I'd say we could fix that, but you'll have to remind me of that for later. Whole clothes racks, and stores, would be even worse. So you're saved this once.
Everyone gets jeans and drinks. It'll be perfect.
[ She pauses over the last word. It's a joke, but seeing the word still sticks a pin in her awkwardly. Because nothing is. In this place. In their family. With whatever (and who) they've left behind. But it's a simple statement. It is. And she just pushes send. She knows that's the long hours, too. ]
[She rewrites it a couple times, takes out the references to Allison having never shopped with her, or not knowing her style. She tries to just keep it simple.]
[ Allison wasn't, but there was a point where she hit the wall with all of it. Too many days with too little sleep, with too many hours being dressed and undressed and moved around and told her opinion by two or three dozen people. Especially now that she couldn't just simply respond to anything said. It made it a great way to not talk, but also a loathsome reason to just be talked at. ]
Tomorrow night?
I'm still looking down the barrel of any number of hours here.
[ Beat. ]
Is it better or worse if we choose night, if this place has the vampires as half its crowd? Should it be day?
[Her response is delayed while Vanya over analyzes that. She hasn't forgotten the last time she said something to Allison without thinking it through, and though it stung she couldn't ignore that it was true. (Not true now, but she wouldn't use the same barb twice.)]
I like things. Getting a drink with you can be one of them
[There's another gap between when she writes it and when she sends it, removing a question mark before she does.]
She'd meant the bar versus the worst things of this place.
She hadn't meant herself. But her lips press and it's impossible to stop the swell that crashes in her chest. Maybe it wouldn't have surprised her when they were doing coffee twice a week, but this had been starting all over again. With Vanya rewound to the theatre and having forgotten all of that. Her eyes prickle a little, rereading. A held breath pressing out her lips slowly.
Impossible relief, maybe even glad, but relieved more.
A gift granted she can't ask for. Maybe doesn't even deserve it. But she can't stop trying. She can't leave it, or Vanya, out anymore. ]
[She hopes Allison reads it as a joke, because - there is only so far she can go, still, and that entire distance is spent on Allison. The others - they keep trying, they keep dropping breadcrumbs in front of her, and she keeps trying to pick them up only to watch them turn to dust in her hands. Is that a bad metaphor? It feels like one - but the only metaphor that makes sense to her is one that involves crumbling.
They keep saying they want to try, Diego and Klaus mostly, but she barely knows how. It feels like her desire to try dried up years ago, but...here she is, trying the easier path.]
[ Allison's smiles press itself, but escapes just as quickly, because she's not really trying to hide it. Has no one to hide it from here. ]
I wouldn't dream of it.
And it definitely doesn't get you out of covering the first round for this new place. In case they can't buy hard liquor to the quality of their rave beer reviews.
[At first, Vanya's a little put out - reasonably, she knows Allison was on a break, it was a limited timeframe to talk, but her heart has never really agreed with her head. She's still trying to figure out what the nice, normal, decent response would be when the second message comes through. That makes it easier.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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If you think I own anything more than jeans and sneakers, you're crazy.
[Which is the nicest way she could say it - but she doesn't want to say then you don't know me at all, even as a joke. It's too raw.]
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Whole clothes racks, and stores, would be even worse. So you're saved this once.
Everyone gets jeans and drinks. It'll be perfect.
[ She pauses over the last word. It's a joke, but seeing the word still sticks a pin in her awkwardly. Because nothing is. In this place. In their family. With whatever (and who) they've left behind. But it's a simple statement. It is. And she just pushes send. She knows that's the long hours, too. ]
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[She rewrites it a couple times, takes out the references to Allison having never shopped with her, or not knowing her style. She tries to just keep it simple.]
When do you want to go?
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Tomorrow night?
I'm still looking down the barrel of any number of hours here.
[ Beat. ]
Is it better or worse if we choose night, if this place has the vampires as half its crowd? Should it be day?
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...Kirk might be, the guy who runs it? But I'm not sure. He didn't really say. But he was nice?
[She lets the question mark stand because she - well. She doesn't really trust her judgment of other people anymore.]
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[ The girl with original vampire roommates has to ask. ]
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It was weird. but the beer was good
[And beer is much more her speed than mimosas, anyway.]
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Never stop being strange, does it?
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less magic and space crystals strange
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It almost sounds like you might be liking something.
[ It's ironic, but Vanya might be the only person she doesn't hold that against in any part. ]
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I like things. Getting a drink with you can be one of them
[There's another gap between when she writes it and when she sends it, removing a question mark before she does.]
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She'd meant the bar versus the worst things of this place.
She hadn't meant herself. But her lips press and it's impossible to stop the swell that crashes in her chest. Maybe it wouldn't have surprised her when they were doing coffee twice a week, but this had been starting all over again. With Vanya rewound to the theatre and having forgotten all of that. Her eyes prickle a little, rereading. A held breath pressing out her lips slowly.
Impossible relief, maybe even glad, but relieved more.
A gift granted she can't ask for. Maybe doesn't even deserve it.
But she can't stop trying. She can't leave it, or Vanya, out anymore. ]
I like spending time with you, too.
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[She hopes Allison reads it as a joke, because - there is only so far she can go, still, and that entire distance is spent on Allison. The others - they keep trying, they keep dropping breadcrumbs in front of her, and she keeps trying to pick them up only to watch them turn to dust in her hands. Is that a bad metaphor? It feels like one - but the only metaphor that makes sense to her is one that involves crumbling.
They keep saying they want to try, Diego and Klaus mostly, but she barely knows how. It feels like her desire to try dried up years ago, but...here she is, trying the easier path.]
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I wouldn't dream of it.
And it definitely doesn't get you out of covering the first round for this new place.
In case they can't buy hard liquor to the quality of their rave beer reviews.
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You can be the taste tester. I'll just start with a beer.
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[ A second later, another message pops up. ]
Good luck with the new job today.
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Thanks. See you later :)