sarah manning (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
coppelganger) wrote2023-06-02 10:46 am
coppelganger) wrote2023-06-02 10:46 am
Entry tags:
ic contact; MoM
Hey, it's Sarah. Leave a message.
Hey, it's Sarah. Leave a message.
Mm—no shit?
[ Sarah fakes a shudder, grinning. Bourbon's her drink of choice, but it's hard to imagine going nearly a year without a single sip of red wine. Clara's a stronger person than she is, maybe. ]
You need to hang out with me more, then.
[ Sarah fakes a shudder, grinning. Bourbon's her drink of choice, but it's hard to imagine going nearly a year without a single sip of red wine. Clara's a stronger person than she is, maybe. ]
You need to hang out with me more, then.
Hey, on the bright side, you'll have discovered the secret to infinite drunkenness.
[ She tips her glass the slightest bit toward Clara in a cheers before drinking. ]
[ She tips her glass the slightest bit toward Clara in a cheers before drinking. ]
And all without the liver damage.
[She matches Sarah's gesture, despite having already taken a couple of large sips, and follows it with another one. Apparently, she's not determined to make this wine last, or sip it like a proper lady.]
Do you like women, Sarah?
[Well, that came out of nowhere.]
[She matches Sarah's gesture, despite having already taken a couple of large sips, and follows it with another one. Apparently, she's not determined to make this wine last, or sip it like a proper lady.]
Do you like women, Sarah?
[Well, that came out of nowhere.]
[ Wow, okay, that sure was a question. Sarah coughs on her bourbon, swallows. ]
I like people. [ That doesn't seem like a real answer, somehow, so she amends, ] Yeah, I like women.
I like people. [ That doesn't seem like a real answer, somehow, so she amends, ] Yeah, I like women.
Yeah. But you'll get through it.
[ Sarah scoots closer to Clara on the couch, tilting her head the slightest bit. Now she's close enough to kiss her, and she's thinking about it, because what the hell. All those points Clara made were true, after all. ]
[ Sarah scoots closer to Clara on the couch, tilting her head the slightest bit. Now she's close enough to kiss her, and she's thinking about it, because what the hell. All those points Clara made were true, after all. ]
[Clara's eyes blink into focus, taking in all of the ways Sarah is and isn't like her sisters. Her eyes are harder than Cosima's, and colder than Sarissa's, but there's the same downward curve to her mouth, the same adorable nose. Without the smudged makeup and the messy curls, she could almost be Cosima, and the proximity is enough to make Clara crave. She wants to be home, with her girlfriend's hands on her, with that familiar head of hair against her thigh. Through the growing fog of alcohol, it strikes her as cruel, almost unfair, that something so good had to end over a silly, human lie. It wasn't what she deserved. It wasn't what she was owed.
She leans in, trying not to look at the bow of Sarah's mouth.]
Want to make a really stupid decision with me?
She leans in, trying not to look at the bow of Sarah's mouth.]
Want to make a really stupid decision with me?
[ In answer, Sarah leans in that last little bit and kisses her. She kisses differently than Cosima, rougher and more urgently. One hand reaches out blindly and feels for the coffee table so she can drop her glass of bourbon, and the other goes up to run through Clara's hair, her touch strangely gentle even in its urgency. ]
Yeah, [ she mumbles against Clara's mouth, because she's been so tired, and she's so lonely, and making stupid decisions is what she does, so why stop now? ]
Yeah, [ she mumbles against Clara's mouth, because she's been so tired, and she's so lonely, and making stupid decisions is what she does, so why stop now? ]
[Hurt and anger and yearning spark though Clara at the rough contact, and she brings her free hand up to the curve of Sarah's neck as she kisses back. This is a bad idea - a very bad idea - but at the first scrape of nails on her scalp, she's done for. She sucks in a breath, dragging her teeth over Sarah's lip.
Her mouth tastes like wine, and her hair smells like smoke, and she's cold as ice, but everything else about Clara is soft, even behind her tightening fingers. She squirms, her cotton dress rucking up at the thighs as she tries to burrow harder against Sarah, until she can't see the fine hair and the smudged eyeliner, the lack of metal glinting at her nose.]
Her mouth tastes like wine, and her hair smells like smoke, and she's cold as ice, but everything else about Clara is soft, even behind her tightening fingers. She squirms, her cotton dress rucking up at the thighs as she tries to burrow harder against Sarah, until she can't see the fine hair and the smudged eyeliner, the lack of metal glinting at her nose.]
[ Clara's voice is playing over and over again in her mind. Want to make a really stupid decision with me? She wants to, especially now, touching Clara, kissing her, feeling her pressed up against Sarah. Tearing herself away is so hard, but again she hears—stupid decision—and, fleetingly, she wonders if this will kill any chance Clara and Cosima have to make things right. She can't let herself be responsible for that. She can't. So after several long seconds she pulls back, breathing hard, and says, ]
I want to. [ Her voice is rough, breathless, desperate. ] But I can't. We can't. [ Gently, she puts her hands on Clara's shoulders, not pushing her away, just holding on. ] You know that too, yeah?
I want to. [ Her voice is rough, breathless, desperate. ] But I can't. We can't. [ Gently, she puts her hands on Clara's shoulders, not pushing her away, just holding on. ] You know that too, yeah?
Hey, it’s Riss.
So the fifth of November is bonfire night. ( And her birthday, but you know. Secret clone business, etc. )
I was gonna do a thing on the beach. If you wanted to come, obviously, you don't have to. It's, uh— dumb actually, I dunno. Let me know.
So the fifth of November is bonfire night. ( And her birthday, but you know. Secret clone business, etc. )
I was gonna do a thing on the beach. If you wanted to come, obviously, you don't have to. It's, uh— dumb actually, I dunno. Let me know.
Aw, shit Thought you might be too cool. ( She sounds happy, though, despite the shittalking. )
Don't need to bring anything. A friend, maybe? Make me look more popular than I am?
Don't need to bring anything. A friend, maybe? Make me look more popular than I am?
No, see, that's where you say, "Sarissa, mate, you're the most charismatic, delightful person I know, not to mention intelligent and modest, how could I make you seem more popular?" And then I oretend to be all flattered and flustered.
[ Pffft ]
Sarissa, mate, you're delightful, but I dunno if I'd say modest.
Sarissa, mate, you're delightful, but I dunno if I'd say modest.
Oh, please. I got modesty coming outta my ears. I'm the most modest person I've ever met.
Edited (Gdi typos ) 2016-10-24 23:08 (UTC)
Yeah, alright. [ She's clearly smiling. ] Hey, you're not gonna make us all wear Guy Fawkes masks, are you?
It'd make telling people to wear name tags easier, but no. Special favour for you.
Actually the fifth's, uh, my birthday. Don't wanns make a thing of that, but uh-- yeah. I don't actually care that much about Guy Fawkes.
Actually the fifth's, uh, my birthday. Don't wanns make a thing of that, but uh-- yeah. I don't actually care that much about Guy Fawkes.
Yeah. Thirty-one. Officially old. Take me out to pasteur, or something.
[ She whistles. ]
Yeah, shit, you're gonna be an old lady compared to me, mate.
Yeah, shit, you're gonna be an old lady compared to me, mate.
Hey! No way, you're 1985 too, yeah?
Edited (That terrible moment you forget your own loser's birthday ) 2016-10-25 02:36 (UTC)
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