[ The girl laughs and Alexa feels something inside break a little, like, it's such a fucking nice laughter, not pretentious or shrill or exaggerated, it's just a natural understatement of mood. Really nice. Without commenting on how Stacy fixes herself up in the privacy behind her own hand, she instead follows the sound of heels against the floor as they head back - the sound of a true femme, isn't it, that sharp clicking - and ends up at the counter once more where she drops her stuff on the tabletop. All the cheap silver catches the overhead lamps in glimpses of stark white.
As Stacy starts rummaging through the drawers beneath the counter, Alexa wonders what kind of idiot she'd be to walk out now, like, shit. Actually, rather than heading for the street, she watches the other girl in silence while she digs through all the crap that accumulates in a store specialising in selling crap and wonders when it would be a good time to ask if she'd like Alexa's phone number written on her pretty, delicate wrist. Before or after she's purchased her Glitter stash? Who the fuck knows.
Since waiting patiently has never been one of Alexa's many, varied virtues, she starts moving a bit restlessly from foot to foot and then says, finally, to break the suspense, in order to punctuate the quiet and drown out the muted rustling of paper and plastic: ]
[ Done, she wants to say, but then her fingers slip across something hard and sharp, metallic. She smiles and pulls it up. It's covered in a plastic wrapping still, a make-shift protective casing she stole from some other thingamabob, she can't remember which. Straightening up, she lays it on the counter, not too far away from the small pile of ear studs Alexa's chosen. She notes somewhat distantly that they all look a bit cheap and wonders what something highly simple, yet highly expensive would look like in one of Alexa's many ear piercings. Well, not that it's any of her business. She just wonders. Harmless, okay? Harmless. ]
It's alright if you hate it! [ She looks up at the other girl carefully, keeping her smile light. Unassuming. ] It was part of the intro sale, you know, and, well, you didn't come by - [ Those few words simply stumble out, almost staccato-fast ] - so I saved one. Just, just in case.
[ She unwraps it quickly. It's a black tiara but nothing like the ones you'd normally find in this shop. She'd ordered just a few of them; too expensive for the shop and not enough customer appeal, generally speaking. Pushing it towards the other girl, she looks up, feeling her cheeks redden slightly now. Great. ]
It's - I already bought it and I don't want it. But I figured I'd at least ask.
[ It just slips out, automatically. Noticing the blush in Stancy's cheeks, though, she shuts herself up before she can say anything else about the tiara that honestly looks like a misplaced prop from the set of "Lord of the Rings".
Well, you didn't come by - it almost makes her wince. She honestly should have apologized for that already, why the fuck hasn't she? Mom would complain that she's raised Alexa better than that, but they'd both know she hasn't raised Alexa at all, yeah? Expression growing harder, she just stares from the headpiece to the girl who's unwrapped it like it's the fucking crown jewels. In all honesty (and she is always if nothing else perfectly honest), it's so damn fugly, but at the same time there's something about it that attracts her. Like, fucking hell, imagine her sporting such a thing one day at Rosebud? They'd get something else to talk about for once. So, she swallows down her scorn and reaches out to pick it up, balancing the crazy punk tiara on her palm and shoving its ugliness in her own face.
Shit's the right word. ]
This will be a love-hate relationship, you've been warned, but I'll take it along with the rest. [ A brief pause before she adds, her voice softer, not really soft, just softer, okay. ] Thanks for thinking of me. Sorry I've been keeping you waiting.
[ She blinks. Shit, says Alexa, and that's probably a good sign that she hates it. She's about to pack it away again - quickly, before she... sees it... more? - but then, she actually reaches for it, picks it up. Balances it on her palm and for the first time, Stacy notices how long her fingers seem, probably because they're also rather on the thin side. For a second - a treacherous, treacherous second - she envisions the two of them in her room. Sees herself paint one of those short finger nails whichever colour someone like Alexa would prefer, it's hard to tell, and right now she probably shouldn't test her luck.
Sorry I've been keeping you waiting. It's okay, she thinks. It's okay if you promise you won't do so anymore.
What she says, however, is: ]
No problem.
[ She hits up the cash register. Puts in a few numbers, watches as it spits out a total, a small sum of Euroes, though she realises she's got no clue whether or not it's a small sum for her. Whether she's rich or poor, where she lives, what she likes to eat, how she goes to sleep at night. She doesn't know but she'd kind of like to.
Ugh. ]
The jewelry's on the house. Seeing as you aren't getting any credit, right? It's actually pretty rude of me.
[ No problem, Stacy says and Alexa doesn't touch upon the issue further, why the fuck should she when the other girl sweeps it so easily aside and she can't for the fucking life of her tell whether it's courtesy or her actual feelings on the matter. Though, she's pretty sure it's courtesy, Stacy seems the well-mannered type unlike certain others she knows. Fuck.
While the girl hits up the cash register, she watches her with the sort of intent that's allowed when someone juggles numbers that'll go out your wallet. Her hair has a nice fall to it, all curls and sunshine. She's equally round-faced and fresh-faced, though there's nothing really naive about her, she just seems the bright-spirited type by nature. Who the fuck knew those kinds of people even existed in this grim world anymore?
Alexa herself had forgotten. Long ago.
Then, Stacy tells her the purchase is on the house and who's she to turn such an offer down? Now she might even get that ale at Rosebud tomorrow night, that's great, right? Except, she has no idea why she's never seen the other girl at the club, because the vibes are strong with this one and yet, throughout the last five years when she has frequented Rosebud, Stacy's never been. She'd like to see her on the dance floor, to be honest.
Blinking, she clears her throat again and manages a halfway polite: ]
No, it's fine. Thanks. [ An uncomfortable moment of hesitation. Finally, Alexa decides to fuck it all up, if that's what'll happen, who can even tell. But it's her style. ] Hey, do you want my phone number? That way you can keep tabs on me. Make sure I don't let another couple of months pass.
[ She packs up the items, one at a time. The pink paper rustles between her fingers as she furrows her brow in slight concentration. She's done it a million times already but for some reason, today she wants to make sure. That it's okay, that it's... She sighs. Tapes up the first few bundles, reaches for a pair of ear studs that she can't believe anyone would wear, it's got to be a gift for somebody... If it isn't, she'll make Alexa wear that crown for an entire day at some point.
The thought brings her pause. Fingers running on habit, packing and taping up, she looks up slowly. Do you want my phone number, she asks, and Stacy realises that she's been imagining the two of them meeting up again - and again - before the offer was ever on the table. God, she's so spoiled. God. With a small smile, unable to keep the slight tremor out of her voice, she replies: ]
Sure, I'd like that. [ She swallows. Packs up the last bits, reaching for a bag without asking whether she wants one or not, filling it automatically with a few free samples, some goodie cards. ] You can have mine too! I have a card...
[ Refusing to consider how incredibly awkward it is for someone to have their own, personal calling card without actually having a job function worth calling, she pulls out a pretty, white business card. It's lined with a row of nail polishes on the top, her name, address and phone number printed below in gold letters. Smiling sheepishly, like, I know, I know, it's tacky, she just drops it into the bag. There. Done. Then, she waits. Expectantly. ]
[ The calling card that Stacy presents her with is the girliest shit she's ever seen - seriously, there's nail polish on it - but in the cutest possible way, really and she doesn't question why a Glitter sales girl even has a calling card in the first place, because who cares, they're exchanging numbers and everything's good, everything's fine. Tempering her smile into something at least halfway hard and edgy, Alexa waits for the bag to be fully loaded, then she reaches for the black pen lying next to all the pink paper, picking it up before carefully leaning in to grab hold of the other girl's arm, pinning it gently to the tabletop as she writes her number across the faint lines of veins and the palpable beating of her pulse point. Her phone number is a lucky one, simple, full of 5s and it takes her only, like, two seconds to finish tattooing it onto Stacy's skin. Her creamy, soft skin.
Well. Okay. Shit.
Alexa straightens up, putting the pen back in its place and adopts a self-satisfied expression that hopefully masks how she feels a bit like running now. Away. This is intense, for fuck's sake. This holds potential to hurt. Swallowing something thick in her throat, she cocks her head and looks from her phone number in black on Stacy's lower arm to Stacy's face. Text me before you wash it off, she kinda wants to say, but doesn't. ]
I like funny texts, so shoot me one of those, yeah?
[ For a second, she's confused by how the other girl suddenly leans closer, across the counter. Her breath catches in her throat, when Alexa's long fingers lock around her arm near the wrist. The next many seconds, the only sounds between them (and around them, really, it's got to be the same everywhere in the world) narrow down to the wet sound of the pen, running circles and lines across her skin and their breathing, her own quickening. She stares at the numbers without really seeing them, realising that she's... drawn her number on her. Like, just. Bam.
She can't look up. Her cheeks are reddening to the point where she's got to be as red as anything, as the small heart pendant down on the wall, hanging so precariously close to the dagger. Its natural counter-part. God, this is crazy. Crazy shit, she'd say, and though her Mum would disapprove of her language, she's certain that Alexa wouldn't, that it might just be how she'd put it, too.
The thought gives her enough strength to look up, finally. Meeting Alexa's eyes, an odd expression on her face, like she's going James Dean on her if James Dean found himself surrounded by Martians. Cool fish. Cool fish but out of water in a way, somehow.
It's pretty cute. ]
I'm more the type for random texts, like, this is my nail polish right now, or this funny animal ate my breakfast? [ She tucks her arm out of the way, wanting to simultaneously hide it behind her back and stare at it for hours. ] But I'll try.
[ It's time to go, Alexa can tell, it's really time to go and with some effort, she manages to grab the bag that Stacy has loaded with gifts (as well as her number on fucking nail polish-decked paper) and step away from the counter, turning halfway to the side, making it obvious that she's heading onwards. Out. The street is calling or some shit... She feels like she needs the biggest fucking coffee they can give her at Starbucks. She feels simultaneously like crap and thin air. Without being religious or anything, Heaven's still a close call here, there's a straight line to Hell from that place, yeah? ]
Take care, Stacy.
[ It's said in a loud voice over one shoulder while she flees the mostly pink-pastel-paradise of this damn Glitter store. Stacy's name is light and bubbly on her tongue, a bit like the girl herself and there's a moment where Alexa wonders what she'll taste like, beyond the usual, the ordinary. There's always a certain degree of personality in a girl's taste, her scent, how she feels beneath your fingers.
For now, she's seen enough uniqueness in person to last her a good while, so the question can remain where it is, at the back of her mind, unanswered and uncared for. Alexa exits the shop with a deliberately nonchalant wave and without looking back. It's started raining, a lukewarm spring rain that doesn't stick.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
As Stacy starts rummaging through the drawers beneath the counter, Alexa wonders what kind of idiot she'd be to walk out now, like, shit. Actually, rather than heading for the street, she watches the other girl in silence while she digs through all the crap that accumulates in a store specialising in selling crap and wonders when it would be a good time to ask if she'd like Alexa's phone number written on her pretty, delicate wrist. Before or after she's purchased her Glitter stash? Who the fuck knows.
Since waiting patiently has never been one of Alexa's many, varied virtues, she starts moving a bit restlessly from foot to foot and then says, finally, to break the suspense, in order to punctuate the quiet and drown out the muted rustling of paper and plastic: ]
I'm not going anywhere, trust me.
no subject
[ Done, she wants to say, but then her fingers slip across something hard and sharp, metallic. She smiles and pulls it up. It's covered in a plastic wrapping still, a make-shift protective casing she stole from some other thingamabob, she can't remember which. Straightening up, she lays it on the counter, not too far away from the small pile of ear studs Alexa's chosen. She notes somewhat distantly that they all look a bit cheap and wonders what something highly simple, yet highly expensive would look like in one of Alexa's many ear piercings. Well, not that it's any of her business. She just wonders. Harmless, okay? Harmless. ]
It's alright if you hate it! [ She looks up at the other girl carefully, keeping her smile light. Unassuming. ] It was part of the intro sale, you know, and, well, you didn't come by - [ Those few words simply stumble out, almost staccato-fast ] - so I saved one. Just, just in case.
[ She unwraps it quickly. It's a black tiara but nothing like the ones you'd normally find in this shop. She'd ordered just a few of them; too expensive for the shop and not enough customer appeal, generally speaking. Pushing it towards the other girl, she looks up, feeling her cheeks redden slightly now. Great. ]
It's - I already bought it and I don't want it. But I figured I'd at least ask.
no subject
[ It just slips out, automatically. Noticing the blush in Stancy's cheeks, though, she shuts herself up before she can say anything else about the tiara that honestly looks like a misplaced prop from the set of "Lord of the Rings".
Well, you didn't come by - it almost makes her wince. She honestly should have apologized for that already, why the fuck hasn't she? Mom would complain that she's raised Alexa better than that, but they'd both know she hasn't raised Alexa at all, yeah? Expression growing harder, she just stares from the headpiece to the girl who's unwrapped it like it's the fucking crown jewels. In all honesty (and she is always if nothing else perfectly honest), it's so damn fugly, but at the same time there's something about it that attracts her. Like, fucking hell, imagine her sporting such a thing one day at Rosebud? They'd get something else to talk about for once. So, she swallows down her scorn and reaches out to pick it up, balancing the crazy punk tiara on her palm and shoving its ugliness in her own face.
Shit's the right word. ]
This will be a love-hate relationship, you've been warned, but I'll take it along with the rest. [ A brief pause before she adds, her voice softer, not really soft, just softer, okay. ] Thanks for thinking of me. Sorry I've been keeping you waiting.
no subject
Sorry I've been keeping you waiting. It's okay, she thinks. It's okay if you promise you won't do so anymore.
What she says, however, is: ]
No problem.
[ She hits up the cash register. Puts in a few numbers, watches as it spits out a total, a small sum of Euroes, though she realises she's got no clue whether or not it's a small sum for her. Whether she's rich or poor, where she lives, what she likes to eat, how she goes to sleep at night. She doesn't know but she'd kind of like to.
Ugh. ]
The jewelry's on the house. Seeing as you aren't getting any credit, right? It's actually pretty rude of me.
no subject
While the girl hits up the cash register, she watches her with the sort of intent that's allowed when someone juggles numbers that'll go out your wallet. Her hair has a nice fall to it, all curls and sunshine. She's equally round-faced and fresh-faced, though there's nothing really naive about her, she just seems the bright-spirited type by nature. Who the fuck knew those kinds of people even existed in this grim world anymore?
Alexa herself had forgotten. Long ago.
Then, Stacy tells her the purchase is on the house and who's she to turn such an offer down? Now she might even get that ale at Rosebud tomorrow night, that's great, right? Except, she has no idea why she's never seen the other girl at the club, because the vibes are strong with this one and yet, throughout the last five years when she has frequented Rosebud, Stacy's never been. She'd like to see her on the dance floor, to be honest.
Blinking, she clears her throat again and manages a halfway polite: ]
No, it's fine. Thanks. [ An uncomfortable moment of hesitation. Finally, Alexa decides to fuck it all up, if that's what'll happen, who can even tell. But it's her style. ] Hey, do you want my phone number? That way you can keep tabs on me. Make sure I don't let another couple of months pass.
no subject
The thought brings her pause. Fingers running on habit, packing and taping up, she looks up slowly. Do you want my phone number, she asks, and Stacy realises that she's been imagining the two of them meeting up again - and again - before the offer was ever on the table. God, she's so spoiled. God. With a small smile, unable to keep the slight tremor out of her voice, she replies: ]
Sure, I'd like that. [ She swallows. Packs up the last bits, reaching for a bag without asking whether she wants one or not, filling it automatically with a few free samples, some goodie cards. ] You can have mine too! I have a card...
[ Refusing to consider how incredibly awkward it is for someone to have their own, personal calling card without actually having a job function worth calling, she pulls out a pretty, white business card. It's lined with a row of nail polishes on the top, her name, address and phone number printed below in gold letters. Smiling sheepishly, like, I know, I know, it's tacky, she just drops it into the bag. There. Done. Then, she waits. Expectantly. ]
no subject
Well. Okay. Shit.
Alexa straightens up, putting the pen back in its place and adopts a self-satisfied expression that hopefully masks how she feels a bit like running now. Away. This is intense, for fuck's sake. This holds potential to hurt. Swallowing something thick in her throat, she cocks her head and looks from her phone number in black on Stacy's lower arm to Stacy's face. Text me before you wash it off, she kinda wants to say, but doesn't. ]
I like funny texts, so shoot me one of those, yeah?
[ She says instead. Like, what. Facepalm. ]
no subject
She can't look up. Her cheeks are reddening to the point where she's got to be as red as anything, as the small heart pendant down on the wall, hanging so precariously close to the dagger. Its natural counter-part. God, this is crazy. Crazy shit, she'd say, and though her Mum would disapprove of her language, she's certain that Alexa wouldn't, that it might just be how she'd put it, too.
The thought gives her enough strength to look up, finally. Meeting Alexa's eyes, an odd expression on her face, like she's going James Dean on her if James Dean found himself surrounded by Martians. Cool fish. Cool fish but out of water in a way, somehow.
It's pretty cute. ]
I'm more the type for random texts, like, this is my nail polish right now, or this funny animal ate my breakfast? [ She tucks her arm out of the way, wanting to simultaneously hide it behind her back and stare at it for hours. ] But I'll try.
no subject
[ It's time to go, Alexa can tell, it's really time to go and with some effort, she manages to grab the bag that Stacy has loaded with gifts (as well as her number on fucking nail polish-decked paper) and step away from the counter, turning halfway to the side, making it obvious that she's heading onwards. Out. The street is calling or some shit... She feels like she needs the biggest fucking coffee they can give her at Starbucks. She feels simultaneously like crap and thin air. Without being religious or anything, Heaven's still a close call here, there's a straight line to Hell from that place, yeah? ]
Take care, Stacy.
[ It's said in a loud voice over one shoulder while she flees the mostly pink-pastel-paradise of this damn Glitter store. Stacy's name is light and bubbly on her tongue, a bit like the girl herself and there's a moment where Alexa wonders what she'll taste like, beyond the usual, the ordinary. There's always a certain degree of personality in a girl's taste, her scent, how she feels beneath your fingers.
For now, she's seen enough uniqueness in person to last her a good while, so the question can remain where it is, at the back of her mind, unanswered and uncared for. Alexa exits the shop with a deliberately nonchalant wave and without looking back. It's started raining, a lukewarm spring rain that doesn't stick.
She's so going to the nearest Starbucks, fuck. ]