“Oh my G-d,” Weiss says loudly, “you’re going to fistfight behind the Denny’s —”
Winter slams her hand over her mouth before she can make any more noise. “I am absolutely not. Cinder offered to talk, that’s all.”
Weiss jerks away, ducking under her hand so she can see the road. “I’m driving you to the Denny’s so you can fistfight your ex.”
“That is a factually incorrect statement.”
“I’m not driving you to the hospital when she breaks all your ribs,” she warns. “I didn’t even think you knew what Denny’s was.”
Winter scowls into the rear view mirror. Behind them, a red Subaru swerves into the next lane. Someone walking on the pavement stumbles over a crack. It’s one of Mantle’s brighter days; the breeze is brisk enough to be welcome, and it’s a perfect day to get into a fistfight behind a restaurant. Or have a charitable conversation. Or, Winter supposes, make out against a dumpster. Knowing Cinder, it could be all of the above.
“Of course I know what Denny’s is. I took you to all your post-show debriefs, remember?”
“You’re the only person in the world who calls it a debrief, Winter,” Weiss says idly. “And I could have driven myself, but. You know.”
“I do know,” Winter mutters, propping her cheek on her hand.
//
“So, I wanted to talk to you about something,” Cinder says breathlessly, running her fingers across Winter’s hips.
It’s such a jarring tone shift that Winter practically shoves her away, gasping for air. “What? What the fuck, Cinder?”
Cinder grins at her. “I wanted to talk to you about something.” She kisses Winter again, threading her fingers through her hair, filling in the space Winter left behind. She doesn’t bother trying to complain; her mind goes blank almost immediately. “That can wait, though.”
“Someone will see us,” she warns when Cinder pulls away again, tilting her head up to give her access to her neck, “and then I won’t be able to bail you out.”
“Funny, I don’t think I care,” Cinder says. Her lips ghost across Winter’s pulse point, across the skin of her neck. “You’re going to college, aren’t you?”
“Atlas,” Winter stammers, “Atlas, I’m going to Atlas.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Oh, good,” she says faintly.
When Cinder smiles, she feels it against her throat. “Well, I’ll see you there next year. Is there a conveniently-located Denny’s there, do you think?”
FILL: Team Anime/Manga
“Oh my G-d,” Weiss says loudly, “you’re going to fistfight behind the Denny’s —”
Winter slams her hand over her mouth before she can make any more noise. “I am absolutely not. Cinder offered to talk, that’s all.”
Weiss jerks away, ducking under her hand so she can see the road. “I’m driving you to the Denny’s so you can fistfight your ex.”
“That is a factually incorrect statement.”
“I’m not driving you to the hospital when she breaks all your ribs,” she warns. “I didn’t even think you knew what Denny’s was.”
Winter scowls into the rear view mirror. Behind them, a red Subaru swerves into the next lane. Someone walking on the pavement stumbles over a crack. It’s one of Mantle’s brighter days; the breeze is brisk enough to be welcome, and it’s a perfect day to get into a fistfight behind a restaurant. Or have a charitable conversation. Or, Winter supposes, make out against a dumpster. Knowing Cinder, it could be all of the above.
“Of course I know what Denny’s is. I took you to all your post-show debriefs, remember?”
“You’re the only person in the world who calls it a debrief, Winter,” Weiss says idly. “And I could have driven myself, but. You know.”
“I do know,” Winter mutters, propping her cheek on her hand.
//
“So, I wanted to talk to you about something,” Cinder says breathlessly, running her fingers across Winter’s hips.
It’s such a jarring tone shift that Winter practically shoves her away, gasping for air. “What? What the fuck, Cinder?”
Cinder grins at her. “I wanted to talk to you about something.” She kisses Winter again, threading her fingers through her hair, filling in the space Winter left behind. She doesn’t bother trying to complain; her mind goes blank almost immediately. “That can wait, though.”
“Someone will see us,” she warns when Cinder pulls away again, tilting her head up to give her access to her neck, “and then I won’t be able to bail you out.”
“Funny, I don’t think I care,” Cinder says. Her lips ghost across Winter’s pulse point, across the skin of her neck. “You’re going to college, aren’t you?”
“Atlas,” Winter stammers, “Atlas, I’m going to Atlas.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Oh, good,” she says faintly.
When Cinder smiles, she feels it against her throat. “Well, I’ll see you there next year. Is there a conveniently-located Denny’s there, do you think?”
//
i've never been to a denny's in my life