Phoebe
The sky was a smudgy mess of dark blues, like the colour of the water a painter washes their brushes in, but at least it had stopped raining. The grass in the Imperial Orchard was damp, and Phoebe could feel it seeping into her socks. Electric lights tuned to a warm glow and studded among the trees gave the walkways a premature festive quality.
Phoebe felt warm despite the chill air, with Thessaly clinging comfortably to her arm. She'd flinched at the contact at first, but as they'd walked along the boulevard, despite the inquiring eyes they'd met with cheery waves, she'd gotten used to it. The mermaid had handled the glances and stares much better than Phoebe, of course, but it was easy to follow her lead.
In among the trees they had a little more privacy. Phoebe said, "Do you know where Brynna’s gone?"
Thessaly frowned. "She didn't tell me exactly. I think she's going to see Mr Castelloro. There were two weird men waiting for her when she left the Palace."
Keeping her voice low, Phoebe said, "Mafia guys?"
"I don't think so. One of them was a cyborg."
That was weird, and extremely rare. Phoebe started to press for more information, and stopped. What would she do with anything more she learned? She shouldn't be talking about team stuff here, now, in this place of all places, with Thessaly of all people. Slowing her footsteps to almost a shuffle, feeling her sneakers rub through the grass, she said instead, "We could be really screwed if she doesn't pull it off. Are you still sure you wanna be seen with me?"
Thessaly slowed even more, bringing them to a stop, and half-turned, reaching over with her free hand to pluck at the front of Phoebe’s shirt. She bit her lip, visibly hesitating, then said, "What're you gonna talk about pulling off and being seen, hm?" She finished with a grin.
"Uh." Phoebe felt her mouth moving, but no words came. She settled for prying Thessaly’s fingers loose and taking hold of them, the mermaid's digits tiny between her own. "I still don't get it, you know."
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Turning more, Thessaly slid her hand up to Phoebe’s shoulder. Old training took over, and Phoebe put her own hand on Thessaly’s waist, as if they were on a ballroom dance-floor. Thessaly’s eyes sparkled as she giggled. "What's to get?"
Phoebe could feel her cheeks and neck growing hot. One of Thessaly’s fingernails traced tingling fireworks across the inside of her collar. Struggling to push her voice above a mumble, Phoebe managed, "You, apparently."
"What'd you say?" Thessaly whispered unsteadily.
The mermaid's sudden uncertainty floored the accelerator on Phoebe’s heart. Her chest felt full of bubbles, laughter waiting to be born but not quite ready yet. She rode it. Holding Thessaly’s eyes, she lifted her hand. "I get you, apparently." And she pressed Thessaly’s fingers to her lips.
Thessaly let out a high squeak, and Phoebe felt her grip tense. For a moment, the mermaid rallied, smirking slightly. "Now kiss me properly." Then it was gone, and it was the whisper again. "Please?"
Phoebe gathered Thessaly in at the waist, terror and excitement spidering over the skin of her back. Where Thessaly’s arms settled on her shoulders, the chills muted. She could feel the mermaid's gaze flickering around her face as she leaned in, and then the impossibly delicate brush of her nose against her own.
Their lips touched, and Phoebe was surprised at how chill Thessaly’s felt, slightly damp and very soft. She moved her mouth experimentally, sure she was doing it wrong. Thessaly pressed back more firmly, her grip on Phoebe’s neck tightening, and Phoebe tried to match what she was doing. It didn't last long, Thessaly’s head dipping so her forehead pressed against Phoebe’s.
Phoebe squeezed her tighter, and they almost overbalanced. Despite the breathless laughter that the stumbling wrenched from her, her treacherous eyes were welling up. Screwing them shut, she whispered, "I'm sorry."
Despite Phoebe’s best efforts, the mermaid heard. Her own whisper was just as unsteady. "For what?"
"I don't know. Taking so long?" Phoebe gritted her teeth, trying to swallow a sob. As it passed, she lifted her head again, looking down into Thessaly’s eyes. "You wanted to be seen together, right? Wanna come to the soiree with me?"
Thessaly giggled. "Listen to you, 'swa-ray'." She leaned into the pronunciation, teasing.
"What? That's what it's called, Thessaly, it's on the invites and everything."
"It's just funny to hear you being all posh." She grinned. "Is it really ok? Isn't it for the riders?"
Phoebe shrugged. "You're a guest of the Emperor, right? You have the freedom of the palace. I don't think anyone's gonna object, if anything you'll make it seem cooler to be there."
"Do I need to dress up?"
"I don't think it's going to be that fancy." Phoebe chuckled. "I think we're all supposed to be wearing our team uniforms. Gotta be seen with all the sponsor patches and stuff."
"Well, if it's with you, then."