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Every single time Illeana's cheeks flush when their eyes meet, Stormy feels herself involuntarily mimicking her. Heat floods her face but she can't put a finger on why, she can't understand what could possibly make Illeana feel so flushed or embarrassed. She wants to ask but she can't find the words on her tongue.[break][break]

So she resorts to tipping the last remains of the first bottle of wine into both her glass and Illie's. She giggles as she offers a toast, waiting for the satisfying clink of glass. [break][break]

The woman's lips tickle her skin as she whispers her promises and Stormy feels her heart skip, pumping loudly in her chest. Her knees feel weak but she forces away the reason why, blaming it on the wine. She doesn't want to ruin this, because she always does.[break][break]

Illeana's fingers find purchase in hers and their fingers interlock with the ease of two old lovers: perfectly.[break][break]

"You are so special to me."[break][break]

She sighs thoughtfully but eventually breaks apart from the woman in favor of a new idea. Her fingers had begun to prune and her body temperature had begun to rise. She felt fevered and it was time to cool down and dry off. [break][break]

Stormy does not let go of the woman's hand, however, as she tugs her toward the exit. She uses her pinky to scoop up the towel as she exits the baths, water shedding off of her skin and dampening the warm rocks under her feet. [break][break]

"Let's go for a walk, it'll be fun."[break][break]

With her hands full, she isn't able to retrieve the second, full bottle of wine left behind. She quickly drops the towel in favor of the bottle, unbothered by having nothing to conceal her skin until she could get dressed.

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[attr="class","illieicon"]

[attr="class","illie b"]she can feel things shifting, changing, and it terrifies her. the notion that she's crossing a line, seeking too much, asking for so much more clings to her mind like the smell of smoke on skin. she's going to ruin this. ruin her friend, ruin herself. and even as the thought crosses her mind, settles with too heavy of a weight to handle, she still chooses to ignore it. maybe it's the wine or the affection she's always searching for but she can't stop for even a moment to consider anything else but remaining as close to stormy as possible. it'll be fine, she convinces. nothing will change. they'll be together forever. except, she's letting her hopes get too high and it'll suffocate her.

her glass rises to meet stormy's halfway, the satisfying clink that seems to reverberate around them bringing a grin to her face. and then, she's downing the remainder of the wine in one sip, lips parting to breathe out a sigh. they're stained by now, mirroring stormy's, and each swipe of her tongue across her bottom lip tastes of nothing but wine and chocolate. it's delightful in a way she hasn't known before and perhaps now that she's aware, she'll indulge in this once more.

their fingers lock, intertwine, and settle with a warmth that feels so right, so natural. it's easy and simple and so them that she can't help herself. her hand gently tugs at their joined palms, rising and rising until the skin at the back of stormy's hand is brushing against her lips. a butterfly kiss is peppered across the warm skin and her lips curl before pulling away. "and you to me," she murmurs. it's soft, vulnerable, revealing too much and yet not enough at all. and yet, she's taking a chance, daring to continue if only to solidify the notion in stormy's mind that she's everything illeana has ever hoped to find. "i'd be so lost without you."

and then, the warmth held between the closeness of their skin ebbs and fades and she's fighting off a shiver as it comes. suddenly, she's cold and the rush of excitement dies in her chest. had she overstepped? did she say something wrong?

before she can ponder on it any longer, stormy's tugging at their joined hands and she's relenting without much of a fight. it's easy to follow her, to chase her. and despite their closeness in the warm water, she still flushes at the sight of stormy's body. her eyes quickly dart away, a wildfire of redness overtaking her cheeks and she's suddenly reminded of how awkward she can really be. "where are we going?" illeana winces at the wobble in her voice, the slight crack of something piercing through the syllables as they leave her lips. if she wasn't sure that stormy could feel how flustered she is, she's certainly positive it's a known fact now.

her free hand seeks the plush fabric of her robe, pulling it toward her as her body rises from beneath the water. droplets cling to her skin, too stubborn to leave curves, and she's contemplating grabbing a towel just to dry off. ah, but stormy's too distracting and she's simply left standing there, cheeks flushed and lips parting to form a slight o shape. her robe barely covers anything and she's all legs and scars, curves and damp hair slowly beginning to curl at the ends.

as if suddenly self conscious, illeana draws the robe closer, pressing the fuzzy fabric into her body. and yet, she doesn't slip it on just yet. no, instead she giggles at stormy's abandoning of her own towel in favor of the bottle. "you know," she chuckles, a wink following. "you always have the best priorities!" really, she would've gone for the wine too. it's more practical, more needed than a silly little towel. and then, she's grinning, plucking the abandoned towel off the ground and drifting back into stormy's orbit, the piece of fabric extended toward her friend.

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Stormy can't help but allow the warm feeling to flood her senses, to allow their closeness to reach a new level. She's happy, even despite the heaviness that threatens to hold her down. With Illeana, her pain seems to melt away, like she's been given something new to focus on. It's relieving, like a breath of fresh air. And she takes as big a gulp as she can. Her head is no longer under the water, she can feel the air on her face and feel her lungs expand.[break][break]

As if she were a mirror, Stormy downs the last bit of her glass as Illie does, tilting her head back and allowing the liquid to reach the back of her throat. Her tongue runs along her bottom lip slowly, a breath escaping past her lips - it smells like wine and chocolate.[break][break]

And then Stormy's dizzy thoughts are distracted by the soft tugs of her arm and she feels herself drawing closer instinctively, following the direction she's being given. The back of her hand is pressed to warm lips and her heart thuds in her chest at the display of affection. Some part of her is afraid, the part of her that knows she dives into things too quickly - the part of her that tries to hold her back. [break][break]

But the alcohol clouds that judgment and makes it distorted and unclear. As quickly as Illeana's kiss is pressed to her soft skin it disappears when she pulls the woman out of the water. She stumbles as her damp feet touch solid ground and when she stands up, holding the bottle of wine and her glass between her fingers, she's giggling and smiling.[break][break]

Her skin is golden in the soft light of the lamps hovering over the baths. Their yellow light highlights her scars, her burns, making them nearly white as they catch the light. She is riddled with terrible marks, indications of great pain and fear. They tell a story like a tapestry on her bare skin, and they are bright as can be when held up against tanned skin.[break][break]

"Anywhere! Let's see where our feet take us."[break][break]

Lavaridge wasn't the most beautiful town in Hoenn but she had a feeling that with Illie, she could find beauty anywhere. Just the thought of going anywhere with her caused her heart to skip, her breath to catch. There was more to Illeana than she first thought, than she first expected. It was a little bit intimidating.[break][break]

Because of this surge of emotion, Stormy pulls her closer just as Illeana offers her her towel, the one she had abandoned in search of more giggle juice. Should she have stepped closer with the gentle tugs of her hand, Stormy would press a warm kiss on the woman's hand in the same fashion that she had received.[break][break]

Stormy pulls away slightly, a smile spreading on her face as she works to fathom the rapid beating of her heart. But she pushes it aside again as she does all things that intimidate her and that she can't immediately identify to instead lead Illeana back into the changing room.[break][break]

She let's go of her friend's hand to fumble the lock on her storage unit, her fingers clumsy and slow. The sun had begun to fall and with it, a subtle drop in temperature. But she was vulnerable in her current state, the wine inhibiting her judgment and the cold causing goosebumps to spread across her skin. [break][break]

When the door finally opens she quickly changes back into her clothes, tugging the soft shirt over her head and turning to Illeana.

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[attr="class","illie b"]her lips curl against the skin of stormy's hand, soft and sweet and appreciative all at once. her eyes drift toward red, settling against the curve of her nose, the high cheek bones, the crinkle of her eyes. charcoal and red blend and in this moment, it's just her and stormy and the weight of existence dissipating between them. the dim glow of the lights around them almost gives stormy a halo and she's finding that she's never felt holier than now.

she knows somewhere, somehow, that she's pressing her luck, pressing the boundaries until they break. and while she normally plays it safe, plays it comfortable and easy, something about stormy makes her want to be daring and adventurous. walk on the wild side, welcome it into her life like an old lover. maybe it's the heat in her skin or the wine staining their lips but she's gazing at the face of an angel and the urge to sin has never felt stronger.

stormy wears her scars like medals of honor, reminders of survival and rising above the flames, and it's impressive. how do they not bother her? how does she reveal them for the world to see? the soft fabric of her robe is pressed a little closer as if the fuzziness alone is enough to wipe her own scars from her body, erase them from existence until they're nothing more than a distant memory. it's impractical, however, and yet she's holding on with white knuckles like this robe is the only thing protecting her from having her memories picked apart and analyzed over and over again. illeana knows stormy wouldn't overstep, wouldn't pry, but the thought of having to explain, having to remember, has her body stiffening.

and then, her muscles relax and she's flashing a fuzzy smile because she'd walk to the ends of the earth if it meant stormy's hand was in hers again.

"lead the way," she murmurs and perhaps she's showing too much, revealing emotions that shouldn't be rising as quickly as they are. ah, but she's always worn her heart on her sleeve and despite the missing pieces, it's still coming to life at the smile on stormy's face.

the tug isn't resisted. no, instead it's welcomed with an almost shy flutter of eyelashes against tops of cheeks and the sensation of lips pressing against her hand has her stifling a gasp. it's warm and she's flushed and maybe it's the wine or the atmosphere but she's never felt so loved, so accepted, so admired in her life. pieces click into place and part of her wonders if this is what coming home feels like. she's never felt it before, really, but stormy's presence at her side has her believing that home has never been a house but a feeling for a person.

illeana's following like a puppy, happy and content with slightly wobbly legs. too much alcohol has her limbs slowly ebbing into jelly... or, maybe it's too much stormy and she's putty in her hands. either way, she's eyeing her feet as she goes, nose scrunching with mild concentration. don't stumble, don't fall, don't take her down with you. it's difficult and she's like a baby deer but they make it without any train wrecks and the prospect of covering herself up with suffocating clothes once more is both comforting and terrifying all at once.

while stormy fiddles with the lock on her locker's door, the scientist struggles with her own. are they supposed to be this complicated? the beginning of a childish pout rises to her lips and she's about to heave out a frustrated sigh when the telltale sound of a lock popping open has her grinning from ear to ear. success! clothes! a shiver tickles its way down her spine, goosebumps rising, and she hadn't realized just how far the temperature had dropped until stormy's warmth left her side. her hands are quicker now, fumbling toward abandoned clothes with a sudden desire for a shield against the chill of the night.

and then, she's shoving herself into tight jeans and a plush sweater, covering and covering until she feels whole and safe and satisfied. it's a habit she can't shake, won't shake. cover the memories, cover the scars until they can't hurt you anymore. stormy turns toward her after a moment of hazy thoughts and she's giggling, hands already stretching back into her orbit because she's icarus flying dangerously close to the sun. "ready?"

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Stormy has never been afraid but in this moment she is. Without even fully realizing it she's holding back, playing it safe. She isn't taking that dangerous next step that she knows she wants. She's vulnerable, lost, confused. Her heart belongs to another and yet she feels it being tugged away, tempted by the beautiful woman she's come to know as her best friend.[break][break]

It makes her head spin and her skin tingle whenever Illeana touches her. The kiss against the back of her hand is still warm, almost glowing with a reminder that yes, it had happened. [break][break]

She feels woozy but she chalks it up to the wine in her system. Pretends that she isn't feeling what she thinks she's feeling - it's just misdirected affection and pain from a situation she had run away from.[break][break]

And she can't help the way her eyes drift lazily over Illeana's, taking in the soft shape of her curves, the timid way she composes herself. She notices how tightly she holds the robe to her chest, the soft fabric doing it's best despite little guidance to mask the scars she's riddled with. The ex-gym leader is genuinely surprised by how many marks Illeana has - there was nothing about her that suggested she lived dangerously. [break][break]

But she isn't one to pry and she has never been one to judge, so she doesn't say anything at all except offer the woman a smile. Because she deserves a smile for all of the unsaid horrors she's experienced, the pain she's survived. She deserves the world.[break][break]

Their footsteps aren't in sync as they stumble into the dressing room. She can feel herself slide and giggle as she corrects herself, coming to a stop before fiddling with the lock. It appears they both struggle with fine motor skills, their fingers too slow and clumsy despite the insistence they have. [break][break]

She's forced to take a seat when she goes to put her tight-fitting jeans back on. It seems she doesn't trust her balance as bare feet push through the pantlegs. With a few bounces she fastens the button and grabs her jacket that had been hanging off to the side. Feet slide into delicate sandals but she doesn't bother to fasten them.[break][break]

When she meets Illeana's gaze again the woman's hands are extended, begging to be held. Stormy obliges without a second thought, reaching forward to grasp the woman's elbows and tug her into a warm hug. She presses her cheek into the plush sweater, absorbing some of her warmth.[break][break]

"It got cold, didn't it? Not that Lavaridge is that cold, maybe I'm just a baby."[break][break]

She speaks softly, like the wine is making her tired. Or maybe she's just tired from concentrating on her words so that they didn't sound slurred. She smiles into Illie's shoulder before pulling away, still holding her gently under the elbows. As she moves to separate she catches her hand, fingers easily folding to fit in between hers. It feels practised now.[break][break]

And then she's leading them outside and under the lamp-posts that aren't particularly flattering in terms of lighting but are soft and warm. The stars have begun to come out bit by bit as the purple and orange sky seeps below the horizon. It's beautiful.[break][break]

"Come on, let's go!"[break][break]

At first her steps are hurried, like they're running out of time. But after a while Stormy slows to a walk, perhaps worried if they sped up too much they'd stumble and fall. Eventually the town falls away at their backs and they're left in the open. Stubby shoots of grass appear underfoot as they stray from the beaten path. Stormy's leading them away from civilization it seems, tempting her into the unknown.

[break][break][break]

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[attr="class","illie b"]the skin of her hand feels like it burns, igniting beneath the lightest pressure from stormy's lips. it lingers even after her lips leave, after the warmth of a kiss fades into fuzziness and she's left breathless. is her skin supposed to feel like this? is a display of affection like that supposed to make her knees weak? it did and it still does. the effect is dizzying but stormy grounds her with a smile. previous insecurity almost fades away from her body beneath red eyes and she's clutching the robe a little looser now, like less of a lifeline and more of the piece of fabric it is.

there's acceptance here, mingling into affection, and scars feel less like weights against her skin. instead, they almost feel like constellations, like maps that lend themselves to tell a visual story of trials and endurance. perhaps it's the way that stormy wears hers so well that has illeana a little more confident in displaying her skin. the safety she finds within the comfort of covering herself from head to toe is present in this corner of the hot springs tonight and it has a habit of reminding her that this woman is the closest thing she has to home. the closest person in her life, her favorite form of existence, her sun.

if she melts from her wings, at least she will have experienced this moment, this love, before plunging into the ocean.

her smile is hazy, content, loving. tinted red and smelling of wine, it feels comfortable on her lips in the presence of her best friend. sure, they practically stumble over themselves as they make the way-more-difficult-than-it-should-be walk to the locker room but it's punctured by giggles and a fuzziness that seems to settle over both. hands locked securely, legs like baby deer, the two dark haired women look like a couple of disasters but together, they are a masterpiece.

in her daze, she doesn't realize she forgot her boots until stormy's slipping sandals on. her mouth parts into an embarrassed grin as she scrambles for the shoes. whoops, can't leave without those! the leather slips on comfortably and easy, tops settling just above her knees. and then, her attention is drawn back entirely to her friend and there, it stays.

stormy completes the connection and all feels right in the world. it feels normal, natural, as if her hands have always been meant to be held by her, and she's giggling at the thought. it drifts away as she's pulled closer, body settling against hers and she finds herself wondering if she can feel the quickness of her heart. the organ feels like it's hammering against the bones of its cage, echoing in her ears. and yet, she feels so whole, so put together that even the pieces she thought were missing settle against each other in her arms. "yeah," she whispers, soft and gentle. a hand draws lazy circles at stormy's back as she continues. "it got a little chilly. maybe it's because we were in the springs for so long?" despite the chill, there's a warmth between them that doesn't fade like the warm water had.

and then, fingers lace together and stormy's leading her outside. illeana's in too much of a daze to offer anything more than a giggle and a bright smile, charcoal eyes leaving her friend's face to settle on their intertwined hands. it looks so perfect, so natural, that she squeezes her hand to make sure it's all real and not a dream. overhead, the stars slowly begin to shine brighter and the moon has descended into the sky. any lingering hints of daylight fade into darkness and beneath the swirling starry night, two women venture into the unknown.

the pace is difficult at first for her wobbly legs to handle. she stumbles a few times, laughing and hurrying to catch up, but they find an even rhythm in the end. a slower pace overtakes them as the town fades at their backs and grass quiets their footfalls until they're in the open and it's just them and the glittering of stars. her eyes drift up toward the sky, tracing constellations and committing them to memory. she wants to remember everything about tonight, even if the wine threatens to erase most of it. the unknown doesn't seem as scary with stormy at her side and the beautiful backdrop of stars above. and as her eyes drift away from the night sky, away from stars and constellations and planets, they settle on stormy and there's only one thought in her mind: she's beautiful.

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She absolutely can feel the quickness of her heart but she mistakes it as her own. It beats erratically against the confines of her chest as she nestles her cheek into the hollow of Illeana's shoulder. The woman radiates warmth and it seems to fuel her, strengthen her.[break][break]

The heat in her belly spreads to her fingertips as intense emotion gives way to her secret strength. She seems to focus on it, drawing at that power to warm both of them with her skin. Stormy is immediately rejuvenated, skin unnaturally warm.[break][break]

Fingertips press soft shapes into her back and it causes goosebumps to spread across her skin once again, but this time it brings a different meaning. Her breathing is soft and rapid, her head spinning. Illeana tugs emotions out of her that she can't wrap her head around or is, perhaps, too afraid to. [break][break]

They break apart and Stormy is torn by the loss of connection, holding fast to her hand even if she couldn't continue embracing her.[break][break]

Like two newborn fawns they stumble into the world, searching for meaning. Stormy can feel the grass thicken underneath as the gravel path gives way to earth and lush grass. The moon opens peeks behind clouds as they part. The sun dips below the horizon and the orange sky lingers a moment longer.[break][break]

She feels her fingers squeeze between Illie's and she squeezes back - but it's clear that she didn't know the intent behind Illie's. Her own gesture is one of reassurance, as if she assumed her friend was scared to go wandering into the dark.[break][break]

And then the sun says farewell and the night is dark and starry. Tiny lights twinkle overhead and the remaining light is replaced by the cold light of the moon. It's beautiful.[break][break]

Stormy pauses in her trek to catch her breath, free hand still grasping the full bottle of wine and her glass, though she has no idea how. In the mess of bodies and uneven footing and determination they had arrived unscathed and unspilled, miraculously.[break][break]

As Illie stares up into the sky to count the stars, Stormy finds herself watching her do it. In the soft light she realises how beautiful she is, now more than ever. It had always been there, of course, there was no doubt. Illeana Reyes was captivating and extraordinary, she had known that from the beginning.[break][break]

But here, under the light of the sky with her fingers wrapped up in hers, the smell of wine and chocolate on their breath and nothing to hold her back, she could see it. She was beautiful.[break][break]

Their eyes meet again and Stormy involuntarily blushes, unsure what to do or what to say. The desire to be impulsive rises to the surface for a moment and she almost takes it, almost steps forward to lay claim to those confusing desires that she couldn't understand. But some degree of fear pulls her back from the brink, fear that she's misreading her intentions and her feelings, fear that she's overstepping a boundary that had been left unsaid.[break][break]

"You are beautiful, Illeana."

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[attr="class","illie b"]two hearts connecting beneath the stars, the beats mirroring each other as they seek something foreign, something new and unknown. she wants to cling, wants to hold stormy firmly to her and never let go. and yet, she can't overstep, can't force this relationship to bend to her own selfishness until it breaks. she won't, she can't, not again. and so, instead of pulling her closer, pulling her back to press further and further until she's no longer sure where she ends and stormy begins, she accepts the loss of warmth as it comes.

they stay connected by intertwined fingers, by desperate hands clutching at one another as if the other is a lifeline and they're drowning. her hand has never felt so warm in another and perhaps it's the heat that radiates from stormy's touch or the warmth of alcohol dulling her other senses but there's something about fire that has her drifting closer. her shoulder brushes against stormy's as the pace slows and they stumble together. she's careful to not press too close, to not take her friend down with her if she should tumble. instead, she tries to focus, as difficult as that is with her company, on making it to their destination in one piece and no twigs in her hair.

try as she might, she can't ignore the pull of their hands and her eyes drift toward the connection. the squeeze is reassuring but perhaps not for the reasons stormy had intended. this is real, this is happening, and she's not going anywhere. it's comforting, terrifying, exhilarating all at once and illeana doesn't know where to go from here. will this end when the sun rises again? will they never be in this moment again? it'll fade as the alcohol does and perhaps awkwardness will settle in its place but god, she hopes nothing will be ruined. a gnawing in her stomach tells her otherwise but she doesn't want to listen, doesn't want to indulge. no, she simply wants to stay here with stormy as long as she can, as long as stormy will let her. ah, but with staying comes the temptation of crossing that invisible line neither of them want to acknowledge and that, in itself, terrifies her more than any nightmare.

she doesn't notice stormy's eyes on her at first, doesn't feel the sensation of her skin crawling beneath the weight of a gaze. no, why would she? it isn't unwelcome, isn't enough to invoke that prickling sensation. instead, it almost feels as if another wave of warmth washes over her despite the chill clinging in the air and she's content, at ease, home.

beneath the stars, with stormy's hand in hers, she could call this everything she's ever wanted. and perhaps, just perhaps, she'd be right.

and then, their eyes meet and her lips are curling, half soft, half flirtatious and she doesn't know what she's doing. she doesn't know how to navigate this like she does the stars. she's never been faced with the sun and the ocean grows closer with each flap of wax wings, with each loving gaze toward the heat of the sun. "no," she murmurs, firm despite the wobbly feeling of her body. "you are, stormy. you're beautiful and kind and incredible." it comes out so matter-of-fact, as if she's firing off concrete findings like the sky is blue, the ocean is vast, and stormy silph is quite possibly the prettiest woman she's ever laid eyes on.

a giggle escapes her after a moment and once it fades into the wind, a content sigh takes its place. "lavaridge is so soothing at night," she whispers. her eyes drift up toward the sky again, tracing constellations lazily. she knows them like the back of her hand by now, sleepless nights spent beneath the cover of a starry night until she could see them as clearly as ever with shut eyes. perhaps after tonight, her body will even remember stormy's touch as clearly. or, maybe the wine will erase the affectionate touches, the lingering sensation of lips at the back of her hand fading with the fuzziness. she hopes not but... she can't cross the line to confirm that it'll stay.

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It doesn't occur to Stormy that she might not remember this because she lives in the moment - she always has. She sees the present, yearns for the future, but does her best to not dwell on the past. The past brings heartache and pain. But she's here, right now, in the present and holding onto Illie as if her life depends on it.[break][break]

And perhaps it does because she's falling apart, she can feel it. She feels like sand falling between her friend's fingers, like she's slipping. It terrifies her but still she holds fast because the alcohol makes her breathless, warm, confident. She's putting on a facade and denying what it is she's really feeling because she's afraid of the truth.[break][break]

She's afraid to fail.[break][break]

But she already has, countless times.[break][break]

Stormy is breathless once again as they come to a halt, lost in Illeana's subtle beauty and fascinated by it. Her breath is stolen by her words, by the flirtatious intent behind her smile, behind the way her hand feels in hers. It's overwhelming and she's both afraid to embrace it and afraid to let it go because she's selfish. She's lonely. She's afraid.[break][break]

The woman goes to step forward then, captivated by her pretty words because it's what she wants to hear. But her feet betray her and she collides with the woman, the grass slick beneath her sandals and she's falling, falling, falling.[break][break]

With a gasp, she finds herself lost in the grass and lost in Illeana's embrace and she's nervously laughing but there's a note of worry because she hadn't meant to fall.[break][break]

"I-I'm so sorry, are you hurt?"

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[attr="class","illie b"]it doesn't occur to her that they share similar feelings, sentiments practically mirroring each other. one clings to the other as the other clings back and a cycle circles between them. cling to the comfort, to the safety, to the feeling of falling and the ground rushing up to swallow you whole. it's exciting and terrifying and neither of them quite understand. they blame it on the alcohol, blame it on the atmosphere settling around them. but it's not that simple, not that easily defined, and it feels like coming home and being greeted by demons in the corners of your room. she's lost in the sensations, in the possibilities. the what ifs have always driven her to extremes and perhaps this will prove to be no different.

will she continue to cling and claw at stormy's presence until she fills the hollowness in her own chest? will she hold her to this fantasy in her mind, this longing of someone completing her? is that even fair to do?

their hands are so warm, so loving, and her thoughts are a mess of possibilities, of different outcomes stemming from this one scenario in time. if she shifts a little closer, what would happen? if she gives in to temptation, to the serpent whispering in her ear, will their relationship be doomed? her mind is a maze of fog and fuzziness, of headlights lost in the mist, and she can't even begin to understand the flutter in her chest that rises with just a glance in stormy's direction. what does it mean? will it fade or will it stay? her hand grips stormy's a little tighter as if she'll slip away if she doesn't.

and then, stormy's stepping toward her and her lips are parting, eyelids half dropping, and she's expecting something that she shouldn't be. the expectation slams into a halt as stormy stumbles and she's rushing forward as if her drunken body is enough to support both of them. it isn't and together, they both collide with the ground beneath them. they're a mess of limbs and hair in the grass when the world stops spinning, when illeana's vision comes back from the impact. her eyes are blinking, trying to understand, trying to focus enough to comprehend how the situation has shifted.

ah, but stormy's on top of her and it feels as though all of the blood in her veins floods into the skin of her cheeks. a soft gasp escapes as her arms shift slightly around stormy. in the fall, she had pulled her closer, pulled her into her own body, and landed firmly on her back with her friend sprawled out all over her. and it's so much stormy, so much beauty all at once, that she's practically short circuiting now. her heart hammers against her chest, against stormy's, and she's struggling to not give away how flustered she is. it comes out in a soft bout of giggles, awkward and girlish. "no, i'm okay," she whispers, charcoal seeking crimson, seeking something she can't distinguish with the haze of wine clouding her judgement. "are you? you're not hurt, right?"

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There's a serpent in Stormy's ear as well and it's that whispering voice that tempts her to move closer, to swallow the fear in her belly and embrace the drunken curiosity. But that curiosity in turns causes her to stumble and fall and suddenly two women lay in the grass as a mess of hair and skin and undeclared affection.[break][break]

Her heart thumps loudly in her chest as she's pulled closer, as Illie's protective embrace ensures that she isn't harmed. Grass sticks in her hair and she has a smudge of dirt on her face but she's otherwise fine. The bottle rolls away and disappears in the dark but she abandons it because there's something much more important in her arms.[break][break]

Strands of hair fall in front of her face and she tucks it hastily behind one ear, blinking away the dazed expression she carries as a lazy smile remains aloof on her lips. She chuckles, embarrassed that this had just happened and she had just made a fool of herself.[break][break]

But then she focuses, albeit blurrily thanks to the influence of alcohol, on the deep blush on her friends face and she gasps, lips parted. [break][break]

And then all of a sudden Stormy's response changes from one to intense affection that bordered on inappropriate to some degree of grief as she leans back and thinks about the innocent question Illeana had asked. [break][break]

"Physically, yes. But emotionally? I-I don't know."

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[attr="class","illieicon"]

[attr="class","illie b"]her hands drift away from stormy's back subconsciously, seeking something she can't put a finger on. she's warm and light and there's a few tufts of grass in her hair. a soft giggle escapes as her hands pick them away, eyes hazy and unfocused as she tries to put all of her attention into making sure the woman on top of her is okay. besides the grass and a smudge of dirt, she seems unharmed. as for illeana, her body might have some unexplained bruises in the morning but she'll chalk them up to drunken clumsiness and move along.

and then, her body is tensing slightly as stormy's gasp brings her back to the situation. is something wrong? are there injuries she can't see? worry plants itself in her chest and she's unable to stop the way her hands still in her hair. did she ruin something? is there no going back from this?

stormy leans back, away from her, and the warmth edges away enough for illeana to feel the chill in the air. the beginning of her words eases the worry a little but by the end of the sentence, she's searching for understanding, for some way to fix it. "what do you mean?" she whispers, slowly rising to rest on her elbows. the grass at her back is damp but she doesn't care. all she's concerned about is stormy. one of the hands in her hair drifts and her fingers brush across the dirt on her cheek, rubbing until the dark mark is but a memory. "what's wrong?"

she's hesitant to ask, to pry, but she's worried and maybe it's selfish but with that worry comes the need to know that she didn't ruin them. "i'm sorry," she murmurs, eyes darting away after a moment. "you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

[attr="class","kheader"]

[attr="class","kthread"][attr="class","league"]

Stormy feels the girl pull blades of grass from her hair and it's soothing, like she's being groomed and comforted. She leans into the touch but the alcohol is making her emotional and she's about to crumble in Illeana's arms.[break][break]

When she gasps the woman's hands still in her hair, sliding to her cheek to brush away the dirt and she can't help but press her cheek against her hand. She leans into the touch because she's afraid Illie might pull away and she can't handle that right now. Her heart is hurting and right now Illie is the only one holding her together.[break][break]

She asks questions, shows genuine concern and Stormy feels the familiar lump grow in her throat and she feels like she can't breathe. Illeana apologizes and Stormy raises a hand hastily to her cheek, hoping to hold the woman against her skin a moment longer, afraid she might pull away.[break][break]

"No, no. I want to. I do. I'm just--"[break][break]

Her voice begins to break as she struggles to focus her thoughts because at this point she's crying without putting a reason to it. She uses her free hand to wipe away tears as she catches her breath.[break][break]

"I just needed this, I needed you. But the truth is, you're helping distract me and that isn't fair. I shouldn't be using you like this, I-I.."

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