Rieka had been invited several times to spend Christmas at the Potter's house. Despite this, she had always had to decline: the first she had spent with her father, the second and third she had stayed at Hogwarts with the excuse of not having a valid reason to spend it with her family and of not finding anything particularly special about those holidays, with the secret intention of keeping Saiph company, who didn't want to spend Christmas at her own home. The fourth year, the full moon had hindered her plans to go to the Potter's with the rest of the Marauders, for which everyone had offered their help, but she had felt too ashamed to burden Euphemia and Fleamont with such responsibility without their knowledge and to ruin Christmas for everyone else, so, upon their insistence, she had pretended to agree, packed her bags, accompanied the others to the station, and then, at the last moment, she had stayed behind, waving them off with a sad expression. They had never forgiven her for that, and upon their return, they had all, without exception, lashed out at her. The fifth year, there had been no complications that others hadn't also faced, with the H.O.W.L.S. approaching, no one intended to stay home, and even the laziest ones, dragged by their friends, had stayed at Hogwarts.
Now they were in their sixth year, and this time nothing would come between the Marauders' plans for a perfect Christmas, or at least, those were Jackie's words. Words that everyone knew were blinded, not only to the normal Christmas spirit, but also by the incurable romantic air that she now wore on her face as if it were a marble sculpture: ever since a week before the start of the holidays, when Linden had promised her a date, she bounced and trembled like a volcano about to erupt. Not to mention that she had almost accepted to visit them during Christmas: on the evening of the 25th, Linden would take a train and be with them, and Jackie couldn't be happier. She kept talking about it as the best gift she could receive, driving everyone to the brink of despair, starting with Petra, who groaned in agony at every dreamy sigh from Jackie. Saiph, on the other hand, seemed to find no other joy than to encourage her friend's fantasies or, alternatively, to tease her about them, in no way urging her to think about something else. Indeed, she often brought it up herself, with an embarrassing joke and a satisfied smile on her lips. Rieka found herself in a nearly neutral position regarding it: sure, excessive romanticism always made her nose itch, however entertaining it was to witness; she almost saw it as contagious. On the other hand, she wasn't sure they would be able to spend the next Christmas with the same carefree attitude, with the rumors of war increasing and numerous murders of Muggle discrimination reported in the newspaper, so she was determined to enjoy every single second of that teenage and youthful Christmas ahead of them, even with Jackie's exasperating romanticism.
And then, she had her own romantic troubles to worry about. Deep down, she envied Jackie a little, who knew how to take life as it came, with love oozing from every pore and filling her with joy and enthusiasm. For Rieka, romantic feelings were a clear source of anguish and frustration. This didn't help when the object of her romanticism was none other than her best friend. Yeah, what a mess. Rieka realized how ridiculous the situation was when these thoughts intruded into situations like that, at the Potter's house on the couch, when Saiph was literally lying next to her, with her hands behind her head, legs dangling, and a serious expression on her face, her eyes closed, which made Rieka doubt whether she was actually sleeping or just had her eyes closed. Rieka realized she was lingering too much on her friend's face only when Saiph, probably feeling watched, opened one eye and met her gaze.
"What's up?" As if nothing, Rieka turned her attention back to the book she held in her hands, mentally cursing herself as she shrugged.
"Nothing, I was wondering if you were sleeping, but you weren't snoring. Too good to be true."
Saiph sat up with a clear laugh. "I don't snore."
"Yes, you do snore, word of an insomniac, I hear you every night in the dormitory."
"Nah, that must be Petra or Jackie, I sleep like princesses do."
"I didn't know princesses drooled." To that, Rieka received a playful kick which she had to suppress a smile for. It didn't take long, however, for her friend to forget the serious accusations and lean on her shoulder with one arm, looking at her half-grumpily while staring at her intently.
"What are you reading?"
"The Female Eunuch."
"Mhh." Saiph began poking Rieka's cheek with her index finger. "Is it interesting?"
"Yes, actually, I'd like to continue reading."
"That's not true, if you were just staring at me sleeping, it means it's not interesting enough."
"I wasn't staring at you, how egocentric of you." Rieka made an embarrassed grimace, closing the book and turning to sternly look at the other girl, her eyebrows furrowed. In response, Saiph lightly tapped her nose, giving her a 32-tooth smile. She rested her forearm on the couch, making it a pillow for her head as she continued to stare into Rieka's eyes, as if seeking some hidden answer. It was an inquisitive gaze that would send shivers down anyone's spine, the anxiety that takes hold when being the subject of curiosity from someone like Saiph was undoubtedly an experience bordering on surreal.
"Are you excited for tonight?"
Rieka shrugged. "I'm not sure if I'd call myself excited. After all, it's not the first Christmas Eve of my life, I'm just glad to be with you all. Are you excited?"
"Are you kidding? It's Christmas, and we're all together, it's fantastic. It feels like how every Christmas in people's lives should feel, like how all Christmases in my life should have been." Rieka realized how Saiph's grayish eyes sparkled at the mere thought of a happy Christmas, in company, in the safety of what she could afford to call home, and magically Christmas made sense even to her, and she could sense a tenderness that softened her thoughts.
"Why, didn't the years when it was just the two of us feel like Christmas?" These words, which were supposed to be a funny joke, made Saiph a bit more serious instead, raising her head from her forearm and looking at her with slightly parted lips. Rieka began to doubt whether she had said the wrong thing, but she remained still. She couldn't tell what Saiph was thinking at that moment, her expression seemed unreadable, and anything could come out of her mouth: it was an unpleasant feeling, to sit still there on the couch, waiting for a verdict. That's why when Euphemia Potter's voice echoed from the kitchen, calling them, Rieka jumped to her feet and began walking briskly, without looking back.
The evening hadn't taken long to arrive, and with it, the numerous relatives of the Potter family: it was incredible how many aunts and cousins could gather in the same house for a tradition that wasn't entirely part of their culture, but Jackie had explained that they celebrated with the same enthusiasm for Diwali, and for her family, any excuse was a reason to come together and celebrate. Meanwhile, on the upper floor, in the bedrooms, there was a palpable excitement caused by three distinct factors: the first was Jackie, who was admirably contemplating three different outfits, wondering when to wear each one, something she would usually decide within 5 minutes, but had suddenly become complicated at the prospect of seeing Linden the next day; the second factor was Saiph, who was having, as she usually did whenever she got ready, an existential crisis where nothing was right and everything was a disaster; unfortunately, the third factor involved Rieka, but she wasn't directly to blame, because it was Petra who was incredulous at the neglect her friend was showing for her appearance.
Resigned to not being able to help either Jackie or Saiph in their preparation crises, she had no other excuses to escape Petra's clutches. Now, Rieka wouldn't exactly call herself neglected: after all, she had put on her cutest sweater and even tried to tame her curly brown hair, but Petra had insisted she change her jeans for a skirt and a pair of sheer stockings. However, she had refused to give in to wearing any shoes other than her Dr. Martens, categorically refusing to spend the long and exhausting evening in shoes she didn't find comfortable. Petra had also taken it upon herself to give her a minimal makeup and further fix her hair. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she actually found it particularly relaxing for someone to take care of her in that way, it was rare and intimate, and she wouldn't let anyone other than the Marauders do it. Only they knew her so well that they could make her feel safe in such a situation. When Petra was doing her makeup, she didn't bother to hide the scars on Rieka's face, she almost seemed not to notice them, and she wondered who else would have done it in her place. Now she was sitting on the bed with Petra braiding her hair, her tongue slightly sticking out in concentration, while Rieka tried to relax at the light touch of her friend's fingers through her hair with her eyes closed. The tempestuous noises of shoes coming towards them interrupted that moment.
"I need someone to confirm that I'm presentable." Hearing Petra whistle in approval behind her, Rieka opened her eyes, finding herself speechless. Saiph stood in front of her, hands on her hips, encased by a black band separating a wine-red dress with puff sleeves and a square neckline, legs exposed up to the knee, where a tall black leather boot intervened. Her pitch-black hair framed her face beautifully, anyone would wonder how many hours she had spent on it, her eyes were framed by dark eyeshadow that complemented their icy color, and her lips were tinted with a lipstick that matched the dress. As satisfied as Saiph was with Petra's reaction, it was to Rieka that she turned for the final verdict, furrowing her brows when she looked at her without saying a word.
"What's wrong? Too much? Too little? Is it the lipstick, isn't it?"
"No, you're perfect like this." It was an almost automatic response, she hadn't yet recovered from her state of shock when she uttered it. She had to blink a few times blankly as she processed what she had just said and how Saiph's cheeks seemed to flush slightly as she smiled with satisfaction. It was unfairly adorable and the last thing she needed at that moment, so she felt the repellent need to lighten the mood. "I mean, look at me, they had to help me and I still look like I came out of some dusty closet." Saiph looked her up and down, tilting her head slightly to the side and analyzing her calmly. She approached her a few steps until they were face to face. Oh no.
Rieka found herself holding her breath as Saiph's hand reached for her hair carefully, pulling out a few strands from Petra's braid so that they fell on her face in a random manner: less neat than Petra had planned, but more representative.
"There you go, ready to steal everyone's hearts." Rieka didn't have time to bite the inside of her cheek before speaking, because it was stronger than her and because it seemed like Saiph was doing it on purpose.
"Even yours?" In return, she received an amused look and a wink.
"Especially mine."
Oh no.
Their moment was interrupted by Petra, who, still there, couldn't hold back a muted laugh. Saiph didn't have a big reaction, just blinked a couple of times before her amused smile widened further as she clicked her tongue. Rieka, on the other hand, felt decidedly cornered and didn't know whether to punch Saiph for teasing her or to entertain some slightly more dangerous thoughts, with somewhat riskier hopes. At that point, the most plausible solution seemed to be to clear her throat and get up to make sure Jackie wasn't lingering too much and then descend from the upper floor to steal a few glasses of champagne that were supposed to be destined for the older guests.
When she went to find Jackie, she wasn't in her room, nor was she locked in the bathroom. Had she gone down to her relatives without waiting? As unlikely as it was, maybe Euphemia needed a hand with the food or the preparations, so with a deep breath, she decided to go down the stairs and head downstairs. That's how she found herself surrounded by a string of relatives already talking among themselves, looking at her slightly strangely: she, in return, offered small nods of greeting, but didn't dare to present herself without her friend's presence, unless they stopped her themselves.
When she finally managed to find Jackie, she had never wanted to strangle her more: she was in a corner of the house attached to the landline phone her parents had given her years ago to communicate with some of her friends. If her mother had seen her, she would have given her an endless scolding. In fact, if it hadn't been evident from how the girl was playing with the phone cord and how she was smiling like a child who had just received a bag of candies, that on the other end of the phone was Linden, Rieka would never have understood what her friend could consider so important to hide from her relatives. Irritated by Jackie and her stupid almost happy relationship, Rieka took the phone from her hands and ignored any protests.
"Weren't you supposed to spend Christmas Eve with your family?"
"Uh. Hi, Rieka, I was just—" hearing Linden's embarrassment made her even more annoyed.
"I know what you were doing, you two are disgusting."
"And here I thought Christmas made everyone nicer."
"First, you're a hypocrite and I won't articulate that thought for your sake and for Jackie's sake, secondly, I'm an exception, thank you very much."
"I think all I’m hearing here is that you’re jealous, my friend."
With a huff, she had to restrain herself from ending the call right then. "You and Jackie will literally see each other tomorrow night, can't you survive a couple of hours without hearing from her?" Meanwhile, next to her, Jackie tugged on her sweater protesting about how she wouldn't have survived either. "Goodbye."
"Merry Christmas to you too."
It was the last thing Linden managed to say before the phone was hung up on him, and Jackie began to whimper beside her friend.
"I didn't even say goodbye, you're so mean, Moony."
"Sure, sure, whatever you say." She found herself stomping back annoyed towards the living room with all the Potter family relatives, and felt her heart tighten seeing Saiph laughing cheerfully with one of Jackie's cousins, a glass of champagne in hand and the gleaming look of someone enjoying themselves.
"I think all I’m hearing here is that you’re jealous, my friend."
Well, fuck off to them all.
Saiph flopped onto the bed with a sigh, still dressed and made up. In her life, she had ingested many different types of alcohol on many different occasions, but nothing induced the same kind of drowsiness as two glasses of champagne. She couldn't explain it; it was just different from other drinks, perhaps because it tasted like parties, with that lingering effervescent aftertaste. She made a tired noise and stretched wearily. The only thing that caught her attention was the door opening because the light hit her directly in the eyes. When she managed to focus, she realized it was Rieka, trying to sneak in. Theoretically, she was supposed to be with Petra in the guest room, while Saiph slept in Jackie's room, but in the end, somehow they all ended up in the same room. Who wouldn't take advantage of having a big pajama party every night of the Christmas holidays?
In reality, they all slept in the same room for 10 months every year, but that was not important. It wasn't the same thing. Anyway, Jackie was still downstairs helping Euphemia, and the two apparently needed to have a chat. Saiph was sure it had to do with the sharp comment she had made about her friend and Linden getting "busy." Euphemia's face directed at her daughter seemed straight out of some thrilling comedy, and despite her attempts to reassure her that she was just joking, she had the feeling that Jackie was in for a lecture. Petra, on the other hand, had gone up first and had already changed into her pajamas and fallen asleep, taking possession of the sleeping bag and one of Jackie's blankets. This left Saiph and Rieka the only awake people in the room. Saiph raised her arms theatrically in the air. "My guardian angel, you're finally here." There was no response, but instead she heard footsteps approaching and a silent giggle echoing in the room.
At that point, Saiph decided that between the champagne and the fatigue, she had plenty of excuses to be impulsive. Not that she wasn't already impulsive almost all the time, but sometimes she needed an extra excuse for this side of her to come out properly, for her wide mouth to have the right excuse to give vent to her sudden ideas and her unhealthy rush to make things happen. That's why now Saiph pretended not to think, as she turned onto her stomach on the mattress, showing her back to Rieka and burying her still made-up face in the pillow. "Can you help me take off the dress?" As she said it, she silently prayed that the tension in her voice wouldn't be noticeable.
"What?"
"The dress. It has buttons at the back, can you help me?"
There were seconds of deafening silence where Saiph was convinced that Rieka had left, pretending, probably for her own good, not to have heard anything. That would somehow be the smartest option for everyone, there was no doubt. Instead, Saiph felt a cold, incredibly gentle hand hovering over the fabric of her dress. She tried to stay still, as if any movement could scare Rieka away, but she remained alert, immobilized in place. Slowly, she felt all the buttons being undone, one by one, and an imperceptible shiver ran from her spine to her stomach. She tried to convince herself that it was all a strange dream, driven by her strange, stupid fantasies. So she closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation as if she could ignore the consequences, just as she enjoyed Rieka's moment of weakness, who perhaps believed she was asleep, and let her hand linger on the sliver of bare back revealed by the open buttons. It was a cold hand, but comforting, still despite the barely perceptible tremor of the breath accompanying its movement. It didn't do anything daring, nothing particularly suspicious, just a stroke on the pale skin, the fingers marked by the grip of the pen almost seemed to count the moles on her skin. It was innocent and therefore dangerous; Saiph would have preferred any daring remark about the situation, a touch more eloquent than one filled with shared secrets she couldn't decipher.
When Saiph slowly opened her eyes again, that touch seemed distant, and in return, she was met with a pair of hazel eyes scrutinizing her carefully: they studied her attentively, as if trying to understand if she was conscious, and Saiph noticed with bitterness how much fatigue lay behind them, perhaps even a bit of resignation, silent doubt that made her wonder if Rieka hated her a little. It was a strange thought that caught her throat and prevented her from saying anything else, but it urged her to grab Rieka's hand when she, sighing, moved to leave.
"Saiph-"
"Can I undo your braid?"
"Shouldn't you finish changing?"
"I can do that later." She sat up on the mattress, continuing to look at Rieka, hoping she would relent. "I don't even feel like it, I can just change directly tomorrow."
"Then why did you ask me to unbutton your dress?"
Saiph replied a bit too quickly to this, as if the excuse was implanted in her brain. "It was uncomfortable. But I want to return the favor."
The girl in front of her didn't seem so convinced by her words: she saw her frown and look down at the floor, as if she were weighing what to do, as if she could think of 100 thousand reasons to say no, which left Saiph with an indescribable sense of anguish. The feeling didn't leave her even when, after a moment that seemed endless, the other closed her eyes and sat on the mattress, her shoulders stiff and her face steadfastly facing forward.
Besides a whispered thank you, Saiph, contrary to the general opinion about her, knew when to keep quiet. Often she didn't, anyway, because she didn't care or didn't feel like it or couldn't, but in this case, it was different. She gently ran her hands through Rieka's still-intact braid with a sigh. As she slowly removed the elastic and began to unravel it, it felt like she was putting her hands in wool: it was a nice feeling, soft curls trapped in the braid slowly coming back to life. Despite her slow movements, the moment still seemed to end in the blink of an eye. And at that point, she had nothing to lose and a hundred excuses to use when her hands returned to the brunette girl's hair, stroking it calmly, delicately, from root to tip, as if nothing was happening. It was then that Rieka's shoulders relaxed almost completely, and Saiph was able to breathe a sigh of relief. She wanted to say something, anything that wouldn't break the intimate silence of the room, but it still seemed out of place. So she approached almost stealthily and placed a delicate kiss on the curly hair, trying not to dwell too much on the fact that she couldn't see Rieka's expression, who, no matter how one wanted to see it, didn't pull away at the contact. Saiph felt her body tremble with the different possibilities of action that lay before her, wondering what would be appropriate to do.
She didn't have time to evaluate many, it was enough for her to move her hand slightly towards Rieka's arm, for her to wake up, as if she was burned, and to stand up suddenly. Now standing in front of her, the girl looked at her, her chest rising and falling almost as if she was running, her curls loose on her shoulders, hazel eyes pointed against her. In the darkness, it was impossible to see, but Saiph knew well that if she stared at them in the sun, she would have found the shades of green moss.
"What's wrong?" She had to pretend as if nothing was happening, she had to behave as if everything was normal, as if there was nothing more. If she denied what was happening, she wouldn't have to question what this meant. Rieka's gaze was still on her, searching for answers, almost hurt. She dropped her shoulders, tucking her hair behind her ears, looking elsewhere and torturing her lower lip as she did when she was nervous. "Nothing."
There were a few seconds of silence before Rieka looked around with a mad expression and grabbed her pajamas from the pile of clothes in a corner of the room. "I'm going to change."
"Do you need a hand?" It was supposed to be a joke to make her smile and ease the tension, but she didn't. As whispered and imperceptible as it was, the silence of the room preserved the "fuck you" that Rieka directed at her like a cruel echo.
╚══════════════════╝
Rieka had decided that the best way not to dwell on the previous night was to indulge in the cheap alcohol they had secretly procured for Linden's arrival. He had arrived around 6 p.m., after they had already opened the presents and stuffed themselves at the lunch organized by the Potter family. Jackie had insisted they go pick him up at the station, she had dolled herself up, perhaps excessively, abandoning her trusty jeans and tying her hair up in a neat ponytail. Saiph had teased her the whole time, Petra had kept her company, trying to repress as much as possible the annoyed glances that occasionally took over her expression, and Rieka was too busy ignoring a pair of icy eyes that often darted in her direction to provide any kind of support. Despite this, Linden's expression had been priceless, so no one complained after his arrival, even though Rieka herself noticed way before then how Linden looked at Jackie like that even when he still considered her superficial and troublesome : the world simply hadn’t been ready to accept this information, her friend foremost, so she decided to leave him alone.
Now, Rieka wasn't sure how they had managed to procure two bottles of rum, because as much as Jackie and Saiph had claimed it was a kind gift from Jackie's cousin, their faces were twisted with a guilty smirk, and Rieka didn't know how reliable their words were. Nor did she want to think about it after Jackie had credited her friend's incredible charm while tousling her black hair. If she had stopped to try to figure out what she meant, she probably would have lost her mind. What mattered was that there was something to drink and that they found themselves in the treehouse built in the grove near the Potter house. Calling it such was an understatement: it was adorned with pillows and posters hanging on the walls, a stereo, and accommodated all five of them without much trouble, bottles included. Now Rieka had lost count of how much she had ingested, she felt grumpy and annoyed that drinking wasn't helping her while everyone around her was having fun, Linden with his arms around Jackie, who smiled like a child, Saiph and Petra singing loudly along with the radio, and she, in the corner with a frown. She was just pathetic.
When "Father Christmas" started playing on the radio, Saiph downed a shot and turned to Jackie, looking for her hand so they could sing together. Her friend laughed and accepted, getting up to join her and Petra. That's when Linden approached Rieka's ear so that only she could hear him.
"What's wrong?"
"Mind your own fucking business."
"Strong words from you." Rieka turned to glare at him, but it didn't last long, because Linden was genuinely happy and he looked at her with the shiniest emerald eyes on this earth, so she gave in, huffing and taking another sip of rum. "I'm genuinely worried, you should have fun with us."
"I'm having fun, I'm just less exuberant."
“Hmm." Linden looked at her as if she were a liar, but he didn't say anything, instead he took her arm and made her do a twirl. "Are you too unexuberant to dance too?"
There was a tone of challenge, almost mockery in the question, which made Rieka furrow her eyebrows. Linden couldn't dance, of that she was sure because she had already seen it, and she wasn't any better, but if that's how things were, she would make sure to embarrass him as much as possible.
"Start the dance, I'll consider whether to join you, otherwise I'm staying right here." And Linden, poor guy, probably because he had had a few too many drinks, blinked, shrugged his shoulders, and positioned himself in the center of the room, dragging her by the hands before starting the most disjointed and uncoordinated movements imaginable. Even Jackie stopped to look at him in shock before Rieka followed suit, only because she didn't want him to be left alone in that embarrassing scene. With the radio playing and the girls singing amidst giggles, Linden and Rieka danced the ugliest twist of the century, one with a contorted face from concentration and the other from stubbornness. Now, how anyone could find someone attractive facing such a scene was very incomprehensible to Rieka, which is why she stopped dead in her tracks when Jackie, still laughing and singing, took Linden's face and planted a kiss on his lips. Now, since Jackie had never expressed herself about it and there were no secrets among the Marauders, and given the fiery red color that spread across Linden's pale cheeks, one could surely talk about a first kiss, which everyone took a bit of time to process, Jackie first, because everyone, except for the voice coming from the radio, stopped.
What got everyone back on track was Saiph's victorious howl as she grabbed Petra by the shoulders and started shaking her like a maraca, hopping up and down with a 32-tooth smile that made even Jackie giggle in embarrassment. She took command of the situation after letting go of Petra, turning up the volume of the radio and giving Jackie a little push towards Linden and doing a playful spin around the treehouse. Rieka kept an eye on her as she took Petra by the hand and dragged her to dance with them, while she stood rooted in place with her eyes wide open, trying to process everything. When she met Saiph's gaze, she smiled as if they hadn't been ignoring each other all day, and she felt something in her chest struggling to come out, trapped between her ribs until it tangled her lungs. She saw the bottle of rum and thought she needed a push. If Linden could do it, why couldn't she? Okay, it was a more intricate situation, but until the previous year, the lovebirds would call each other nerds and stupid geese as if they were at war, and yet there they were. She could at least try. She took the bottle and took a long sip, closing her eyes at the impact of the liquid against her throat before pulling it away from her mouth and starting to sing along with the radio.
She approached Petra and Saiph and stood between them, wrapping her arms around both their necks as she swayed from side to side singing. As much as Petra might have been worried about her condition, the scene was so absurd that it made her laugh anyway and accept the situation, while Saiph laughed and tried to take the bottle from her hands. "What's wrong, don't you want to give it to me?" Rieka shook her head, laughing, before bringing the bottle up. "Open your mouth."
She found a shocked look on her face, accompanied by a noticeable blush, perhaps accentuated by alcohol, but Rieka liked to think she deserved credit for it. "What?"
"To drink," she simply said, shrugging, slipping her arms away from her shoulder and Petra's to look at her better with a raised eyebrow. "What were you thinking?"
To this, Saiph didn't respond, but snatched the bottle from her hands and ingested a significant amount of liquid, which made Rieka chuckle.
It wasPetra the one who ended up retrieving the bottle, complaining that her friend was finishing it alone and walked away as if afraid it would be stolen again. Saiph, on the other hand, glanced back at Rieka, responding to her amused look with a glare that reeked of vengeance, a look Rieka knew well but couldn't take seriously at that moment, partly because the sense of danger was dulled by the circulating alcohol, and partly because she kept thinking about the embarrassed expression Saiph had directed at her just a few seconds earlier. And, in response to this lack of reaction to her threatening demeanor, she shamelessly approached Rieka until they were nose to nose, still wearing her scowl.
Rieka decided to continue seeming completely impassive to the situation, raising her eyebrows. "And now?"
"Why are you dancing with Linden and not with me?"
"Uh?"
"I always ask you to dance, and you always refuse me. Not Linden. Why?"
This caught her off guard to the point where she couldn't come up with a timely response that didn't involve acknowledging how beautiful Saiph actually was when she danced, unlike herself, and how she would probably make a terrible fool of herself, especially since Saiph would distract her more than necessary, because in response to her silence, Saiph's hand ended up intertwining with hers, pulling her to dance with her.
At first, Rieka didn't move until Saiph, realizing that she wouldn't join her without encouragement, huffed and started dancing with her. Rieka’s head was spinning and didn't register much of how many songs they danced to or in what manner. She didn't even remember if they had talked; she only remembered the sensation of dancing with Saiph, poorly and in a not so coordinated manner, but with her. She wished she had drunk less so she could remember the details, like how Saiph approached her, whether she put her hands on her neck or hips, whether they looked intensely at each other or playfully, but none of this was recorded in her mind, except for the pungent smell of rum, tobacco, and cloves. What perfume did she use? Rieka should have known, but she didn't remember. Saiph smelled just like Saiph, and that was way more than enough.
The spell was interrupted at an unspecified moment when Saiph looked away and then resumed looking at Rieka, and she thought of telling her.
Tell her, tell her, tell her.
Instead, Saiph was pulling away from her. Why? Someone had called her, but Rieka felt as if she hadn't completed what she needed to do. What it was exactly, she didn't even know, but when Saiph's hands slowly slipped away from her, she felt a lump in her throat.
Tell her, tell her, tell her.
Nothing. Nothing came out of her mouth, not a sigh, a syllable, her name, nothing. She remained there, dumbfounded, watching her walk away. And it was then that an inexplicable, unspeakable, indescribable rage built up in her, directed at no one but herself, because she couldn't speak, express herself, or explain, but was constantly blocked by a lump in her throat that made her feel nauseous. Maybe it was also the alcohol's fault, but she didn't care much. The treehouse had strangely become claustrophobic, and she had started to feel her hands tremble with the need to do something, anything, to get away from there.
And so she did, when Saiph moved away, it only took a few minutes for her to attempt to descend the stairs of the house, the pack of cigarettes stolen from the table in one hand and the lighter in the other, while cursing herself. Once down, the sun had already set, and she leaned against the trunk of a tree, trying to light a cigarette with trembling hands. She cursed them too. It was all so stupid, her, her hands, her brain, her crush on Saiph, Saiph, Linden, and Jackie, and even Petra, just to not make her feel excluded. She hated them all. She exhaled slowly and had to bring a hand to her cheek to quickly wipe away the tear that was rolling down her face because it made no sense to cry over such a stupid thing. There were bigger problems in life, and she had faced much greater things, as she would face even more serious ones in the future. Her crush wasn't that important.
But the problem wasn't her crush, it was her, who was stupid, who couldn't speak and stumbled and ruined things, who embarrassed herself for nothing and put up barriers she didn't even want to put up, and it was so draining to feel so much annoyance for oneself that nervousness filled her eyes with tears. What had been a solitary salty furrow on her face had turned into one of those senseless cries that you can't hold back, without sobs and without effort, just eyes too weak to keep the tear inside. After a few drags, she made a frustrated sound, pulling the cigarette away from her mouth and covering her face with her hands. She felt like an idiot.
Yet it didn't take long for a hand to try to free her face. When she found herself facing Saiph, she had to refrain from making another frustrated sound as she tried to ignore her concerned gaze and wiped away her tears.
"Why are you crying?" The girl looked away, sniffing.
"Don't worry, it's the rum's fault."
"That's not true, you've been like this all day. Did I do something wrong?" Rieka found herself targeted by two desperate gray eyes that made her heart ache, and she felt like she was about to burst into tears again.
"No, Padfoot, it's not—"
"Yes, it is. Listen, I'm sorry about last night. It was... it was the champagne, we can just forget about it. Or talk about it, whatever you want. I'm also sorry about earlier if I was pushy and bothered you, I don't know what's gotten into me, and it's not fair for me to put you in these uncomfortable positions, I know, I'm sorry, it's not fun, but I—" As she spoke, Rieka watched her gesture and tremble almost frantically, the reason behind it entirely absurd, because she wasn't the problem. It was her that was behaving strangely and absurdly. Then she saw it in her eyes and prayed she hadn't misinterpreted the wave of panic and guilt enveloping the girl in front of her as she ran her hands through her pitch-black hair and babbled aimlessly. She prayed she had interpreted correctly because otherwise, she would have ruined everything and wouldn't know how to explain herself. She prayed for a positive outcome as she let the cigarette fall to the ground, took Saiph's face in her hands, still babbling between her palms, and hastily pressed their lips together.
It didn't last long because in that gesture, Rieka encapsulated all her courage. She immediately pulled back, not giving Saiph time to react, waiting for a verdict: the sensation was akin to awaiting a guillotine sentence, because Rieka felt her heart in her throat pulsating as if it begged to escape and spare itself the torture, her stomach completely upside down, and her eyes burning. Saiph remained staring at her as if unsure what to do, mouth half-open and gaze lost, which did nothing to reassure her friend, who began to torture her lower lip as if she could tear away the skin. Then she took a few steps toward her, and Rieka had to do her best not to run away and remain perfectly still. The sense of relief that followed when she was pulled down by the collar until their lips met again felt indescribable. Before responding to the kiss, she let out a sigh of relief. Rieka took her by the hips and drew her closer as Saiph clung to her sweater as if her life depended on it, hands clenched in the fabric. Who knows how long they had been searching for each other with subtle longing, amidst unspoken words and too many sighs. Thinking about it, the girl chuckled against the other girl's lips.
"What?" But Rieka shook her head before a stupid doubt insinuated itself into her mind, making her swallow. She leaned against Saiph's clear forehead, looking down.
"You're not just doing this because of the alcohol, are you? Or out of curiosity? You're not making fun of me?" To which she received a scoffing laugh, almost annoyed. "Is this what you think of me?" Her face was enclosed between the hands of the girl who forced her to look at her. "If it were up to me, this would have happened ages ago, I don't think I'll regret it anytime soon. I assure you."
"Mh. Should we... say something to the others?" A kiss on the forehead.
"I'd say we should talk first, maybe when we don't smell like a liquor store." To that, Rieka laughed, nodding.
"Right. Should we go back up to them then?"
"Do you think they'll miss us if we come back early and take over the room?" It was a stupid question, a risky proposition, but Rieka couldn't help but smile and think that among all the options in her head, this wasn't even a remote possibility of how things could have gone, but she was grateful that it was going this way.
"Nah, they can survive."