Monet turns down her offer to help, but Pansy finds herself smiling nonetheless.
I've been planned for weeks. It wasn't enough to just say no. She wants to roll her eyes, but instead her smile -- typically obedient -- grows. It chose today of all days to have a mind of its own. Pansy beats it down by tightening her lips and narrowing her eyes. "Fine." But she's already shown her cards and the one-word reply lacks any real bite.
She didn't expect Monet to take her up on the offer. But Pansy wonders if she was tempted at least. If there was something she wanted Pansy's help with with but wouldn't let herself admit. Maybe. Maybe not. They're both stubborn. They both know they're stubborn. And yet their awareness does nothing to change their behavior. Pansy exhales, tipping her head down as she does, her smile turning slightly rueful. She sits back against the chair, mirroring Monet's body language. She slides her hands into her pockets, fingers finding the gifted pin and curling around it.
Soon she'll be at prom. Another checkpoint signaling the end of the year on the horizon. There will be dancing, music, yelling over the music. Photos and food. It'll be chaotic and colorful and fun. She will be pulled in a million different directions. Attention divided. Spread thin.
Pansy lifts her head back up and tips it to the side. It's just the two of them here. The muffled laughter and conversation of their peers barely making it in through the window. "I can stay and talk."
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Pansy and Monet Get Ready
Date: 2019-05-05 10:53 pm (UTC)I've been planned for weeks. It wasn't enough to just say no. She wants to roll her eyes, but instead her smile -- typically obedient -- grows. It chose today of all days to have a mind of its own. Pansy beats it down by tightening her lips and narrowing her eyes. "Fine." But she's already shown her cards and the one-word reply lacks any real bite.
She didn't expect Monet to take her up on the offer. But Pansy wonders if she was tempted at least. If there was something she wanted Pansy's help with with but wouldn't let herself admit. Maybe. Maybe not. They're both stubborn. They both know they're stubborn. And yet their awareness does nothing to change their behavior. Pansy exhales, tipping her head down as she does, her smile turning slightly rueful. She sits back against the chair, mirroring Monet's body language. She slides her hands into her pockets, fingers finding the gifted pin and curling around it.
Soon she'll be at prom. Another checkpoint signaling the end of the year on the horizon. There will be dancing, music, yelling over the music. Photos and food. It'll be chaotic and colorful and fun. She will be pulled in a million different directions. Attention divided. Spread thin.
Pansy lifts her head back up and tips it to the side. It's just the two of them here. The muffled laughter and conversation of their peers barely making it in through the window. "I can stay and talk."