Chapter Text
The ebbing thrum of cars drones rhythmically outside, syncopated with the occasional beep and the passing snippets of conversation from people passing by the window. Inside, a coffee machine whirrs, and the air buzzes with quiet conversations, laughter, and the hum of fridges and fans.
"So, what's this about?" Shelby asks, her eyes flicking her up and down.
Drift smiles at her, fingers tugging at a loose strand at her sleeve that she knows she really shouldn't be playing with. Her previous favourite hoodie had ended up with the cuffs split open, huge, matching holes carved out that she would not stop making bigger one loose fibre at a time, until eventually rolling the cuffs to hide it was no longer enough and she'd had to retire it as unwearable, so she really ought to stop before she makes a hole in this one. "What d'you mean? Am I not allowed to miss you and simply want to have brunch together, Shelby?"
Shelby rolls her eyes and stirs her blood tea with its straw. Blood tea being the strange concoction Shelby came up with a few years ago wherein she pours out half her boba tea and replaces it with blood to create a sweet treat that only mildly makes her want to retch. This one is ostensibly supposed to be cherry flavoured, but by the time she adds in enough blood to not immediately throw up with each sip the end result is always just the same sugary tasting blood no matter what drink she started with, and Drift is really not sure how she stomachs it at all. Shelby takes a long, loud slurp and stares at her, "Says the woman who won't stop fidgeting in her seat."
Drift freezes, and sheepishly sets her hands onto the table, "Well..! Can't we at least talk about how you've been, first?"
"Mmm," Shelby hums, punctuating with another sip. "Not much has changed with me. Still busy writing my manuscripts, doing well otherwise."
Drift scratches an itch on her cheek, "That's good, that's good. You got a lot left to write?"
"Who can say, the stories end up as long as they want to be," she narrows her eyes at her, "But really, what is this about, Drift?"
Drift grimaces and looks away, and then sighs. "Well... it's... about Aimée."
"Aimée?" Shelby exclaims, her drink thumping onto the table, "Oh, tell me more!"
"Mmmmm," Drift continues to grimace, her face in fact actually scrunching up even further, as if she had sucked on a lemon, "Well, I mean," she groans and rubs her face, "Ugh. Alright, so basically—gay marriage was legalised a few years ago, right?"
A smug grin spreads onto Shelby's face.
Drift glares at her, "Stop that. Whatever you're thinking—stop. Ugh." she huffs and leans back in her chair, "Aimée proposed immediately after the legalisation, and I of course said no. It's been near two centuries, why would I say yes now?" she gestures dismissively into the air.
Shelby's grin falls and is replaced by a deeply unamused quirk of the brow, "Well, because you could marry as two women, as has been your self professed sticking point this whole time?"
Drift smiles at her and leans forward again, "Ah yes, but Shelby you must consider: I love a good bit. I'm not going to give it up after this long."
Shelby sighs and stirs her drink again, "Riiight. And so where is this going, Drift?"
The smile drops from her face, and Drift looks out into the café at the smattering of people gathered for their own brunches and coffees. "She stopped proposing to me, after that."
"...Mm," Shelby hums, and slurps her gross tea, "Well, I can't say I blame her."
"No, of course not," Drift laughs breathily, glancing back at Shelby, "I just didn't expect to miss it when it was gone."
Shelby returns her a sympathetic smile, "Perhaps you should have said yes, then."
Drift leans against the table and sets her head into her hand, "Well, that's just the thing. She... she proposed again for the first time the other day, and I... hesitated. Only for a moment, but long enough that I could see her notice—gleefully so. I honestly half expect her to try again tomorrow, probably. And... well... ugh. It's just—the problem is, at this point, the idea of saying yes feels like losing."
"Is that really it?" Shelby asks, her smug grin returning to her face and her eyes crinkling with delight, "Drift, the answer to that is obvious. You don't say yes."
Drift frowns at her, "Well sure, that's what I'm doing already, but—"
"No, no," she cuts in, "You, Drift, don't say yes." She sips her drink, and waits for her meaning to hit Drift.
Drift just stares at her, brows knitted together, half mouthing what?—then her eyes go wide, her cheeks bright red, and she sits straight up in her chair, staring at Shelby, "Wait, I ask her?"
Shelby slurps extremely loudly, then chews on her boba.
"Oh my god, Shelby. I hadn't even—" a hand flies to her chin, and her eyes dart back and forth, chasing a thousand thoughts in her mind, "Shelby, you're an actual genius."
She preens, brushing her hair back behind her ear, "I know, I know, you're welcome."
"No seriously, like, oh my god. I could kiss you."
Shelby laughs, "Save that for your wife to be, Romeo."
Drift's face shrivels into itself, "Oh nevermind, actually. Giving Aimée the satisfaction of calling her my wife?" she stares at Shelby and shakes her head, "I feel like I just had a sip of your nasty drink."
"Hey, my drink is not nasty!" she glares at Drift and pointedly sucks another sip, her cheeks puffed out.
Drift is immediately put in mind of a hamster with a water bottle, and can't help but laugh, "If you say so. How close are you to hurling right now?"
Shelby sniffs and tilts her head up, "I'm fine. You just have a weak stomach."
"Wh—" Drift blusters, "I do not have a weak stomach!"
Shelby's eyes slowly creep around to look at her, crinkling with mischief, "Oh really? Then surely you can stomach calling Aimée your wife?"
"I—wh—those things do not correlate!" Drift exclaims, indignant.
Shelby grins at her, "Do you want to go look at rings together? I'm free all morning."
Drift opens her mouth, then closes it again, her face almost as red as Shelby's drink. She leans against the table and hides her face in her hands. "Sure," she squeaks, then lifts her face from her hands and clears her throat, "I mean, yes Shelby, that would be a great help," she says in a much deeper voice.
Shelby laughs, "Alright then, lets head out after I finish this."