cherry kisses & sequined dresses
day 15 of @snowbaz-feda!!
trixie and keris get ready for the leavers ball
a/n: katie wrote femslash?? whaaaat??? also massive thank you to @snowbazilu for the last minute beta :D (i also forgot that @pennybunceforyourthoughts prompted some femslash aaaages ago so this counts i hope ahaha)
Keris looks gorgeous, like a freaking mermaid! I’m so proud of how our dresses turned out. I told her everything would go perfectly, and of course I was right. She’d made a face at the shop when I’d held up the sequined fabric, but come on, even she has to admit we look amazing. Her skirt is flowing just like I envisioned it would, and I’m so in love with my own dress I don’t think I ever want to take it off.
I can feel Keris watching me as a I struggle with the strap on my shoe. She’s waiting for me to ask her for help, but I’m not going to. I can do it on my own, I can–oh, fuck it. “Can you give me a hand?”
She pretends like she hasn’t heard me, staring down at her nails (I finally convinced her to try acrylics and they look amazing).
“Keris,” I groan, “I need help with my shoe.” The corner of her mouth twitches, a sign she’s about to stop fucking with me and actually help, but I get desperate. “You can wear my new earrings if you get off your perfect arse and–” I stop talking when she stands, smirking as she walks over and drops down to her knees, her mischievous eyes letting me know she’s perfectly aware of what she’s doing.
When she finally leans down to tackle the buckle, a lock of her wavy brown hair falls forward. I reach out and brush it back from her face, and catch her chin with my fingers.
“Trixie, your shoe…” As if she actually cares about that now.
“Fuck my shoe,” I say, “kiss me.” Keris rolls her eyes, but lets me guide her head up and press my lips to hers. She kisses me back and I can taste her cherry lip gloss, the one that always reminds me of our first kiss (I think she wears it on purpose). I slip my tongue in her mouth and try to deepen the kiss, but she grabs my by the shoulders and moves away.
“Trixie-,” she admonishes, “we have to get ready! You’re the one who wanted to go to this thing, remember?”
“Don’t act like you don’t want to go.”
“I don’t.” She stands and holds out her hand. I take it, allowing her to pull me up.
I make like I’m about to kiss her, leaning in close and sing-song, “yes you doooo.”
She pokes me in the side. Hard. “What the hell, Keris?” I whine, and she just shrugs and bats her eyes innocently. I want to smack her. And kiss her again. Maybe more of the kissing and less of the smacking, actually. Or maybe just…
She yelps when I poke her back, and narrows her eyes. “Are we doing this?”
I nod, and she smiles evilly as we start to circle each other. She feints to the right, and I brace myself for an assault, completely unprepared when she pounces on me from the other side and tackles me onto the bed.
Trixie’s struggling underneath me as I move up her body until I’m straddling her hips.
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” I ask, my voice dripping with mock innocence, and she sticks her tongue out childishly. I make myself comfortable on top of her, and she tries to buck me off. I lean down to tickle her and she manages to unseat me. I fall on the floor and Trixie’s up in a flash.
“Oh, shit, Keris! Are you alright?”
I’m laughing to hard to answer at first, and once she seems satisfied that I’m okay, Trixie joins in.
“We’re going to ruin our dresses,” she giggles.
I look down at my own. Two days ago I might have wanted to burn the thing, but it’s grown on me. When Trixie had suggested we make our own dresses, I’d been more than a little skeptical. Some of her ideas are a little…out there. “Let’s not do that,” I say.
This time it’s her turn to help me up, and I let her, squeezing her hand along the way. When she pulls me close to her, I notice her eyeliner is a bit crooked.
“I think you need to fix your wings, love,” I say, and for some fucking reason she looks behind her, as if she’s got actual bloody wings back there. (When we met in first year I was convinced she had them and just spelled them invisible.) (How ridiculous is that?)
I can tell by her face when she realizes what I mean, and she starts to rustle through my make-up bag. I sit back down on her bed and reach for my mobile, scrolling through my new messages when I remember what I was going to say earlier.
“Dev told me Basil and Simon are together now,” I say, and wince when I hear what sounds like Trixie dropping my compact.
“Together, dating, in love, whatever.” I can’t say I’m surprised, they’ve always been obsessed with each other. I guess I’m just better at spotting that stuff than other people. Like Trixie.
“You’re joking,” She says incredulously, and I smirk.
“Completely serious. I swear on Mr. Pickles.” (My cat.) (This is how she knows I’m serious.)
“Tell me everything!” She squeals.
“I just did,” I say.
“We can find out more tonight at the dance, then!” She says excitedly.
I roll my eyes. Only Trixie would get that invested in someone else’s love life. (Except I’ll admit I’m a little curious myself.)
Apparently deciding to abandon my compact, Trixie skips over to the full-length mirror on the back of her closet door.
I slink up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist and resting my chin on her shoulder–something I can only do when wearing heels. “I’ll tell you what our future will be like, Trixie the Pixie.”–she snorts at that–”You’re going to cut the hair of the rich and famous, and I’m going to mold young minds and we’re going to be so fucking happy everyone will be jealous of us always.”
“Always.” I say firmly. This seems to placate her, and I can feel her shoulders relax under my chin.
I press a quick kiss to her neck before stepping back to zip her dress. It’s backless, and she’s not wearing a bra. The urge to slip my hands through the sides and make her forget about this bloody ball is strong, but I resist. Somehow. Trixie really does have excellent tits.
“Right, sorry, just spaced out.”
She considers our reflections in the mirror and nods approvingly. “I ship us.”
I laugh. “I bloody well hope so, considering all the dating we’ve been doing.”
She laughs along with me, and then asks, “Are you ready?”
I search around for my clutch, and then grab it and nod. I catch Trixie winking at her reflection before she grabs my hand and drags me out the door for the last time.