The two could not stop yelling, Bunny swift on her feet darting across the room, keeping her distance from Henri. As they fought they overturned furniture, diving at each other, pushing an end table out of the way, knocking over a desk, getting shoved into a bookshelf. It was loud, chaotic. It was surprising that no one really woke up. No one besides Rikki, who could hardly sleep already.
Bunny cried, shouting meaningless insults to the girl in front of her—fingers pinching the bridge of her nose, glasses slightly pushed up, dark short hair slightly tousled. “Don’t touch me,” she shrieked as she waved Henri, who had only taken one step forward, away. “Get away from me!” Books were swept from desk to floor, Henri’s voice rose higher, somewhat strained but nonetheless aggravated.
Wood cracked as Henri got her hands on the blonde, pushing her back against the bookshelf swearing—an unusual thing from her—to the girl in front of her who squirmed against the wood, eyes wide and lips gasping in shock from Henri’s strength as she was shoved against the shelf. Cheeks glossy and red from crying as they argued.
After a moment, as if suddenly actually realizing what she had done, Henri quickly took her hands off of Bunny, backing away, her eyes wider than normal, showing more emotion than normal. Turning around and walking away from Bunny—whom sank to the floor into a ball, sobbing—Henri took a moment, an attempt to collect herself. But when she turned her head to see the other stumbling to collapse onto the bed, heavy and hot tears still slipping from her eyes, something in her lurched, twisted, grew hot and made her nauseous.
She stood there listening to Bunny’s sobs and gasps for air, despising that peculiar twist, the confining feeling that she wasn’t used to. Eventually, she made quick work out of the room, eyes catching on the leak of light onto the floor—Rikki’s room, she was awake. Footsteps down the hall, a knock on the door, “Goodness,” she said as she was welcomed into the room, the brunette was wide eyed. But Henri didn’t bother really looking at her, instead her gaze scattered around the room.
“I’m glad you’re awake, I saw your light.” “Jesus, what the hell happened?” As she was questioned she harshly pushed hair behind her ears. “What do you suppose?—” Knot in her stomach, “I don’t know, really. I must have done something to set her off, though for the life of me I don’t know what,” blur in her vision. “I was reading in my room, and she came in and wanted a dictionary. In fact, she asked me to look something up, and—” Headache coming on—if she could get the medication now, maybe she’d be okay. “—You wouldn’t happen to have an aspirin, would you?”
Finally looking Rikki in the eye, she needed medication, preferably right now. With hurried movements the girl walked to a nightstand, digging through some Abernathy relative belongings, yet having no luck finding anything that may be of help. “I don’t see any. What happened?” A question she’d really rather not answer, especially not honestly. “I don’t know anymore—Sorry to bother, I’ve got aspirin in my own room, not sure why I asked anyway.” She asked because she knew Bunny was in there, half conscious, tears that singed her stomach like acid slipping down her face, tears stuck in her lashes.
Of course Henri could ask her to go and fetch the pill bottle from her room, avoid going back in there and let the blonde cool down on her own. But she was reluctant to submerge Rikki into the mess between them, she didn’t need to know what was going on behind the scenes, she hadn’t figured much out—as Henri had presumed at least; she voiced nothing out of the ordinary—and Henri would like it to stay that way. Additionally, the room was torn up from the pathetic brawl and Bunny was most definitely still awake, she could faintly hear the sniffles and coughs, poor girl crying so much she’s unable to breathe. “Thank you,” she murmurs, turning around and walking out of the room.
Finding herself walking back down the hall, eyes glancing to the side rail, looking down to the open layout of the country house, a romantic home, even with the old wood and quaint rugs, Abernathy heirlooms in cases on the ground floor, family members in frames. She brings her eyes back to the floor, intently staring at the light on the floor coming from her room, the yellow glow. Now standing still in front of it and lifting her head to see Bunny, blonde hair partially frizzy and scattered on the bed, covering the side of her face which she was unable to bury into the covers and hide with her arms, almost like a child.
With hesitant, infrequent steps, she crossed the threshold into the room, promptly noticed by Bunny, whom rips her head up from the quilt duvet. “Henri?” Voice weak and airy, guilty and almost disheartened. Making soft steps as she closes the door to the bedroom. “I’m just getting my aspirin, then I’ll leave, Bunny.” Henri avoids another hostile situation, trying to deflate anything that may quickly arise again.
But Bunny gasps, thrashing herself, “No! No!” Upon the outburst the steady pace in Henri’s chest is altered, unprepared for Bunny’s unpredictable actions. Watching as the girl rushes to get up to her feet, her glasses crooked, skin blotched with a crimson, trails running down her face that glisten in the lamp light, her tears. Too quick and unsteady on her feet she lets herself go half limp, sinking harshly to her knees, beginning to cry again. Feeling stuck Henri takes a breath in as she watches Bunny slowly, tauntingly, crawl—hands and knees dragging against the wood floor.
Almost in a desperate sense, getting to Henri’s feet and gazing up at her, crumpling her face as her hands grab and yank at the fabric of Henri’s pants. Wrapping her arms around her legs, forcing her to stay. Bunny presses her forehead to the knee in front of her, crying, lips parted and quivering. She looks back up to the face above her, possibly the most emotion she’s ever seen Henri show. Shifting to her knees in front of the girl, she gently presses the front of her face into Henri’s waist, nose against the belt she wore, while still staring up to her. “Please. I’ll be good. I’ll be good…”
She’d never seen anything like this. Of course Bunny was always drastic and loud with her actions, especially when upset—especially when arguing with her; but nothing like this, desperate and whining, an uncanny feeling pricking her skin, the back of her thighs—though that was really Bunny’s nails digging in through the fabric of her pants, clutching onto her as though the girl standing was life support. Looking up at her, essentially innocent like. Henri’s own jaw trembles but she’s not sure why, biting her cheeks to try and stop the insistent and uncontrollable action.
Suddenly rushing to her feet, leaping up, Bunny grabs Henri, shoving her back as she shoved her lips onto Henri’s. A desperate and panicked kiss. Given no time to react Henri takes a quick step stumbling backwards, hands seizing Bunny’s waist, fingers digging into her as if she might aperate away. Surprisingly, Henri kisses back, more forcefully, taking bigger strides forward and leading Bunny to take small stumbling steps backwards. “Kiss me,” she gasps as she pulls away from Henri. “Bun—” Henri groans. “Kiss me.” Again, without any doubt pulling at her she pushes forward into Bunny.