Work Text:
Patricia staggers out of the dancing circle, heels skittering across the floor. Oh, she’d completely forgotten that she was wearing heels. How silly! She looks down at herself, laughing, head throbbing with a sudden sharp weight as her knees threaten to give out.
“Gotcha!” Someone grabs her by the shoulders and she looks up to see Kris staring dully at her. No, Kris beaming at her, eyes kinder than they’ve been since high school. “Takes a lot out of you, doesn’t it? You were kinda going wild.”
“Oh, yeah, I...” Stop blushing. Hostesses don’t blush. “I guess I looked pretty dumb, huh?”
“No, not dumb.” Kris guides her away from the chattering crowd, her hands still steady on Patricia’s shoulders. Patricia probably doesn’t need any more help, the heels aren’t that bad, but she can’t quite bring herself to push Kris away.
“You were gorgeous out there.” Kris leans forward, the smell of her perfume making Patricia dizzy. “Smoking hot.”
Her mouth presses against Patricia's, so soft, so warm. So slack, hanging open as Patricia kisses back. Opening wider, wider, like a call. Like a scream--
Patricia's heels screech on hardwood, painfully loud, and she breaks the kiss with a yelp. "Sorry!"
"Don't worry." Kris looks at her so warmly, so forgiving. "You've got to do the toast, right? We can catch up later."
"Right, the toast!" And then, later. Patricia can't help smiling as she hustles back to the kitchen; something tells her that things are finally looking up.