token punk ~ trixya college/roommates au

twelve.

"I await your return, my love" Trixie called to her jokingly, making the Russian flash a smirk as she blew a kiss back to her, making Mattel's heart twinge affectionately.

"How are you feeling, then?" Courtney asked, "I'm under strict order to force feed you water apparently"

"Yeah, don't worry about that, I just tripped" Trixie chuckled, claiming her mojito back once more, "it's cute the way she worries about me"

"Cute is definitely one way of putting it" Courtney muttered, causing Trixie to barely catch her words.

"Sorry, the music is so loud, what was that?" Trixie leaned in, pretty certain she'd heard her snide jab.

Courtney, instead of confirming her words, took advantage of Trixie's tilted head and planted a kiss on her cheek, making Trixie jump in surprise.

"I'm jealous of you two, you know" She pouted, "I would've loved to be your roommate"

"I bet you would've" Trixie groaned sarcastically, leaning in closer.

"Not just for that reason you bitch, also because I like you quite a bit" She groaned, pushing the pink girl's freckled forehead back with her index.

"I mean, I can hardly blame you-"

"I'm being serious." She cut it, her expression suddenly serious, "I really do like you"

"Well...I like you too" Trixie replied, puzzled as to why those words felt weird as they came out her mouth.

The Aussie smiled, quickly reaching into her jean pocket to check her phone. About 2 ish hours had passed since that disgusting uber driver, and Trixie couldn't help but think about Courtney's reaction again. She explained herself, of course, but she couldn't help but be at least a little disconcerted by it. She also felt far more on edge than usual because of it, something Katya had distracted her from while she was sat alongside her. Now she felt like his eyes were fixed on her again, looking straight through her.

"I wanted to ask something, by the way" Courtney continued, putting her phone away.

"That sounds...serious"

"Oh don't worry, it's not" She laughed nervously, "well-I guess it is, kinda"

"Doesn't matter if it is or isn't" Trixie comforted, resting a hand on her shoulder, "what's on your mind?"

"I just wanted to ask...if you wanted to become like, a thing" She bashfully finished, twirling her ice around with the straw, "like, officially, that is"

Trixie blinked a few times as she processed, truly taken aback.

"Oh, you mean like a couple?"

"Yes I mean like a couple, you wanker" She rolled her eyes, "You're so dense sometimes"

Trixie tried to smile alongside Courtney, but felt her lips waver everytime she tried.

"So, is that a yes?" She asked, her eyes bright and excited as she looked across at her.

Trixie looked back at them, examining the paleness of her irises. There was a spectrum of what Trixie now considered to be attractive in blue eyes, specifically based on the markers set up by Katya and the uber driver who'd burned his face into Trixie's memory forever. Katya's eyes were beautifully electric: a deep vibrant blue that stood out a mile away, even the thought of being under the glare of such a beautiful gaze made her deeply flustered. They were such a polar opposite experience to the discomfort and diluted iris of Luke, who's eyes had not even the slightest sense of personality or complexity. They were a cold, watery void that was enough to break Trixie out into a cold sweat.

The question was, where did Courtney's eyes fit in? They were more washed out than Katya's, but not to an unpleasant or unsettling degree like his. There was something pretty about them, no doubt, but that was about it. They lacked any kind on depth. They were just...blue?

"Can we um, can we talk about this tomorrow?" Trixie fumbled, staring down at her drink, "I can't really think straight right now"

"I mean, is there much to think about?" Courtney replied curtly, "It's a yes or no question"

Trixie felt her throat close up as she struggled to think of an excuse. Every passing second of silence caused more and more damage, before eventually Courtney broke it.

"Alright well, fuck you too" She hissed, standing abruptly and storming off outside. Trixie tried to call out, but no words came out of her mouth. She was once again alone.

"Fuck you too" the words replayed over and over, morphing from the Australian accent she'd just heard to an all too familiar Californian. To her accent. The last words she'd ever said to Trixie.

TW // Panic Attack

"Great Job, Beatrix. Isn't that just fucking fantastic" Her head screamed, causing her to clutch her head in her hands in frustration. All she could hear was those words echoing louder and louder.

She suddenly became hyper aware of the lack of people with her, feeling every stare and footstep surrounding her, suffocating her in anxiety. She needed to go and find the others, because she felt the edge of panic lingering dangerously right now, and she wasn't about to have a breakdown in front of the bartender. She stood up a little too quickly, clumsily travelling a few feet before she slammed straight into a stranger, splashing part of each drink she was clutching over him.

"Woah woah woah" The stranger reacted, reflexivly catching her glass, haulting the drink momentum, "watch where you're going sweetheart"

"Oh god, sorry" Trixie muttered vaguely, not even looking up at the guy as she made a sharp b line for the bathroom. She slammed through, stumbling towards the nearest cubicle and quickly slammed it, collapsing onto the toilet seat as she began to heave violently.

"Fuck this, fuck this, fucking fuck this-"

She quickly choked down the rest of the water shed been given, attempting to repress the neasea. She then clasped her head and leant forward as she rocked back and forth, blinking tears back as she counted her breathing into a rhythm. Her chest began to ache aggressively, the air beginning to drown her and put pressure on her lungs. Why did breathing have to hurt so badly?
The tears were falling hard now, causing her throat to ache even more. Her head felt like static, violently scattering her thoughts and emotions until all that was left was one question:

"...why?"

Why now? Why here? Why after all this time? Why over something so fucking insignificant and pointless? Why when she had been so mentally stable and genuinely happy for the first time in her entire fucking life??

And why was it always her that did this?

***
If you're sensetive to the tw material, I suggest you read this last paragraph just because it's relevant to Trixie's character and isn't explicit about the attack specifically.

When I get motivated to write its so damn exciting lmao, I rlly do enjoy this I need to just be in the mood.