There is something always just this side of high-energy-nerves that follow Kate, an almost electric feeling in the air when she’s in the room. She feels like… that moment when a storm is building, and it’s past the truly calm part already, but hasn’t quite started really ramping up. Just this burst of something frenetic that needs… release.
“No, this is not one of your mother’s fancy socialite parties, we are just…” she trails off, a perfect pause for effect even if it was really only because she’s not sure what the right word for what they are even is… “…friends…? Having drinks and maybe watching a movie…?” Her words hang in the air, awaiting their answers, while she tries to judge Kate’s reactions to all those phrases, and the suggestions that came with them.
Yelena is a multitasker, though, and she moves to flop back onto the bed once again. She’s in comfortable clothes, an old t-shirt that’s too big on her and a pair of pajama pants that rest low on her hips, socked feet swallowed by the bell flare of the pants. Practical enough to fight in, but far more casual than the sort of things Kate usually sees her wear.
“Come join me, Kate Bishop,” Yelena calls from the bed, feet pulled up toward her so her knees are basically a bridge, arm outstretched toward the other girl, fingers flexing. “I am so sad and alone in this white cloud.” Which to her credit, is exactly what the bed looks like— all white, white mattress, white sheet, white duvet. “It’s either a cloud or a marshmallow, whichever one you like the idea of best.”
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zvi
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Date: 2023-06-07 02:39 am (UTC)“No, this is not one of your mother’s fancy socialite parties, we are just…” she trails off, a perfect pause for effect even if it was really only because she’s not sure what the right word for what they are even is… “…friends…? Having drinks and maybe watching a movie…?” Her words hang in the air, awaiting their answers, while she tries to judge Kate’s reactions to all those phrases, and the suggestions that came with them.
Yelena is a multitasker, though, and she moves to flop back onto the bed once again. She’s in comfortable clothes, an old t-shirt that’s too big on her and a pair of pajama pants that rest low on her hips, socked feet swallowed by the bell flare of the pants. Practical enough to fight in, but far more casual than the sort of things Kate usually sees her wear.
“Come join me, Kate Bishop,” Yelena calls from the bed, feet pulled up toward her so her knees are basically a bridge, arm outstretched toward the other girl, fingers flexing. “I am so sad and alone in this white cloud.” Which to her credit, is exactly what the bed looks like— all white, white mattress, white sheet, white duvet. “It’s either a cloud or a marshmallow, whichever one you like the idea of best.”