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“I asked her, you know,” AJ mumbled, and Magpie blinked, looking up from their painting.
“Sorry?” they asked, and watched as AJ swallowed, not taking her eyes off of her own canvas.
“Fairy,” AJ said, dipping her brush in black paint, studying the canvas to find the perfect spot.
Once she’d found it, she continued, “I asked her if you two were seeing each other, before we…” — she gestured vaguely with her brush — “Y’know. She said she thought that wasn’t what you wanted.”
Magpie’s heartbeat quickened, the hand holding her own paintbrush trembling slightly. “I… oh,” they said, blinking rapidly, frustrated by the sting of tears that shone in her eyes.
“I should have asked you, too,” AJ continued, her voice soft and careful in a way that hadn’t escaped Magpie’s notice — this was a tone they rarely heard her use, and each instance seemed to have a common denominator. “I realized that, after.”
Magpie could hear the small smile in AJ’s voice as she continued, “When you burst into my room to beat me up and lecture me.”
Despite their shame, Magpie scoffed. “That is not what I—” she started, before faltering at the memory, cheeks flushing bright red.
AJ met their gaze, now, visibly laughing. “What would you call it, then, Magpie?”
Magpie frowned, trying and failing to bite back a smile of her own. “Fine,” they admitted, “maybe that’s kind of what I did. But it’s like I said—”
“Complicated feelings,” AJ finished, fondly, “I know, I know. And that’s okay. I- I appreciated your honesty about it.”
Magpie simply nodded, unsure of what to say.
“And, for whatever it’s worth,” AJ added with a shrug, “this… thing between Amber and me, it’s only casual. I know I said that already, but I don’t know if you really understood. It’s not… there aren’t any complicated feelings there, y’know? We both know it’s just physical, just a- a little fun, once in a while.”
Magpie nodded again, gaze fixed on their canvas.
“But…,” AJ continued, slowly, her voice softening again at the edges, “I’ll stop if it makes you upset.”
Magpie’s eyes widened in surprise as they looked up once more to meet AJ’s, and the lie she’d had at the ready — something like “It doesn’t make me upset,” or “It’s okay, I just overreacted” — died in their throat.
AJ’s eyes, dark brown in a way that almost seemed black, sometimes, were void of judgement or mirth as they searched hers; a budding smile ghosted her lips, small and patient…
It was hard, sometimes, to know when AJ was being truthful.
Magpie knew that. They struggled seeing through AJ’s act sometimes, too, though she struggled admittedly less than most.
But this? Right now? No, this was — this was AJ with no one to perform for; this was AJ, looking at Magpie the way Magpie looked at her, actually seeing — this was real.
“Okay?” AJ offered, nodding in the way she did sometimes, searching wordlessly for confirmation.
“Okay,” Magpie replied, mirroring her nod, “thank you.”
“Of course, Magpie,” AJ said, a bit of her usual bravado returning, “or, y’know, you could always join us…”
Magpie balked, scandalized, despite knowing that AJ was joking.
(…Probably. Right?)
“AJ!” they screeched, a bit of green paint flinging from her brush as she waved her hands in surprise.
Magpie watched as it flung through the air, somehow landing perfectly in AJ’s hair from where she stood across from them, hunched over with laughter.
Both of them froze.
Slowly, without taking her eyes off of Magpie, AJ dipped her brush back into her paint, making sure to coat it thoroughly. And then, before Magpie could react, a glob of black flew through the air, landing on their cheek.
Magpie gasped as AJ dissolved into a fit of giggles.
“Oh, you little—!”
AJ ran, ducking behind easels and supplies, giggling as Magpie gave chase, the both of them flinging paint across the room.
About half hour later, from her latest hiding spot, AJ asked, breathless, “Truce?” and Magpie agreed, slumping down beside her, thoroughly exhausted.
For a moment, they both just sat there and caught their breath.
Magpie spared a look over at her friend and began to giggle. “You look like a unicorn threw up on you,” they said between laughs, staring at the splatters of color which covered AJ’s body.
“So do you!” AJ countered, gesturing at Magpie, but then she was laughing, too, and they were both clutching at their sides, struggling for breath.
“This,” AJ wheezed, “is… going to… be… such… a pain… to clean up.”
Magpie glanced around at the art room: easels were knocked over, supplies littered the floors, and splatters of paint covered nearly every surface.
Laughing, she let her head fall against the wall. “I think it adds a nice touch of color to the place,” Magpie said, lightly, only betrayed by the slight twitch of their lips.
AJ tilted her head, slightly, as if considering this. “You know what,” she agreed, “you’re so right. I think we’ve made some real improvements.”