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OPEN POST;
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① Pick a character ② Pick a prompt (or DIY) (shamelessly and selectively pilfered from ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small} bakerstreet's Random Scenario Meme)③ Do the thing!. table code by betterdolphin | |
[ She's got a mind to do that again. She definitely wants to, and she wants to pull him back close to her with the hand that's still hanging onto his shirt--but when she hears him call it a mistake, her grip loosens until she finally just lets go, letting her hand drop to her side. ]
--Do you honestly think that was a mistake?
[ She keeps her eyes on him, even if he won't make eye contact. ]
--Do you honestly think that was a mistake?
[ She keeps her eyes on him, even if he won't make eye contact. ]
Kasumi. You're drunk.
[ Yep, that's going to be his fallback explanation for the rest of the night.
Especially since he's starting to get that gross feeling that he's taking advantage of her, and maybe chivalry is dead, or whatever, but guilt sure as hell isn't. ]
I just-- I shouldn't have done that. Not when you're not thinkin' straight.
[ Yep, that's going to be his fallback explanation for the rest of the night.
Especially since he's starting to get that gross feeling that he's taking advantage of her, and maybe chivalry is dead, or whatever, but guilt sure as hell isn't. ]
I just-- I shouldn't have done that. Not when you're not thinkin' straight.
[ She just--sighs. Because as much as she wants more, she can't possibly argue against that. She's drunk, really drunk, and this isn't how sober Kasumi would have wanted their first... kiss, or whatever, to go. ]
You're really nice, Peter Quill. You know that?
[ She folds her arms, then, in a sort of defensive, guarded manner, like she's expecting the answer to her next question to hurt. ]
Just... Do you not-- [ like me like that? Because the kiss just now felt so right, somehow, but maybe he just did it because she asked. ] Never mind.
You're really nice, Peter Quill. You know that?
[ She folds her arms, then, in a sort of defensive, guarded manner, like she's expecting the answer to her next question to hurt. ]
Just... Do you not-- [ like me like that? Because the kiss just now felt so right, somehow, but maybe he just did it because she asked. ] Never mind.
[ when she backs off, he's a weird mix of relieved and disappointed.
-- No, he's relieved. Yeah. He should be relieved. He'll convince himself of that soon enough.
At her aborted question, though, he frowns. ]
You okay, Kasumi?
-- No, he's relieved. Yeah. He should be relieved. He'll convince himself of that soon enough.
At her aborted question, though, he frowns. ]
You okay, Kasumi?
Yeah.
[ her grip on her own arms as they're folded visibly tightens. She's drunk enough to want to just ask what he thinks about whatever just happened, but she's starting to sober up enough to know that any such conversation would just be deflected with, "Kasumi. You're drunk." ]
I'm fine. I should probably drink water--
[ in spite of herself, she isn't yet sober enough that her coordination is all the way back, considering how she almost just fell before Peter caught her, and how she now spins on her heel to walk towards her kitchen, and how she nearly walks right into the counters, and how when she opens a cupboard to grab a glass she can't... reach... why. ]
[ her grip on her own arms as they're folded visibly tightens. She's drunk enough to want to just ask what he thinks about whatever just happened, but she's starting to sober up enough to know that any such conversation would just be deflected with, "Kasumi. You're drunk." ]
I'm fine. I should probably drink water--
[ in spite of herself, she isn't yet sober enough that her coordination is all the way back, considering how she almost just fell before Peter caught her, and how she now spins on her heel to walk towards her kitchen, and how she nearly walks right into the counters, and how when she opens a cupboard to grab a glass she can't... reach... why. ]
[ Kasumi why do you even put things that high.
He wants to laugh, but considering everything that's happened, the sound dies in his throat. Instead, he goes to the kitchen, moves in beside her, and plucks down the glass she's reaching for. ]
Hey, maybe you should take it easy.
He wants to laugh, but considering everything that's happened, the sound dies in his throat. Instead, he goes to the kitchen, moves in beside her, and plucks down the glass she's reaching for. ]
Hey, maybe you should take it easy.
[ Because Keiji used to do that to piss her off and the habit was ingrained in her after he died. Also because she's usually coordinated enough to stand on her tiptoes...
In any case, she gladly takes the glass from Peter. ]
Isn't that what I'm doing?
In any case, she gladly takes the glass from Peter. ]
Isn't that what I'm doing?
I dunno, I kinda counted, like, two or three almost-disasters when you were making your way from the door to here.
[ she's filling her glass up with water and taking a sip as he talks, her eyes locking onto his over the rim of her glass. ]
So you were watching me pretty closely, then?
[ sorry, Peter. Drunkasumi can't help but miss the point. ]
So you were watching me pretty closely, then?
[ sorry, Peter. Drunkasumi can't help but miss the point. ]
[ -- Congrats, he actually splutters a little. ]
What? No, that's-- do you not remember almost crashing into your counter, just now?
What? No, that's-- do you not remember almost crashing into your counter, just now?
[ She's leaning with her back against the counter, now, both hands around her glass, and she emits a triumphant little 'hmph' at Peter's reaction. ]
Yeah, yeah. Relax, Peter. I'm just kidding. I-- [ she clears her throat. ] You don't have to worry about me asking you to kiss me again.
[ Tonight, at least. Or possibly ever, but she really wouldn't want that. ]
Yeah, yeah. Relax, Peter. I'm just kidding. I-- [ she clears her throat. ] You don't have to worry about me asking you to kiss me again.
[ Tonight, at least. Or possibly ever, but she really wouldn't want that. ]
[ He doesn't have an explanation for that weird little twinge of disappointment, but he's careful to hide it from his expression.
Still, he wants to try to keep things light, so he pulls a sour face. ]
Drink your water, kid.
Still, he wants to try to keep things light, so he pulls a sour face. ]
Drink your water, kid.
Hey, don't call me kid. You're gonna make yourself feel old.
[ Buuut she drinks her water like a good girl, and when she's done chugging that, she actually manages to set the glass back down onto her counter without, like, slamming it. ]
So, hey, um. [ She takes a deep breath. ] Sorry about earlier. We should... probably just talk about it in the morning or something, right?
[ Buuut she drinks her water like a good girl, and when she's done chugging that, she actually manages to set the glass back down onto her counter without, like, slamming it. ]
So, hey, um. [ She takes a deep breath. ] Sorry about earlier. We should... probably just talk about it in the morning or something, right?
[ He huffs out a laugh at that, and at her question, he hesitates, chewing the inside of his bottom lip.
(Bad habit. Mom always told him to quit it, but he never did.)
Eventually he nods, though. ]
Yeah, we can talk about it tomorrow. But don't worry about it, okay? No hard feelings.
[ A part of him expects she might not remember, come the next morning. ]
(Bad habit. Mom always told him to quit it, but he never did.)
Eventually he nods, though. ]
Yeah, we can talk about it tomorrow. But don't worry about it, okay? No hard feelings.
[ A part of him expects she might not remember, come the next morning. ]
Yeah.
[ Is the only thing she can really respond with, to that. She lets Peter show himself out of her apartment, and she somehow manages to make her way over to the door after he closes it behind himself to stand on her tiptoes and look through the peephole as he goes back into his own apartment. It's only then that she lets out a huge sigh, locking her door and turning around, her back slumping against it until she essentially melts into a curled heap on on the floor, bringing her knees up to her chest and resting her forehead there.
Way to freaking go, Kasumi.
She eventually manages to haul herself to her actual bed, and not her couch--there really wouldn't have been an excuse for sleeping on the couch instead, since she lives in a studio--and if there's anything she's thankful for tall that alcohol for, it's that it lets her fall fast asleep once her head hits the pillow.
Come morning, she sleeps in later than she usually would, given that it's a Saturday after an exhausting (in one way or another) Friday night, but she does still get up before noon, because that's the sort of thing that's been hard-wired into her system. And--she has one hell of a headache, but she knows just the cure for that.
Pancakes.
And she excites herself into the idea to the extent that she mindlessly grabs her phone with a mind to shoot Peter a text (something she does even though he lives literally twenty feet away):
Hey neighbor! I'm gonna make pancakes. You in?
--But it's staring down at her message that she starts thinking about what transpired last night, and for the first time possibly ever, Kasumi's. A little embarrassed. Is this text too peppy and casual considering she basically asked him to kiss her like some desperate teenager or a helpless woman in a lame chick flick?
The text she ends up sending him simply reads:
Pancakes? ]
[ Is the only thing she can really respond with, to that. She lets Peter show himself out of her apartment, and she somehow manages to make her way over to the door after he closes it behind himself to stand on her tiptoes and look through the peephole as he goes back into his own apartment. It's only then that she lets out a huge sigh, locking her door and turning around, her back slumping against it until she essentially melts into a curled heap on on the floor, bringing her knees up to her chest and resting her forehead there.
Way to freaking go, Kasumi.
She eventually manages to haul herself to her actual bed, and not her couch--there really wouldn't have been an excuse for sleeping on the couch instead, since she lives in a studio--and if there's anything she's thankful for tall that alcohol for, it's that it lets her fall fast asleep once her head hits the pillow.
Come morning, she sleeps in later than she usually would, given that it's a Saturday after an exhausting (in one way or another) Friday night, but she does still get up before noon, because that's the sort of thing that's been hard-wired into her system. And--she has one hell of a headache, but she knows just the cure for that.
Pancakes.
And she excites herself into the idea to the extent that she mindlessly grabs her phone with a mind to shoot Peter a text (something she does even though he lives literally twenty feet away):
Hey neighbor! I'm gonna make pancakes. You in?
--But it's staring down at her message that she starts thinking about what transpired last night, and for the first time possibly ever, Kasumi's. A little embarrassed. Is this text too peppy and casual considering she basically asked him to kiss her like some desperate teenager or a helpless woman in a lame chick flick?
The text she ends up sending him simply reads:
Pancakes? ]
[ Peter stays up for a while, going over the myriad ways he fucked up. He shouldn't have kissed her (even though he'd really wanted to). He shouldn't have stuck around as long as he did (but he wanted to make sure she was alright).
And that look on her face, when he pushed her away -- he had no idea what to do with that.
But it was just-- a drunken mistake. They'd had a good time, that night, and Kasumi was just-- a very friendly drunk, sometimes. And last night she was just. Extra friendly.
Sleep doesn't come easy, that night. At least the next morning, he only wakes up with a slight headache. And enough fidgety energy to power five small nations, which he tries to expend by pacing back and forth in his apartment. They did say, after all, that they would talk, come morning. But he wonders if she even remembers anything? In a way, he hopes not, if only to avoid the awkwardness between them.
(She was, after all, his best friend. And he's not entirely sure when that happened.)
He's surprised to get the text from her -- just a simple invitation, and while he hesitates to reply, it's only for an instant.
Be right over.
It's a few minutes later, and Peter makes himself decent -- t-shirt, jeans -- and heads over, and while he'd usually just walk right in, this time, he knocks. ]
And that look on her face, when he pushed her away -- he had no idea what to do with that.
But it was just-- a drunken mistake. They'd had a good time, that night, and Kasumi was just-- a very friendly drunk, sometimes. And last night she was just. Extra friendly.
Sleep doesn't come easy, that night. At least the next morning, he only wakes up with a slight headache. And enough fidgety energy to power five small nations, which he tries to expend by pacing back and forth in his apartment. They did say, after all, that they would talk, come morning. But he wonders if she even remembers anything? In a way, he hopes not, if only to avoid the awkwardness between them.
(She was, after all, his best friend. And he's not entirely sure when that happened.)
He's surprised to get the text from her -- just a simple invitation, and while he hesitates to reply, it's only for an instant.
Be right over.
It's a few minutes later, and Peter makes himself decent -- t-shirt, jeans -- and heads over, and while he'd usually just walk right in, this time, he knocks. ]
[ By the time Peter's responded, she's only barely managed to freshen up from the mess she woke up as. She did, after all, manage better than someone as drunk as she was did in terms of getting herself into her bed, but all that makeup didn't quite make it all the way off her face with the tired and drunken washing of her face. She's fixed that now, her face clean and bright but still tired, but thank god, because how terrible would it be to answer the door with dark circles under your eyes because you didn't take your mascara off properly the night before?
Then by the time he's knocking on her door, she's slipped on a loose, flowy lounge kimono to go over the tank top and shorts she's changed into since waking up, just to cover her cold shoulders. She strides on over to the door and, just to make sure, peers into the peephole to make sure it's actually Peter and not, like, that Bau guy or some rando--
When she sees that it is Peter, she--hesitates. Because she remembers everything about last night, for better or for worse, and she knows that they're going to end up talking about the thing that happened at some point during this, and there's a part of her that wants to pretend she doesn't, because like Peter, avoiding the awkwardness that comes with toeing the line between "best friends," (and seriously, when did that happen) and "something more" seems like a somewhat appealing idea.
On the other hand, though? She remembers that the kiss totally rocked, she remembers that she wanted more--way more, and... she doesn't know. She thinks it would be awesome if they did that again--maybe just jump off the cliff into "friends with benefits" territory, but who knows what Peter thinks? Only one way to find out.
She opens the door, her best "everything is okay" smile on. ]
Hey.
Then by the time he's knocking on her door, she's slipped on a loose, flowy lounge kimono to go over the tank top and shorts she's changed into since waking up, just to cover her cold shoulders. She strides on over to the door and, just to make sure, peers into the peephole to make sure it's actually Peter and not, like, that Bau guy or some rando--
When she sees that it is Peter, she--hesitates. Because she remembers everything about last night, for better or for worse, and she knows that they're going to end up talking about the thing that happened at some point during this, and there's a part of her that wants to pretend she doesn't, because like Peter, avoiding the awkwardness that comes with toeing the line between "best friends," (and seriously, when did that happen) and "something more" seems like a somewhat appealing idea.
On the other hand, though? She remembers that the kiss totally rocked, she remembers that she wanted more--way more, and... she doesn't know. She thinks it would be awesome if they did that again--maybe just jump off the cliff into "friends with benefits" territory, but who knows what Peter thinks? Only one way to find out.
She opens the door, her best "everything is okay" smile on. ]
Hey.
[ For his part, Peter shifts his weight from one side to the other, trying to mask his own anxiety. And when she answers, he gives her his usual smile.
Nope, nothing out of the ordinary today. No sirree. ]
Mornin'. How're you feeling?
Nope, nothing out of the ordinary today. No sirree. ]
Mornin'. How're you feeling?
Terrible, but that's what pancakes are for, right?
[ She steps aside, opening her door more so that he can step in. ]
[ She steps aside, opening her door more so that he can step in. ]
[ He huffs a single breath -- something like a laugh -- and steps inside. ]
I usually just down a few painkillers and hope for the best. But pancakes work too, I'm sure.
I usually just down a few painkillers and hope for the best. But pancakes work too, I'm sure.
[ After closing the door, she makes her way over to the kitchen, pulling a chair out for Peter as she passes by the table on the way over (and look, no crashing into the counters this time). ]
Want anything? Water? Coffee? Tea?
[ Truth is, Peter's been by so many times by now, that he could probably help himself. But this is Kasumi, playing the good host because she doesn't want to let this get awkward. ]
Want anything? Water? Coffee? Tea?
[ Truth is, Peter's been by so many times by now, that he could probably help himself. But this is Kasumi, playing the good host because she doesn't want to let this get awkward. ]
[ What's funny is, being treated like a guest actually makes him feel all the more awkward.
Life is weird.
But he takes a seat as directed. ]
Just-- water's fine, thanks.
Life is weird.
But he takes a seat as directed. ]
Just-- water's fine, thanks.
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