Work Text:
Celine and Sloane are left alone in the living room, and Celine realizes that she might not have this chance again. She decides to seize the moment.
"Sloane," Celine says, "can I talk to you?" Sloane looks up from her documents.
"The average conversation takes 3 minutes," Sloane says. Celine hasn't known her long, but she knows that means "go ahead".
"What do you think of being gay?" Celine asks. She mentally curses herself. Is there anyway she could have made that more awkward? She thinks that she just hit her peak awkward for the rest of her life.
"1 out of 10 people are homosexual," Sloane says.
"That can't be right," Celine says, thinking about all of her gay friends, "the data must be screwed up because there's so many people in the closet." Maybe that data didn't factor in bi and pan people? Or even asexual or aromantic people who are same gender attracted?
"There was a ten percent margin of error accounted in the data," Sloane says. Which means of course, that Sloane doesn't see where Celine is going. She can clarify. She doesn't want to leave Sloane in the dark.
She really likes her and she doesn't want to be an asshole because Sloane's brain works a little different.
"What I was asking was," Celine says, "well, um, if you were gay. I was asking if you're gay." Celine resists the urge to hide her face in her hands. She has never gotten this tongue tied over a girl before, never ever. This is completely new territory.
She's normally suave, and the wlw fall at her feet. But Sloane doesn't fall for suave. It barely even registers for her, and Celine finds herself wanting to charm her even more because of it.
"I never thought about it," Sloane says. She looks contemplative.
Eventually, she settles on saying, "Statistically speaking, it is unlikely I would find a significant other, male or otherwise.
"Wait," Celine asks, feeling the first bit of anger build within her, "why?"
"I am not desirable," Sloane says. She says it the same way as her statistics, like it's a fact. It's likely someone drilled that into her, and Celine feels her temper rearing its ugly head. She takes a deep breath, and tries to focus on the positives.
"You are the most amazing girl I've ever met," Celine says. It's the complete truth. Sloane can put more emotion into a statistic than most people can put into a sonnet.
She's had girls recite Shakespeare's dark lady sonnets to her. She was never able to get it through their thick, white skulls why that wasn't romantic and was actually kind of racist.
But Sloane? Sloane just is. As far as Celine can tell, she's completely genuine. She loves her friends with all her heart, even though she has trouble expressing her emotions the traditional way.
Sloane turns facts and figures into emotions and art. Celine is an artist to the bone, and she finds herself awed by this. Awed by Sloane in general.
Blondes have always been her type, but Sloane is something else entirely. It transcends that initial level of attraction, and goes somewhere a bit deeper.
"You are anything but undesirable," Celine says. Sloane looks confused. Celine doesn't know why, but she decides to clarify anyways.
"I'm that 1 in 10," Celine tells her.
"Which statistic are we referring to?" Sloane asks. There are a million floating around in her head, and it is likely she has thought of at least thirty in the past minute.
"The gay one," Celine says, "Yes homo. I've been hitting on you all night, Sloane." Sloane turns as red as Cassie's hair.
"Oh," she says. She looks away, and seems to hide behind her blanket of blonde hair. Celine wonders if she came on too strong, too fast. She wonders if Sloane is just straight.
"I think the statistic might be wrong, like you said," Sloane says.
"How so?" Celine asks. She hopes this is going where she thinks it's going.
Sloane smiles as she says, "There may be 2 of 6 naturals who are homosexual." Celine's heart skips a beat.
"For real?" She asks.
"There are four chambers in the human heart. They have nothing to do with feelings," Sloane says, her voice a little shaky. If she hadn't said it in that tone of voice, Celine would have come on a little strong. She might have said "talk anatomy to me" or something else suggestive. She decides that's not what Sloane needs.
Celine takes her hand. Sloane squeezes.