Throw the Dice High
“Switzerland first.” Asterin interrupted, cutting off whatever the hell Sorrel was about to say.
“We need Cassius on board first.” Sorrel calmly replied, her face a calm mask that hadn’t cracked despite the fact that it was 11 pm on a Tuesday and she, Manon, and Asterin had been going in circles for hours. Elide sat on the couch, ready to make Abraxos slobber on someone if the three stooges didn’t figure their shit out in the next fifteen minutes.
“Switzerland.” Grabbing Manon’s beer, Asterin downed the rest of it in one go. “It’s our only bargaining chip. Without those papers, we have no fucking guarantee grandad will do anything other than express his deepest apologies and then send Manon on her merry way.”
“And right now, he has no idea we have the papers. We tell him, we risk losing them. We lose them, we’re so fucked it might actually be funny.”
Letting out a stressed exhale, Asterin reached for her vape pen and – “Ow! Fucking Christ Manon, did you just throw a bottle cap at my head?!”
“Give me the pen.” Manon held out her hand. “That habit’s fucking disgusting.”
“What are you, my mother?”
“We raised each other, so yeah.”
“Go screw yourself in hell.”
“You know, Lin has seen you vaping. She’s thinking of starting. You might want to talk to her about that.”
“Fuck.” Asterin threw the pen at Manon and didn’t really seem to care if it hit her. “I broke the habit, alright? Petrah stopped having sex with me until I did – and don’t laugh, that shit worked. It’s just this weekend was fucking trigging. That bitch murdered her own baby and she dared to blame me for a miscarriage. Seven months. I was seven months pregnant when …” Eyes falling shut, Asterin rubbed at the nape of her neck, the tiny tattoo of two footprints. “Ella would be six now, you know. She’d be starting kindergarten. Four feet tall. Pigtails. I always wanted to learn how to do her hair.” Asterin shoved away from the kitchen counter and walked towards the door. “I need air. I’ll be back.”
“Let her go.” Manon touched Sorrel’s arm, stilling the other woman as the apartment door fell shut. “She just needs space. She’ll call Petrah.”
“Fuck.” Sorrel massaged her temples, head bowed under the weight of something heavier than gravity. “Please tell me you have something stronger than beer.”
“I’ll get the whiskey.”
Sorrel downed two shots without blinking. She shoved the glass to Manon for a refill. “We need Cassius first.”
“I agree.”
“You going to say that when she comes back in?”
“We’re tabling this discussion for tonight.”
“Manon, we need to – ”
“It’s done for tonight.” And Sorrel knew better than to argue with that tone.
“Fine. I’ll head home and see you at work tomorrow. Can’t wait to play happy family with the baby killer.”
“You just had three and a half shots of whiskey in the last five minutes. You’re not going anywhere. Stay in the guest room.”
“I’ll take an Uber dumbass.”
“Guest room. Go. Don’t make me break your phone.”
“Bitch.” But Sorrel said it fondly. “Isn’t Asterin sleeping there?”
Manon just looked to the door. “Rin won’t be sleeping tonight.”
+
At 6 am, Elide woke up at an empty bed.
At 6:03 am, she found Manon and Asterin curled together on the couch. Eyes closed. Breath steady. Quiet.
It was a nice morning to take Abraxos on a walk, to pick up chocolate croissants and coffee, to watch the ocean breakers and ache for all the battering rams smashed through too many lives. It was a nice morning to let a few tears fall free.
At 6:32 am, she carded a hand through Manon’s hair. “Love, it’s time to wake up. You’re going to be late for work.”
“I’m calling in sick.” Manon grumbled in reply. “Sorry, you’re about to get blamed for a UTI.”
“I can live with that. There’s croissants and coffee on the counter. I love you.”
Still half-asleep, Manon grabbed for her hand and pressed a long kiss to the inside of her wrist. “Love you more.”
+
On Wednesday night, the three stooges tried again. This time no one needed the whiskey, so that’s a bonus.
Half-watching Game of Thrones, half-listening to the discussion/argument/seventh circle of actual hell, Elide finally snapped, “For the love of god. You guys have been attempting to settle this for nearly four hours. The amount of fucks I can no longer give is truly astounding. Manon – go talk to Cassius first. Asterin – please call him so he actually answers. Sorrel – if you’re going to gloat, please do it somewhere that I don’t have to witness the consequences.” Then Elide shoved her earbuds back in and appreciated Jon Snow’s ass and let the children sort themselves out.
+
They sorted themselves out.
+
On Friday night, Manon walked up the steps of a private jet, ready to face the longest fucking flight of her fucking life.
18 hours. No stops. No hesitating. Throw the dice high, Caesar called as he crossed the Rubicon, throw them high. Miami. Sri Lanka. The edge of the world and clean over it. To whatever end.
Nodding politely to the flight attendant, Manon dropped her backpack and settled into a seat, letting her eyes fall shut. Her fingers twitched when they touched the last place Elide had kissed her, right there, on her cheek.
They’d gotten to eat dinner together. Twenty-two minutes, one episode of Say Yes to the Dress, but Sorrel bought Manon that much time between the hell and high water.
Curled on the couch in their apartment, feet propped in Manon’s lap, Elide stole another one of her fries. Manon swatted at her calf in retaliation. “Eat your own damn food.”
“Your’s tastes better.” Snagging another fry, Elide pointed it at the TV and said, “See? That dress isn’t even ugly. It’s too boring to be ugly. God save us from the reign of lace mermaids.”
“I think you’d look very pretty in a lace mermaid.” Manon shot back, grinning.
“Shit head.” Elide muttered. “Give me a fry.” And Manon did, because Manon was freaking whipped. “Hey, do you remember that day you got wasted on mimosas at Asterin’s party?”
“… yes?”
“Because we definitely ended up watching Say Yes to the Dress. And you were definitely talking about how you wanted to marry me. Was that just drunk Manon, or was it sober Manon finally getting her head unstuck from her ass?” Elide grinned like she already knew the answer (because she was pretty absolutely goddamned certain that she did).
“Umm.” Manon ran her hands through her hair. “The second. Definitely the second.” She glanced up at Elide, a little nervous of her welcome, goddamned trying anyway.
“Good.”
“Good?”
“Good.” Elide leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, stealing the rest of the fries. “I wear a size 7 ring.” Manon didn’t even try to take the fries back.
“Ms. Blackbeak?”
“Hmm?” Manon flicked her eyes open, gratefully taking the glass of tonic water the fight attendant handed her.
“We’ll be taking off in two minutes. Will you be needing anything else before then?”
“No. Thank you.”
Settling back in her seat, Manon pulled out her phone and propped her feet – combat boots and all – on the table. (She knew it was bad manners) (She knew her grandmother would be infuriated to see her do it) (She took excessive pleasure in doing it)
+
[Asterin]
Manon: about to take off
When I get back, we need to go ring shopping.
Asterin: about fucking time