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 Posted: Wed Dec 21, 2016 8:26 am
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Posted: Sun Dec 25, 2016 7:12 pm
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Posted: Sat Dec 31, 2016 9:59 pm
Solo (Word Count: 510) She felt a soft buzz in the satchel resting against her side and Priscilla glanced down at the pink sequined bag. Excusing herself from the conversation (he was a rather dull stranger, anyhow), she made her way towards an empty gap on the otherwise busy rooftop. Setting down her champagne glass on the flat surface of the neighboring balcony edge, her hand slipped into the opening of her purse and pulled out her cellphone. The iPhone blinked in the top corner, signaling someone was trying to grab her attention through text.
She gave the chipped fingernail polish on her index finger a disgusted look before sliding the phone's screen open, her thumb pushing gently against the New Message icon. The number was out of state, but not unfamiliar - especially when it came to the conversations she'd been having over the past month. Text from Thomas Do you need anything, Priscilla? Text to Thomas I'm fine. Corbin Paypal'd me earlier this week Text from Thomas Just checking. Amy says hello and Happy New Years. Catch up w/ u soon.
A flash of black and pink crossed her memory as her grip tightened around the stem of the glass. Scratch that, there were two men she'd wanted to hear from, but cell reception in the void of the Negaverse was probably as abysmal as her chances of hearing from her General.
All around her, the chatter of the partygoers filled the air with excitement and cheer. She'd decided to attend on a whim, to cheer up an otherwise dreary week, but the laughter and lighthearted fun was lost on her otherwise grim expression. The dress she'd picked out was flattering, regardless of the fact it had been worn not once, but twice before - not that any of the strangers cared.
Sighing, she abandoned the now empty glass on the cement balcony and twisted around. The soft click of black heels were lost among the cheers and screams of the people counting down the end of a year and the beginning of a fresh, new start. As the numbers went down to one, all eyes were on the ball drop and not the lonely pinkette making a quiet exit through the stairwell.
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Posted: Sat Dec 31, 2016 10:00 pm
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Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2017 7:17 am
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Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2017 2:30 pm
What's gonna be left of the world if you're not in it?
What's gonna be left of the world, oh
Every minute and every hour
I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more
Every stumble and each misfire
I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more
- Good Grief, Bastille
Solo
(Word Count: 1061) She waited until she heard the old Volkswagen pull out from the driveway before she was willing to look away from the window pane on the front door. KittyKat had argued over dropping her back off at Chase's house, but Prissy had insisted. All of her stuff from the night before had been there, she'd told her. She'd catch up with her later that day, she assured her best friend. Not a big deal. Just some stuff to do.
Locking the front door, her fingers trailed from the doorknob to her jacket as she slowly peeled it off. The front room was dark, save for what little light stole its way in through the shaded windows. The silence was almost deafening - maybe she'd invest in one of those speakers that could fill the room up with music.
Yeah, she thought to herself, maybe some Pandora playing through the house might chase some of the ghosts away.
Jacket returned to the coat rack, her hands moved up to straighten her tousled curls as she made her way towards the hallway that led into the bedrooms. In the past, she'd have heard at least the television blaring, angry little black cats bickering with roommates over stolen tuna cans, the warmth and inviting feeling of having a gang of friends, of teammates, filling the rooms and hallways - that now was all gone. The house was no longer a home, but merely a silent building devoid of the things that once cheered her up. And him.
Him.
That was the reason she'd stayed, instead of continuing to live with her father. Not that she really had much for options now, but....
Pushing her door open (why bother keeping it shut when there was no one there to possibly snoop?), she flicked on the overhead lights. A world of pink welcomed her, from the pearl pink ceiling to the flamingo colored carpet. They had laughed, once upon a time, when they were carpet browsing and saw the color's name. She'd settled on it instantly.
Her laptop remained open, the darkened screen still holding the various tabs that she'd lost interest in browsing through. Books and stuffed animals were scattered across the desk and floor - remnants of an earlier tantrum, with little desire to clean up after her mess.
She didn't feel like cleaning. She didn't feel like reading, or TV watching. Or anything, really.
Kicking off her boots and casting them aside with one foot, she began a slow shuffle towards her bed, which remained unmade from only hours earlier. Sleep was the only thing that sounded appealing - maybe she could use a good nap, until Kat wanted to meet up again. Yeah, a nap. That sounded good.
One hand pulled back the comforter, but stilled as one of her many plushies poked its head out from beneath the covers. An awkwardly curved beak poked up at her, black beady eyes staring at nothing as they rested upon a bed of soft, pink fluff.
Gingerly pulling up the stuffed animal flamingo from within the bed, she held the toy to her chest. His soft head was tucked under her chin as she hugged it tightly, thoughts rushing through her mind, despite her struggle to keep them at bay.
Where was he? What was he doing right now? Was he okay?
Would he ever come home?
Taking a deep breath, one knee rose to press against the top of the bed. She paused again, however, as her head turned back towards the open doorway and a forbidden thought reentered her mind.
Still clutching Squawks to her chest, she made her way back out into the hallway, stopping to look both ways out of habit. There would be no worries about running into anyone - not when there was no one there to run in to. Shuffling her way down the hall, she stopped when she'd approached the last door on the left. The same door she'd caught herself looking at, time and time again. For weeks, now, in fact.
Opening the door, she peeked in and flipped on the switch. The fan started automatically, but the blades attached to the ceiling were the only things that made any motion in the room.
She knew she shouldn't be in there, that Kat would chide her and give her disapproving looks if she found out. He might even get upset, if he knew. But Prissy couldn't help it - this was the only way she could feel close to him now.
His room was vastly different in color than her own, but she was used to the scheme by now. She knew what was in his drawers, what was on his dresser. They'd searched through his things before to look for answers, but now she used the opportunity to re-invite memories, the most precious of keepsakes that she could ask for.
Setting Squawks down on top of the bed, she moved to step into the closet. A familiar, white button-up shirt sat on the closest hanger and she reached for it without having to turn on the light. It was the same shirt from their first date, from their first kiss.
Abandoning the hanger, she pulled the shirt around her back and slipped her arms through the sleeves before tugging it around herself. It was too large, but the looseness of the garment was a comfort in itself, allowing her to tug on the edges and wrap herself in the material.
Ushering herself back towards the bed, she once again picked up Squawks as she pulled back the comforter of the unmade bed. Kat would probably have pointed out that the bed had been made on the day of Labyrinthite's disappearance, but Prissy hadn't bothered to make it since the last time she'd snuck into the room.
Burrowing under the sheets, bare feet wiggled around against the cool bedding as she worked on making herself comfortable. It was only as she curled up against the pillow and inhaled his scent, that she allowed herself to cry.
She cried. And she cried. She cried until her cheeks grew flushed, until her eyes grew puffy and swollen. It was only with one final, forlorn sob that she was able to fall asleep, Squawks nestled closely and doing his best to absorb all the wayward tears that the pillow failed to catch.
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Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2017 11:27 pm
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Posted: Wed Jan 11, 2017 7:24 am
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Posted: Wed Jan 11, 2017 9:10 am
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Posted: Wed Jan 11, 2017 6:34 pm
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Posted: Thu Jan 12, 2017 9:06 am
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Posted: Thu Jan 12, 2017 9:23 am
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Posted: Mon Jan 16, 2017 2:11 pm
Solo (WC: 2682) ((Mid-March, 2016))
For being a Saturday, the foot traffic in The Sugar Cube had been surprisingly lighter than expected. This was a relief for people like Prissy, who enjoyed having multiple moments of downtime throughout a shift, although she knew her coworker was rather irritated with the free time available to the both of them.
Had Katrina been on shift with her, she'd have (more or less) allowed Prissy to slack off on their daily chores around the store, or at least fussed at her while she did most of the work herself. But when Danny was working, the pinkette found herself subjected to her mandatory expectations, despite how sweet he was about approaching her with gentle reminders. Sigh. Having a job was turning out to be such work.
Glancing at the silver watch fastened around her wrist, she let out another exaggerated sigh. The morning had dragged itself on ever since she'd arrived at the ungodly hour of six in the morning. The shop opened at seven to allow early birds to get their coffee fix, though Prissy hadn't the faintest idea as to why anyone in the world would voluntarily wake up so early on a weekend morning.
Time had ticked slowly along and it was finally one forty-five, just a quarter of an hour shy of when she could officially hang up her apron and dash out the front door. While she had absolutely no plans (well, aside from finding some late lunch and maybe painting her nails), it was always simply a relief in and of itself to finally be free from the toils and troubles of working in a small cafe.
"I need you to put up the dishes before you leave, Prissy."
Her head slowly turned towards the kitchen doorway, where a tall, sandy-haired blonde was standing, one hand holding the door open. Green eyes gave her one of his looks and Prissy attempted her best pout, although both knew she would eventually get around to the task before she clocked out. Daniel McKay had never actually disciplined his employee, but he definitely had no issue with giving her guilt-inducing looks over forgotten or neglected responsibilities in his store.
Finally, she nodded her head, accepting her fate. He smiled in return, that happy, easy going smile he was best at before the manager disappeared back into the depths of the kitchen, no doubt to assist the weekend baker with their evening batch of dough.
Her body swiveled around, back pressed against the countertop as she stared at her newest adversary: the formidable stacks of dishes waiting for their re-homing on the shelves below. She knew Danny could have put them up himself after bringing them out from the dishwasher. He could have done everything he'd asked of her, that day. Was this what manager delegation was supposed to be like? Subjecting your employees to trivial tasks just because you could? Maybe she should apply for a management position.
Scrunching up her nose, she took a step forward and began with the coffee mugs. With the slow number of customers, there weren't too many dishes to have to put up, but the majority were the mugs. One by one they slid onto the top shelf, face down, arm out for easy grabbing on a moment's notice. The mugs weren't the issue - there might be an occasional clink once in a while - but the plates, ugh. The plates required actual attention so that she wouldn't get caught (and charged) for chipping the breakable dishware. Not to mention the plates were on the bottom shelf - oh the leaning it made her do.
Refusing to allow her knees to touch the ground (no matter how clean Danny kept it), she remained standing as she picked up each plate, one by one, before leaning down to gently place each one in their resting place.
Behind, she could hear the small bell chime as the front door opened. The tiny, melodious sound was usually a happy goodbye as she pushed her way through the glass door, but hearing it at this time of the day meant only one thing: more last minute work for her.
"Just a moment," Prissy called out, refusing to abandon her final chore as there were only five plates left on the countertop. She knew she should at least greet the guest with a smile, but it was their fault for arriving at such an inopportune moment.
"No worries. I can enjoy the view while I wait."
The plate clinked as she set it down on the stack and her brain connected the dots with the stranger's comment, blood rushing to her face instantly. Both hands flew behind her, immediately covering the backside of her pink skirt as she spun around. Who in the world would have the audacity to talk to her like that, when she was busy trying to be a good employee, at that!
"If you think you can get awa-"
Flushed cheeks grew even redder as eyes fell on a familiar looking pink fauxhawk, her words dying in her throat. There, six foot gorgeous, stood none other than a grinning Chase Black. For being a bleak, unfortunate March afternoon, he was still dressed in nice slacks and an equally nice shirt and jacket. He lacked a tie, but the fact that the man took as much time caring for his appearance as much as he did his hairstyle didn't go unnoticed on the young woman.
"Chase."
Golden eyes gleamed with amusement as he returned her greeting with a wolfish grin. "Priscilla."
"What are you doing here?"
It was almost comical looking, seeing a dressed up, suave looking young man standing among the pink and frills that The Sugar Cube had to offer. Surely Just Add Coffee had a more mainstream look to fit in with its owner instead of a quaint little bakery that offered coffee as a bonus.
"I wanted to see where you worked." As if to prove his statement, eyes began to wander around the store, his lanky legs taking a stroll down the length of the counter, passing the display case and pausing to peer into the glass. His hand moved out, finger slowly poising over the shelf of varying cookies. Unlike most customers, he was mindful not to actually touch the glass. "Those look good. I'd like to purchase a dozen - your choice of flavor."
"Don't you have your own coffee shop?"
He simply smiled, rising to stand up straight as he waited patiently at the display case. Her eyebrow rose and she stood and stared at him, curiosity eating at her. Finally, she caved and grabbed the nearby tongs with one hand, her other reaching out for one of the premade boxes. Nudging the case door open from her side, she reached in and pinched several cookies, dropping them unceremoniously atop the paper lace cutout at the bottom of the pastel pink box. Two lemon cookies, two sugar cookies, two peanut butter...
Prissy could feel golden eyes staring at her as she worked, the pressure almost overwhelming as she refused to look up to meet his gaze. Determined to ease her own flustered state, she forced out a small laugh. "Did you come here just to harass me, Mr. Black?"
Two snickerdoodles plopped into the box, followed by the crowning finish of four of the chewiest looking chocolate chip cookies that she could find in the platter.
"I wanted to see you."
She almost dropped her tongs at the comment, her fingers suddenly finding themselves clumsy. Setting aside the utensil, she moved to tuck the lid into the box before adding a nearby sticker to seal the rim. The butterflies in her stomach were fluttering wildly as the flush that had been subsiding in her cheeks came back in full force.
"Me?"
She brought the box to the register, where he met her with an open wallet, smoothly retrieved from a back pocket. He pulled out two twenties without a word as a single nail worked on punching in the order at the register. The total was less than one of the twenties, Prissy sliding it back to him with his additional change.
Picking up the coins and bills with one hand, he casually dropped it all into the large jar by the old fashioned register. Prissy and Kat had colored the front of it with colorful sharpies, hoping the happy little words TIP JAR - much appreciated!! would be a cheerful reminder for passing customers. The sound made a large thunk as it hit the bottom of the nearly empty container.
"You get off soon, don't you?"
So he had read her text message! Prissy had begun to think he was too busy to bother with her, judging by his textual silence over the past few days. Or maybe, she'd even thought bitterly, he'd lost interest in her once they'd discovered each other's alter egos. She nodded her head.
"Would you like a ride?"
It didn't matter that she'd driven to work, that her pink convertible sat comfortably directly in front of the store in plain sight of the cafe's window. Chase probably even knew it was hers, judging by the bubblegum pink color.
It didn't matter.
"Sure, I'd love that."
The white apron came practically flying over her head as she worked to rip it off, wrinkling the fabric into an untidy ball before she shoved it beneath the register. Next to the helpless ball of former apron, she grabbed her purse and made her way around the counter and into the cafe. Usually in heels, her work flats lacked the sound she loved (she could listen to the clicks all day, honestly), so she leaned back over the counter to call out to her manager.
"Byeeeeeeeee Danny - I'm gone!"
She didn't wait for a response - or a reprimand for leaving just a smidge early. Grabbing hold of the young man's arm, she tugged him forward only to release him moments later as she moved to snatch her fluffy pink and white jacket from off the rack by the door. This allowed him time to hold the door open, a chilly breeze whooshing its way into the warm cafe. Stepping outside, she allowed him to open the car door for her before slipping into his sleek, equally suave vehicle. It didn't matter that she was lower to the ground than she normally was in her own car, it didn't matter that the cold leather seats sent a chill up her spine as the fabric touched the back of her naked legs.
Snuggling into the passenger seat, she politely accepted the box of cookies he'd handed her before entering the car himself. She had a sneaky suspicion that he'd been sly when telling her to pack a box of her favorite cookies before offering to chauffeur her around. One finger slipped under the sticker she'd sealed the box with, ripping it in half as she opened the lid.
Turning the keys into the ignition, he put the car in reverse and glanced backwards as he began to pull out. It was only as she bit into the warm, scrumptious chocolate chip cookie that his eyes fell onto the pink haired girl quietly munching on cookies beside him. Clearly amused, he said nothing as he drove out of the parking lot and into the empty streets of Destiny City.
One leg crossed over the other as she slid towards her side, growing more bold and comfortable in her current position within the car. The cookie polished off, she licked the smudge of chocolate from off her fingertip before turning her smile in his direction. He'd been driving in nearly a polar opposite direction than her Daddy's house - or his house, for that matter - so curiosity was once again eating at her. "So where exactly are we headed?"
Eyes briefly left the road to meet hers, the smile still firm across his lips. "We're going to meet my mother."
Suddenly, the butterflies in her stomach returned and it was not the warm, fuzzy feeling that she'd been experiencing before.
"Your mother?" The words managed to squeak out of her mouth, the panic obvious in her expression. "You're taking me to meet your mother?"
His attention had returned to the road, hands gently turning the wheel to drag the car into the adjacent lane. "Well, I was on my way to pay her a visit and I got the idea to bring you along. She's eager to meet the girl I've been telling her about from my Valentine's date." His grin grew wider, though he didn't look in her direction as he added, "Figured I'd bring her some cookies too."
She choked on the chocolate chip dust still in her mouth. "You let me start eating on cookies you bought for your mother?!"
He laughed, the sound managing to be both attractive and irritating at the same time. Her hands flew to the box, fingers doing their best to piece together the ripped sticker. "It's not funny, Chase!!"
"Sorry, sorry. I'll tell her I was hungry, okay?" he offered, the mirth lingering in his face as he offered his suggestion.
Appeased with his sacrifice over her error, she moved on to the next subject troubling her: meeting her almost-boyfriend's mother without having time to prepare first. "So she doesn't even know I'm coming? Do I look okay?"
She glanced down at the outfit she'd thrown on for work, a basic white blouse to go with her pleated pink skirt and plain flats. Overall, definitely not the clothes she would have picked out to wear at such an important meeting. She'd read enough books and seen enough movies on television - mothers were very protective of their sons. It was also clear from her conversations with Chase that she was equally as important to him, so Prissy knew that her first impression simply had to be amazing.
Boring blouses and simple skirts did not equal amazing.
The car came to a stop as they approached a red light, allowing the driver another moment to look at the young woman. "You know, I think you're even more adorable when you get flustered."
Glaring, her fists curled up around the edges of her skirts. "I am not flustered. I am just concerned, okay?"
She was totally flustered.
"Don't be."
Leaning over, warm lips brushed against the side of her cheek, creating a sudden warmth in the car that Prissy almost found suffocating. For such a casual act, fireworks still managed to flood her mind as she worked on trying to focus her attention to the road ahead of her.
The light turned green and the car resumed its route, the passenger inside now as equally pink in her face as her own hair color.
"It'll be fine, you'll see. I know she'll love you."
Fumbling with her blouse, she did her best to straighten up any wayward wrinkles she kept catching out of the corner of her eye. Throwing down the overhead mirror, she worked on fluffing her curls up until the point the car pulled into the driveway of a very quaint, beautiful little home. Her fingers lingered on the mirror before slowly tucking it back up, her heart beating wildly in her chest as she took a deep breath.
Following after the well dressed young man, Prissy made sure to double-check the toes of her shoes for any possible dirt or grime as they made their way up the walkway to the front of the house.
Glancing down at the cookies in her hands, she looked up at Chase and gave him one more distraught look as the coffee shop owner pressed his finger against the doorbell.
"It'll be fine, Prissy." One arm wrapped itself around her waist and she leaned into him, finding support and comfort in his presence.
As the doorknob jiggled, she took one final deep breath and, as the door opened wide, she stretched her mouth out into the biggest smile she could possibly manage.
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Posted: Mon Jan 16, 2017 2:23 pm
Solo (WC: 1679) ((Early May, 2016))
The door swung open and the pink haired girl came tumbling in, a blur of white, pink and an ominous shade of red. Her arm was cradled against her chest and she clumsily bumped into the nearby coat rack, sending it to the ground with a loud crash as she turned around and slammed the door behind her in a hurried, frantic rush.
Yards away at the bar he'd been organizing, Chase Black quickly set his tumbler down as both eyebrows rose.
"What on Earth..."
As he made his way around the bar, Priscilla Stratford was awkwardly struggling to lift the wrack and put it back up with one hand. Swooping in, he took hold of the rack from her and was busy straightening it up as the young woman crumpled to the floor in a sobbing heap.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Her words were ragged, forced out between struggled breaths. Legs were splayed out and he could already see a developing, nasty looking bruise along the side of one of them.
His expression hardened, gaze turning towards the door as he stepped over the sobbing girl to crack it open, looking outside. "Were you followed?"
"N-No, I powered down a few blocks away, but this was the closest place I could g-get to. I'm sorry."
Turning back around, his eyes met sorrowful pink ones, the areas around them puffy from tears. Her lip was cut, fresh and dried blood mingling off the side of her mouth. There were bloodstains streaked on her sleeves, signs that her shoulders and arms had been injured while powered up, the lingering effects of the injuries showing through her civilian clothing.
Kneeling down, his hand moved to gently cradle her cheek. She winced at the touch, golden eyes noting the faint purple color slowly forming across the fair skin by her jaw. "What happened, Prissy?"
She started to talk, but choked on another sob. Her emotions were getting the better of her and she was clearly having a difficult time controlling how upset she'd gotten. He remained quiet, sliding both hands up under her arms as he lifted her up from the ground. No words were exchanged as he helped her down the hallway and it was only as they approached the room she knew to be his bedroom did she hesitate, resisting his guiding arm.
"My supplies are in here," was all he said, one hand moving to twist the doorknob, shoving the door back as he escorted the injured woman inside. Setting her on the bed, he looked her once over before deciding the first course of action.
"You need to clean up, before we start patching things up."
She rubbed against her eyes, a fresh wave of tears falling as she began to mumble her story. He stopped her, though, moving to sit down beside her as he took her hand within his own.
"We can talk after you shower, cupcake. Get clean, calm down. Take a few deep breaths, alright?"
Her mouth closed and she slowly nodded her head in agreement. A shower would feel good, to be able to wash the grime and stains of failure away. He offered to assist, but she was ashamed enough as it was to have appeared on his doorstep in such a disheveled state. He lead her towards the shower in the adjoined bathroom and it was there that she handwaved him away. Only after he presented her with a handful of towels and clothes did he heed her request, closing the door behind her.
The shower felt almost blissful, the hot water scalding her pale skin as she worked at scrubbing away the crusty, dried blood on her arms and face. The bruises were forming, slowly, and as the washcloth brushed against each one she let out a pained noise. Had it not been for the exhaustion that wracked her body, she might have felt shy about being in his personal bathroom, as opposed to the open one meant for guests, down the hall. It didn't matter - only getting clean mattered at the moment, washing away the shame the senshi had left her drowning in.
Toweling off, it wasn't until she was nearly dry that she noticed the clothes he'd brought in for her. It made sense to find his undershirt and a pair of pajama bottoms sitting there, but it made her blush anyways, the thought of wearing someone else's - his - clothing.
The grey undershirt slipped over, a tumble of damp curls bursting out as she tugged her head through the hole. Her arm was still aching - had she broken something? A sprain, maybe? Slipping into the cotton pajama pants was easier, although she had to pull the drawstrings extra tight to ensure the material wouldn't droop down.
Making her way out of the bathroom, eyes met with Chase's as her General in his civilian form stood at the edge of the bed, waiting for her. She took her seat on the edge of the bed and he leaned down, looking up at her. A wrapped pillowcase was in his hand, another two at the floor by his knee.
"Point to where the bruises are." She nodded her head and he did his best to read her tired face. "Are you able to tell me what happened, now?"
One hand motioned towards her side, where the largest bruise dwelled. Gently lifting her shirt up far enough to access it, he pressed the pillowcase against her skin and she felt the cold burst of an ice pack inside the thin material. "I was...by the docks. I figured I might be able to find something, you know, for my quota."
He nodded his head but said nothing as she motioned towards her leg and the bruise he'd noticed earlier. "I didn't even get her name, she just came out of nowhere and jumped me. Senshi of glass or something."
The bitterness was almost tangible in her voice, the hatred pouring out as she described the woman, the only pause being a wince as he wrapped the second pack around her leg, "Some brute little blonde. Brown outfit, had too many tacky bangles around her wrists."
Leave it to Prissy to remember a woman's accessories instead of her name.
"I tried to fight back... I promise I tried."
It was quickly dawning on her that she was confessing one of her largest failures to her own superior officer. This wasn't just Chase, boyfriend extraordinaire, but General Labyrinthite's gaze lay dormant behind those watchful golden eyes.
"Shhhhh, ma petite sucrerie, shhh." Rising from his knees, he moved to pull back the comforter and sheets from the bed, gesturing for her to climb in. Prissy was still nervously biting her lip, but she eventually complied and strained to crawl into the oversized bed as he moved to wrap the third compress against her cradled arm.
Ointment appeared from a pocket, the substance smelled foul and medicine-like, but she let him rub it against her cuts, frowning the entire time. He listened as she went on to describe the senshi that had attacked her, about how she'd attempted to fight back but ultimately was forced to retreat, the senshi of glass being so bold as to mock her escape, telling her to never return to the docks.
With a tired sigh, she drifted off to sleep at the comforting touch of him gently stroking her hair. It wasn't until he was convinced that she'd fully fallen asleep that he rose from the side of the bed, making a quiet exit from the room.
~
She woke up startled, her surroundings initially unfamiliar. It took a few moments for her memory to jog itself, to remember what had happened. That she'd gotten into a physical struggle and had her butt whooped by some witchy little senshi, resulting in Dia running off to her General's home, her tail tucked between her legs.
The shower had been a distant memory, as was being tucked into bed where she'd apparently dozed off, maybe even mid-sentence, while wearing her boyfriend's clothes. Her fingers pulled the sheet up over her mouth as eyes studied the room. It was one thing to be tucked into one of the guest bedrooms of his large abode, but to be tucked into his bed? At least she had enough sense to feel sheepish at the gesture.
She was about to start hunting for her cell phone when a flash of pink caught her attention in her peripheral vision. There, on the nightstand, sat the cutest little stuffed flamingo that Prissy had ever seen. Had it been there before she'd gone to bed? She was fairly certain that she'd have noticed a stuffed animal in Chase's room if she'd seen one, but there was always the chance that she'd been mistaken.
Reaching out, she plucked the bird from its perch and a sudden flash of bronze tumbled onto the pillow beside her. Rising up (with a slight wince at the strain on her arm), she took hold of the bronze, bangle bracelet as groggy eyes studied the jewelry. Those same eyes grew wide as recognition hit her - it was the same tacky bracelet she'd seen on....
....but was it possible? Had he...?
The faint sound of humming in the distance caught her attention next. There was a bit of noise that followed, as if Chase had returned to stocking his bar as he'd been doing before her interruption. This time, however, he seemed a little too happy, the peppy tune in his voice making its way down the hallway as Prissy clutched the bracelet in her palm.
A slow, shy smile spread across her lips as she squeezed the stuffed flamingo - Squawks, as she'd impulsively dubbed him - against her before giving the toy a quick kiss on the beak.
Burying herself back under the covers, she closed her eyes and did her best to ignore the sores tormenting her body, her focus now entirely on just how adorable her boyfriend truly was.
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Posted: Mon Jan 16, 2017 2:24 pm
Solo (WC: 941) ((End of July, 2016))
It had begun like any other typical July evening in the Wolf Pack household.
Kat and James were off doing whatever it is they'd snuck off to do (Prissy only assumed it was finding a private place to make out and be gross). Wolf was off being creepy elsewhere, who knew where Zircon had buzzed off to and Ada, in her whimsical manner, had wandered off in search of star seeds to collect for her General.
Prissy, on the other hand, had determined that the evening was far too hot to do anything of value. So, instead, she lounged across the community shared couch in cut-off shorts and the first spaghetti strap shirt she could find shoved away in one of her dressers. The remote sat in front of her on the coffee table, just barely out of reach, which was unfortunate as the reality show she was watching on TLC had switched over to My 600LB Life and Prissy really didn't care to watch overly large people struggling with losing weight and crying over it.
Sighing, she flipped from her side to her back, staring up at the ceiling as she listened to the obese woman on the television continue to sob about having to work out prior to whatever kind of surgery she was about to undergo. Big whoop.
Eyes were about to close for an impromptu nap when the front door's knob began to rattle as a key slid its way into the lock. Prissy would have sat up to look, if she'd bother caring....but she didn't. So, arms folded behind her head as she closed her eyes, sighing and mentally threatening whichever roomie had arrived home if they dared to be noisy in her presence.
Heavy footsteps made their way into the house, the door closing with a click before the footsteps continued around the front hallway. A package was set down - on the bar counter, maybe? - the paper crinkling as the owner rummaged around within it. Another shuffle of feet and then silence.
Prissy's mouth warped into a frown as she listened for any further noises. No door open, no door closing - where did the person go?
Finally, one eye dared to crack open and the young woman let out a small yelp as a familiar golden gaze stared upside down at her, face inches away from her own.
"Excited to see me, ma petite sucrerie?"
Hands flew up to shove away the grinning man, Prissy finally relinquishing her attempt at napping as she rose from the couch. Eyes fell down and settled on the pink container in his hands, however, and her focus was suddenly entirely his.
"More excited to see that ice cream you've brought with you, handsome."
Fingers moved out and beckoned him forward, but Chase shook his head, making a soft tsk sound as he moved back around the couch, returning to the bar. "I don't recall you going out and buying this strawberry ice cream."
Strawberry? Her naked feet flew onto the carpet as she swung around the side of the couch, following after the ice cream's guardian. He'd passed the bar by this point, making his way back into the hallway that lead towards the collection of bedrooms.
"You're not going to eat that entire pint by yourself!" She called out at him, ducking into the kitchen and making a beeline towards the utensil drawer.
"You're welcome to watch me!"
His voice echoed in the distance and she made a face at nothing in particular, yanking open the drawer as she pulled out two spoons before slamming it shut.
Hurrying her way after the ice cream (and after Chase too, she supposed), she found both stretched out beneath the dark comforter of the homeowner's bed. One hand remained on the hot pink lid of the Baskin Robbins ice cream while the other clicked away at the television remote. Netflix was pulled up on the television directly across from the bed and although it was clear that he knew she was in the doorway, he didn't turn to look at her.
"Come to watch me eat it, then?"
"You wish I'd only watch you eat it. Move over."
With that, she practically jumped on top of the bed, nestling herself against him as fingers moved to pry the ice cream from his hands and then the lid, casting it over to the nightstand.
One arm snaked its way around her waist and tugged her closer. As she dipped her spoon into the light pink, delicious looking confectionery, Prissy felt an equally delicious tingle as warm lips breathed against her skin, fingers pulling back on strands of rose pink hair for better access.
"You at least brought two spoons with you, right?"
"Maybe."
As the lips began to softly press against her neck, she squirmed and finally surrendered the second spoon into his lap before pulling the large, fluffy blanket up over her lap to provide the proper buffer between her skin and the cold ice cream. "Stop. You're just doing that to make me blush."
Drawing back, slender fingers moved down to pick up the spoon. Casually scooping up a pink lump of ice cream and bringing it up to his own lips, he gave her a grin that sent another shiver down her spine. "You have no idea just how many things I could do to make you blush, Sugar Plum."
As a reward, pale cheeks turned crimson and Prissy leaned over to snatch away the remote. "You're a terrible person."
He merely laughed before slipping the spoon in his mouth, settling back down against her as he submitted himself to yet another evening of cuddles and whatever silly series she'd decide on this time.
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