radio-poem  asked:

29 for fem!rusame please?

Right, so this is my first time writing them as ladies, so hopefully this doesn’t suck. 

29. “Listen here, Asshole. This one’s mine.”

Anya is sitting at the bar, her pale hair hugging her neck, damp from sweat as she scowls into her Midori sour. Amelia had ordered it and pushed it at her, winking before slipping back into the throng of dancers at the nightclub. She pulls her hair away to one shoulder, wishing she had a hair tie. It’s too hot, and the music is too loud, and the liquor here is shit. Anya crosses her legs and leans back on the barstool to look for Amelia. She spots her, glued to the hip of a stranger and grinding in black and mesh cutout dress. At least Amelia is for once listening to Anya’s rules and is dancing within sight of the other woman.

Anya hates going to clubs with Amelia. She hates how she can’t hold her drink and flirts with anyone legal and willing. How when she disappears into the throng of pulsing bodies, Anya never knows if she’s going to reemerge like a swimmer with a laugh and drink with her at the bar, or if Anya will get a text and end up going home by herself.

The worst is when she finds Amelia the next morning, stretched out lazily on the couch while bidding last night’s conquest goodbye.

It hurts even more when she hears high heels walk out the door.

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