Imagine Julia getting jealous that you're spending time with Angie
“Where were you?” Julia, ever the alky soul, was pouring herself a glass of whiskey when you walked in the room, finally home after a day out.
“I was just hanging out with Angie.” You said as you took off your coat.
At this, she paused for a moment, open bottle in her hand whilst her glass lay only half full, for once not as a result of her drinking.
“Angie?” She resumed pouring. “So you two have nicknames for each other now.”
The tone of her voice was more coarse than usual, and you turned to look at her. “Is there… something wrong with that?” You asked.
“Oh no, no.” She capped up the bottle with a sigh, turning to lean back on the table. She wouldn’t look at you. “It’s cute, really. That you have names for each other. I mean, I’ve never heard you call me Julie. Or Jules.” She took a sip of her drink.
“I-”
“The two of you spend a lot of time together.” She interrupted. “Wouldn’t Elizabeth be upset? Fraternizing with her sworn enemy and all that.” She said everything with that slow lazy drawl of hers, but you could hear a sour tone underneath it. Venomous, almost. At first it didn’t make sense, but then it clicked. The bitterness in her voice was envy.
“Why are you so jealous?”
This finally caused her to look at you. A quick startled half glance followed by another, longer one.
“I’m not.”
“It sure seems like it.”
“Are you psycho-analyzing the psychiatrist?”
“It doesn’t take a doctor to see green eyes staring over the rim of that glass.”
She pointedly set the drink down on the table, fixing you with a glare. “Well since we’re so intuitive today, why don’t you tell me why it is that I’m so jealous.”
“I don’t know! Why would you be jealous at me hanging out with a friend?”
“A friend.” She repeated in a mocking voice. “Like I’m supposed to believe that’s all she is to you.”
Like the final piece of a puzzle fitting into place, it all became clear to you. Julia watched the look of realization wash over your face, and made for the door. She shouldn’t have been so careless, she didn’t want to hear what you would say. Surely, she thought, it would only be a spurn. Harsh words about how could she think she has the right to be jealous, how foolish it was for her to see you that way and how she could never compare to Angelique. She was surprised when your hand clamped down over her wrist, stopping her from leaving. She slowly turned back to look at you.
“Please spare me the speech.” She said in a small voice.
“Should I spare you the kiss too?”
Her gaze jerked up to meet yours, surprise shining in her eyes. Her lips parted to say something but you were already leaning closer, and after a split second of indecisiveness she had her hand in your hair, eagerly pulling you all the way in. A soft moan escaped her as your lips crashed together, and you pulled her closer, determined to show her she’d never have to be jealous again.