she’d absolutely hear it once Pony woke up— something about ‘You got dirt in my hair!’ or something along those lines, but Joanie really couldn’t care about that right now. Ponygirl was used to being covered in dirt and grime anyway, in fact it was kind of gross. She’d track dirt into the house and Darla would yell at her about it, as well as everyone else in the gang.
‘Just use the damn doormat!’ She would yell about ten times a day, the thought pulling a giggle from Joanie. Of course, Joanie respected and cared for Darla just as much as anyone else. Just… not so much that doormat. Nothing a broom couldn’t fix, anyway.
Speaking of which, “Dallas I swear to God, you bring so much dirt into this house one more time, I’ll beat you with your own cane!” Darla hissed on her way out the house. Dally said something in return, but she was too quiet for Joanie to hear. Actually, Joanie wouldn’t have known Dally was even here if not for Darry yelling at her. Ponygirl shifted around, making Joanie pull her hand away from her hair. She rolled over to face Joanie, still sound asleep. How could she sleep through Darry’s yelling?
Joanie’s eyes ran over Pony’s sleeping face, how her eyebrows furrowed and her leg jerked every now and then. Bad dream, she supposed. Bad enough to stir her awake. Joanie watched Pony’s eyes flutter open, hazy and dark as she searched her surroundings until she found Joanie. She took a moment to recognize the fact it was Joanie, and not Sodapop. Joanie waited for her to say something, but she didn’t. Neither of them did. They just stared at each other.
And then Pony pulled herself closer to the older girl. She grumbled under her breath as she wrapped her arms around her torso, pushing her head against the crook of Joanie’s neck.
“Bad dream?” Joanie whispered, getting nothing but a nod in response. “New one?”
Ponygirl shook her head, “Windrixville.”
“Ah,” Joanie nodded, bringing her hand back up to Pony’s hair, carefully placing her fingers against her scalp. Her other hand found itself holding Pony’s shoulder tightly. The latter had begun to have a new recurring nightmare. Every night, it was either about her parents or about the church. It stopped mattering if there was someone next to her or not. For the better or worse… she’d also stopped waking up in the middle of the night from them. She’d been enduring them all the way through, and that couldn’t be fun.
“‘M still tired,” Pony complained, noting how Joanie began pressing soft circles against her scalp, and how it undoubtedly messed up her hair.
“Go back to sleep,” The hand on Pony’s shoulder moved to the small of her back, pulling her closer and forcing her to straighten herself out of her curled up position.
“I’ll just have another nightmare, not worth it,” and while Joanie hated how bad Pony’s dreams were, she couldn’t ignore how mellow her voice was in the morning. Her usual high-pitched defensive voice was much softer in the morning.
“You wanna get up, then?” She asked, pulling a slightly agitated sigh from the younger girl.
“Eventually, ‘m fine being here with you right now.”
Joanie nodded in return, “I think Dal’s here. Maybe I can force her to make some breakfast?”
“Not hungry.”
“You’re never hungry.”
“Sure I am,” Pony shrugged, “Just not now.”
“Whatever you say.”