giveittoyoursister | 29 Chimera Court, Saturday Morning

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29 Chimera Court, Saturday Morning

Vi had had plans for after the dance. And it probably went without saying that they'd been sexy plans. However, Vi hadn't accounted for the punch and while she normally had a pretty good idea of her tolerance, she was also used to strong drink tasting like it, instead of lethal sugar, so instead there'd been drunken cuddling and boardgames on the couch until she'd passed out on Steph's shoulder.

On the bright side, she no longer had to worry about an impending hangover, since she was now a skinny, wiry scrap of a thing instinctively curled up around the other warm body on the softest surface she could remember sleeping on.

[For the girl!]

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Steph, for the record, thought it had been patently unfair of Vi to show up after the dance looking that good in a suit, but also drunk enough that she hadn't felt comfortable doing anything about it. And she'd had plans to (lovingly!) give Vi shit about it this morning.

Instead she was stirring beneath the blanket she'd draped over both of them last night, which had a lot less to cover this morning, and yawning.

She snuggled up a little closer to Vi, like a kid who was almost pathetically grateful to have someone around who wasn't going to pick on her like most of the kids did.

With the ease of long practice Vi ignored the rumbling in her belly and hugged Powder (because who else could it have been?) a little tighter. "Go back to sleep, Pow-Pow," she mumbled.

"'s not my name," Steph muttered sleepily, with a little giggle, but she squirmed around a little bit so she could get a look at the person hugging her and blinked. "Oh, um. Hi?"

Vi blinked in return. "You're not Powder." Which should've worried her more than it did.

"No, I'm Stephanie. I don't know anyone named Powder," Steph said, frowning. "Or you, either."

It was a matter-of-fact statement. She might not know Vi, but she felt like she could trust her.

Vic's probably feel flattered to know that, since it wasn't like her were taught to trust kids like her. "'m Vi," she said, looking around the place. "Where are we?"

It looked like some kind of rich person's house. Though Stephanie seemed nicer than a Piltie kid.

An older Steph would be amused at the idea of her house being described as a rich person's. You know, for like twenty seconds before her heart broke at the implications.

"Whoever lives here," she said, picking up some of the game pieces on the coffee table, "they like playing fun games."

She glanced across the room to the drum kit. "And the drums?"

It had not yet remotely occurred to her that playing the drums was something she might like to do.

Her stomach's turn to growl now.

"Oh. 'scuse me."

The walls were solid and the furniture was actual furniture, that very much counted as rich person in Vi's book.

Vi was used to ignoring her own stomach, but now her big sister instincts kicked in. "Let's find something to eat."

Steph was pretty sure her parents' house in Arcadia Bay was nicer, though it definitely wasn't one of the nice houses in town either.

"There's a fridge right there," Steph said, and reached for Vi's hand to lead her toward the kitchen. "Bet there's something to eat in there."

And there should be, even -- now that they'd developed a habit of having breakfast together on weekends, Steph was getting better about keeping groceries in the fridge.

The presence of a fridge (one that had food in it, even) definitely added to Vi's certainty this was a rich person's house, and she had very little compunctions about stealing from them that she might have had from someone who wasn't.

She stared at the contents of the fridge, too overwhelmed to actually choose something.

Well, at least Steph wouldn't hold it against her in the least?

"Oh. A lot of this stuff needs to be cooked," she said, frowning and totally unaware that she'd been inconvenienced by her own attempts to cultivate better habits. "But I can make us peanut butter sandwiches! I know how to do that."

She just figured whoever owned the fridge wouldn't mind its contents going to feed two hungry kids.

Well, technically Steph wasn't wrong there.

"We can do that then." Vi was pretty sure she could've tried cooking some of this, but sandwiches sounded like a better option if they had to make a hasty exit.

Look, Steph couldn't quite reach the stovetop yet, so she just kind of assumed cooking was out of the picture.

She pulled bread and peanut butter and strawberry jam out of the fridge and brought everything over to the table before she went rummaging around for a butter knife and -- well, paper towels would do instead of plates.

"We must have had a sleepover here last night," she said as she started spreading far too much peanut butter on a couple of slices of bread. "I guess that's why we woke up together?"

Given that Vi was just barely keeping herself from just sticking her fingers in the jar and scooping straight into her mouth, there wasn't really such a thing as 'too much'.

"That makes as much sense as anything." Not that this made that much sense.

Steph noticed that and, with the solemn expression of a kid who totally got it, just held the peanut butter jar out to her.

"You were a surprise," she agreed, then broke into a big smile. "But I like it."

She might not realize it until she turned 14, but she already knew what -- and who -- she liked, apparently.

Edited 2022-11-13 03:51 (UTC)

Vi smiled back as she took the jar, shoving a gob of peanut butter into her mouth, trying to be mindful of what Mom said about eating too much too fast.

"Yeah, you're pretty cool, kid." Definitely not what she'd expect from a place like this.

Steph's mouth fell open, and she scowled slightly. "I'm not a kid," she objected.

She totally was, of course.

"You're really cool, though," she added.

Look, Vi spent most of her time with her baby sister, she was used to being the older one.

She wasn't used to people who weren't Powder calling her cool though. "Thanks," she said, almost shy.

Steph grinned at her and stuck her own finger into the peanut butter jar, then offered Vi what was basically a piece of bread piled high with peanut butter and strawberry jam.

"I really like your hair," she said, then added more softly, "I bet if I had hair like yours people wouldn't laugh at me so much."

Vi gratefully took the bread, it was almost shockingly sweet compared to what she was used to, but chewing on it let her think about her words. "If they laugh at you then they're the ones missing out, and dumb."

It was probably kind of overwhelming, combined with the strawberry sweetness.

"That's what my mom says," Steph mumbled as she started piling peanut butter and jam onto another piece of bread for herself, her cheeks a little bit pink. "'cept she says it maybe a little nicer than that."

She paused, and her eyes went wide.

"I think you're nice, though! She's just, you know, a mom."

"My mom says you don't have to be nice about jerks, so long as you're not a jerk too." Because there was a difference between the two.

"That's what my dad said afterward," Steph related with glee that was somewhat muted because she had to broaden her entire concept of what moms were like. "He's cool like you."

You were getting some weetiny hearteyes right now, Vi. Just saying.

And did Vi have any idea what to do with those? No she did not. "I'm sure your mom's cool too," she said. "Moms tend to be cool." She loved Mom and Dad equally, but she was pretty sure Mom was cooler.

"She's the best," Steph said with all the emphasis only a small child could muster. "One time my teacher said I probably said something that made people pick on me, and my mom got the teacher in trouble."

From her wide-eyed expression, she thought that ought to have been impossible.

"...but I'm sure your mom's cool too. I mean, I've never met her."

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