#pretty sure there's nothing meaningfully different between romance and friendship yeah

[lwoorl]

So anyway yeah. Preeeetty sure I'm aroallo

[oliveandletlive-blog]

Pumpkin Spice || Olivie

WHO: Evie Miller + Olivia Smith

WHEN: Friday, September 14

WHERE: A cozy coffee shop in Evie’s college campus

WHAT: Idiocy. Stupids finally getting their shit together. It’s gross.

EVIE

It’s taken some courage, but she’s finally taken Puck’s advice about Olive . Well, taken-ish. She’s turned the filter of their friendship off, made her intentions more clear. She just had to say the words. Which should be easy, given all the flirting between the two of them, but here she is... taking about smoothies. “They use real pumpkin, not sugar filled syrups like at Starbucks.”

OLIVE

No matter what Bea says, the fact of the matter is she has nothing to interpret or assume about her relationship with Evie. They're just friends. She knows this for a fact, because they went on a date that was not horrid, but Evie thought it was, sort of, because she only sees her as a friend. So even if reading their latest conversations as anything but flirty has become a bit difficult, Olive knows she has to try. Because she's a decent human being who knows the meaning of consent. "Oh, you can tell." She nods, taking another sip of her smoothie. "Still a bit strange to drink sweet pumpkin, but it's very good!"

EVIE

Evie smiles around her straw (paper, because this place is committed to saving the turtles and that's just another reason why she knew Olive would like it) as she takes another sip. There's something fluttering in her stomach. Not nerves -- nothing about Olive makes her feel nervous -- but something different. Something good, she thinks. She knows what she wants, and that she's ready. And most importantly, she knows that if Olive's feelings have in fact changed, they can go back to being mates. Yet, she feels.... She feels a lot. Evie nods thoughtfully as she swallows. "Yeah," she hadn't been so convinced herself, "but recently I've come to realize there are some things we think won't work that actually turn out to be..." she shakes her head, cheeks flush and heart thumping, "amazing." Evie looks at her, meaningfully. Because it's taken some time, but maybe they could be a pumpkin pie.

OLIVE

Sometimes Olive feels like there's a part of her that knows things she doesn't. Like right now, when she feels a blush creeping up her neck and warming up the bridge of her nose but she doesn't really know why. It's like Evie is speaking to that part of her. The part that blushes even if she doesn't know exactly why. "Well, I'm glad we decided to start with pumpkin smoothies and not Tarzan loincloths." She hasn't forgotten that conversation. "I think it's safe to say those definitely won't work out"

EVIE

Evie thinks she gets Puck things about blushes now, because the one creeping up Olive's neck is... yes. It's all very yes. Until Olive's bringing up loincloths and how that definitely wouldn't work and then it's a tinge of guilt that Evie's feeling because it's her rejection that has Olive so certain and that is frankly making the whole telepathic message difficult. But it's okay. She just has to be a little more forward. Biting her lip, Evie shifts in her seat so she's sitting a little closer to Olive. "I meant what I said, you know." Her hand is shaking slightly -- why is she so nervous?! -- as she moves to to rest on Olive's knee, squeezing just so. "You could definitely pull it off." A beat. "In practice, not just theory."

OLIVE

Olive isn't daft, she doesn't think. She's smart. She has a doctorate. She's a woman of science. So when she said Evie wasn't interested in her, she said it because it was a fact. They went on a date, and Evie made it clear they were just friends, and that was that. And yet suddenly, everything's different. Because she's not daft, as she said, she's pretty smart. And she'd have to be an absolute idiot to miss what Evie is saying. What it means that she's placing her hand on Olive's knee (and God, it sends a shiver up her spine because she hasn't been touched in seven years, not in a way that means more than friendly affection) and what it means that she's so adamant Olive could pull off a loincloth. In practice. "Loincloths are just... very unattractive." Her voice is low and she suddenly realizes she's been staring at Evie's hand on her knee for longer than strictly polite. And yet, she can't look away. Almost as if she was scared it'd disappear if she did. "But I think I know what you mean." She thinks Evie means she'd like her in a loincloth, because she likes her in other clothes as well. She likes her regardless of what she's wearing. When she finally looks up into Evie's eyes, she hopes her own don't show just how scared she is. Because she is. What if she's wrong again? But she's not only smart but also brave (her dad had a point when he got her into martial arts so she wouldn't get her arse kicked every other day) and being brave means you do things even if you're scared.

So Olive leans in. Just a little, at first. It's subtle enough that she could probably play it off as nothing out of the ordinary if Evie was horrified. And then, because Evie isn't horrified, she leans in a little closer. Glances at Evie's lips and licks her own just so. It feels like bungee jumping, if there was a chance your bungee cord would be cut after the jump. "I won't kiss you if you don't want me to," because it feels a little wrong to just spring a kiss up on someone whose last piece of feedback on romance with you was 'no thank you, buddy', even if there are loincloth declarations and a hand on a knee.

EVIE

Evie can admit she has the tendency to get inside her own head. It's important to acknowledge one's shortcomings, she thinks, but equally important not to excuse them but instead actively work at getting better. So when Olive says Loincloths are unattractive it takes some effort not to spiral into thoughts about the idea of them not being attractive and instead to hear the words as they are intended -- loincloths are unattractive in practice but Olive understands the meaning behind her words. She thinks. Because Olive is staring at her hand and when she moves it's closer not away which is somehow just as scary but also something else. .... exciting, maybe? She feels excited and vulnerable and a little bit like she's forgotten how to breathe, but somehow she finds just enough air left in her lungs to speak. "I want you to," it's quiet, but it's sure. And just to prove how sure she is, Evie closes the distance between between their lips with a kiss -- something gentle and sweet that warms her whole body from head to toe and gosh she hopes Olive feels this too because now that she's started kissing her Evie's not sure she'll be able to stop.

OLIVE

Evie wants her to. Evie wants Olive to kiss her. Not only that - Evie's kissing her. And Olive's pictured this before. In dreams and fantasies and idle thoughts. And every single time it happened, it was earth-shattering. Life-changing. It was always such an enormous moment. But now it's really happening, and Olive doesn't feel like it's any of those things. It's just... right. She kisses Evie right away, without thinking, just because it's what feels right. There's a twinge of something in her heart, something like an aftershock of a goodbye she never really got to say seven years ago. But she's not sad. She's here, kissing Evie for the first time, feeling... oh, she's feeling everything she hasn't allowed herself to feel for seven years, all at once. Her hand moves to rest on Evie's on her knee, and she swears it feels like electricity between their skins. And then, just to see what happens, she parts her lips just so, the tip of her tongue gently flicking against Evie's bottom lip.

EVIE

Olive is kissing her back -- properly kissing!! -- and any remaining doubts she might have had are gone because while Evie may not have kissed very many people in her life she has kissed enough to know this is not the sort of kissing one does to politely let down their friend. This is the kind of kiss that means something. It's not a pull your clothes off and have you in the middle of a cafe kind of kiss either, but its full of promise -- of piles of clothes, and hellos, and so much more. And it's those promises that have Evie's heart thumping in her chest and a shiver running down her spine. Well, the promises in tandem with Olive's tongue looking to deepen the kiss. And who is she to stop her? Letting her smoothie fall to the table with a thud, Evie offers Olive all of her attention, her hand moving to cup her cheek as she parts her own lips with a sigh.

OLIVE

It's a good kiss. Oh, it's such a good kiss. Not because of technique or any other such silliness, but because... it's good. It feels good. Her heart flutters in her chest, and her skin flushes all over because Evie's hand is cupping her cheek, and Olive could just cry. She won't. Not really. There are two tears that do manage to sneak past her lashes when her eyes flutter closed, but she's not crying. It's just tears. It's been so long since she's felt... held. She doesn't care about the smoothie anymore, even if she's sure she'll never be able to think or smell or taste pumpkin pie ever again without thinking of this. Of Evie and their first kiss. First of many, she hopes. But she only hopes because she's trying to be smart and keep her feet firmly on the ground, but the truth is she doesn't hope this is the beginning of something. She knows. So she shifts a little on her seat, moving closer. Their knees are touching now, and it's funny because a moment ago this was perfect, maybe even  a little too cozy for two friends being friends, but now suddenly... suddenly there's no such thing as being close enough. And she hopes (really, this she doesn't know) Evie feels it, too. The need to be closer. But because this is a public place, she just slots her fingers in the spaces between Evie's, and lets that extra bit of closeness make up for the one they can't have between their bodies right now.

EVIE

She's not quite sure how love they've been kissing -- It feels so long and too short all at once -- but she is vaguely aware that they are in public (Olive's tongue is in her mouth in public!!) and it's perfect and also not strictly polite. Their kiss is teetering on the edge of polite enough for public consumption which admittedly Evie finds thrilling but she's not sure she wants their first kiss to be a scandal. They'll have plenty of time to be impolite, she thinks. Knows. She knows, it's a gut thing. Very scientific. So reluctantly she pulls away -- not far enough away to burst their bubble but enough to give them both space to breathe. Hand still cupping Olive's cheek, Evie offers a breathless smile, the pad of her thumb tracing the flushed cheek. "So," Evie clears her throat, her voice a bit deeper than usual, "we're on the same page then, yeah?"

OLIVE

Evie is the one who breaks the kiss, but Olive, for once, doesn't even consider something could be wrong. There's just no doubt in her mind: that was a good kiss. This, between them? It's good. And it's real. And it's very much not only in her head. It takes her a moment to open her eyes and focus them on Evie, and then her heart does a funny little thing because it really is her. Evie. Her best friend. She really just kissed her best friend, and it really felt as wonderful as it did. It's... she thinks she probably needs a little more time to fully process everything she's feeling. But for now, she knows it was right. And that's enough. So are they on the same page? "Yeah. I think so." She smiles, something a little bashful because knowing she made Evie's voice sound like that makes her feel... things. All over. It's a little overwhelming in the best possible way. She knows she must be blushing, because her cheeks feel warm. "The page where we like each other. Not just as friends?"

EVIE

She's not going to lie, Evie was a bit worried about this. That she'd worked herself up and that thing you can't control -- the chemistry of it all -- wouldn't be there and then she'd have broken Olive's heart twice and it would have been her fault. Maybe that's the real reason she put this off as long as she has. Not just out of fear of hurting herself, but for fear of hurting Olive worse than she already had done. But she's happy to report all that worry was for nothing. That spark is there between them, she feels it as she turns her hand over on Olive's thigh so she can lace their fingers together properly. "That's the ticket." Not just as friends, she thinks that's an important distinction. Olive still feels very much like her best friend but she also feels more. She doesn't want to get ahead of herself, but she has a feeling their going to be the couple whose kids (or farm animals) are right about them being soulmates because in so many they already have been this whole time. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get here."

OLIVE

There it is. Out loud. They like each other, and not just as friends. It feels important. Like one of those things you may not appreciate in the moment, but with time you realize it was a pivotal moment in your life. This feels a little like that. Like she should commit it to memory because she'll be asked about it years from now. About the very first time she kissed Evie, and the day they found out they liked each other as more than just friends. But then Evie's apologizing, and Olive can only shake her head, fingers gently squeezing Evie's hand. No, there's nothing to apologize for. The only important thing is that she got here, eventually. That's all. "It took me seven years. Who am I to judge?" She smiles, and hesitates for only a second before leaning in to steal another kiss. Short and sweet. No tongue, just - proving she can do it. Because they're on the same page. "I'm glad you changed your mind."

EVIE

There's something soothing about Olive's words. Evie says the same all the time in her own way -- to students, and peers, and friends -- you can't judge your pace against anyone else. It doesn't matter how long it did or didn't take, she got there (here, in this cafe, within kissing distance of Olive and feeling like she can conquer anything with her by her side) and that's the important bit. But Olive's words just stick in a way her own can't. They've both been on journeys. They're just lucky to find themselves in the same place at the same time. And Evie does feel very lucky. So she squeezes Olive's head and smiles in return. "Yea," she nods, "I'm glad you didn't change yours."

OLIVE

"I've been told I'm very stubborn," she grins, and she doesn't mind if it's a dumb toothy smile or not because Evie's seen plenty of those and she likes her anyway. How amazing is that? Evie likes her. She's not quite over it just yet. "Not easy to change my mind, I'm afraid." She'd say she tried to stop liking Evie, but she'd be lying. She never did. She didn't try to make Evie like her, either, because that just felt... slimy, somehow. She just made peace with the fact that she'd always like Evie, and Evie would never like her back. And yet, here they are. "This isn't weird at all." And she means it. She was afraid this would ruin their friendship or make everything awkward, but it's... the opposite, really. Almost as if not kissing her, not holding her hand, not saying she likes her was the awkward, unnatural thing. "It feels... right."