No strings attatched

Strawberry Scented

The harsh glow of the screen illuminated her face, as she appeared engulfed by the sofa. She sank lower by the minute, her eyelids drooping slightly. I focus on her. Images from the screen were reflected in her glazed eyes, fixed on the story unfolding in front of her. Tentatively, I reach my hand to her plaits, glowing white under the bright glare. Suddenly, her fingers snatched out at my wrist and drags it into a kiss from her chapped lips. I giggle at the pricks of dry skin making contact with my baby skin. 

"Your face is red." Dinah remarked. My face burned as she stroked her willowy fingers against my cheek. She proceeded to press against my forehead, brows furrowed and eyes looking at mine. "Is it a fever?"

My heart hammered within my chest like a marching drum. I stare at her face, a breath away from mine. Her stormy brown eyes were flecked with specs of oak, and her pupils were large like back orbs. My skin prickled with the heat of her breath.

"Have you ever had a shitty haircut?" I squeaked, leaning away from her intense stare. For a second, her mouth opened, and then shut. Her head tilted to the spots of popcorn littered across the oak floorboards, and for a few minutes, she remained like a statue, frozen in thought. 

"...I had a mullet and an undercut." She murmured, slouching further as if she hoped the plump pillows would swallow her up. Her ears glowed red as she buried her chin into her chest. I stroked her plaits, noting the coarseness of them as straying curls popped out. "It was bloody green." she whispered in a strained voice into her hoodie. 

I chuckle. "That's it?" I snort. I meet her eyes, squinting as her neck craned forward in confusion. "I bloody well had a bowl haircut." I giggle, watching as she threw her head back into a squeal of delight. 

"What colour? What C-colour?" she gasps, eyes shining with tears. I heard the sound of her hand slapping her thighs in a poor attempt to contain her delight. 

I inhale deeply. 

"Orange."

Dinah screeched in half horror, half humour as she collapsed into my lap. The stench of strawberry slapped my senses as I gasp in surprise. 

"PwaHAHAHAHAHA noo-" She gasped for air before diving deep into fits of boundless laughter. Her hair slapped against my cheek, and slithered down my neck. I shiver, despite the whirring of hot air hitting me from all sides.

She gave out one more almighty caw before flopping onto the floor, swallowing air as she flapped helplessly like a fish out of water. With a final inhale, she curled up into a ball, trembling while tears weaved down her face.

A guitar blares out from the screen, cutting through the silence that pursued. Dinah rested on the oak wood, limp like a ragdoll save the irregular breathing that hissed through her teeth.

She crawls her way back to my side, curling up into a small ball so only her head protruded from the blanket she brought up onto the sofa with her. The credits had started rolling, so there wasn't really a distraction anymore. Despite this, I stroke her hair, running my fingers through the curls and knots that had formed. It felt dry and coarse, but it smelled nice, like a strawberry farm, so I didn't complain.

Suddenly, her tiny hand grasps at mine and held it tight. I hold my breath. She was cold, but yet, it wasn't cold that got my heart racing. I couldn't place this feeling quite well, so I ignore it. She huffs indignantly, as she buries her head into my shoulder. The room felt warmer. I didn't know what to do, really. 

'I used to play the guitar, you know.' She whines, as if this was her only chance to mention. 

I guess I went ahead and nodded at her words, while scrolling through my phone for a call from James. I was beginning to miss him. Maybe he was late from his shift?

'Are you the musical type?' murmured Dinah. She sounded tired as hell. 

'huh?'

'Did you play an instrument?'

I felt a wave of guilt for zoning out during her rant. 

'Clarinet in band. I skipped practice, like, so many times' I drone, staring intensely at the blank screen for notifications. 

Suddenly, Dinah shoots out for my phone, and succeeds. 

'VIVA LA DETOX!!' she screams, waving the device carelessly in the air with vigour. I grasp feverishly at her paws, clamped around my phone tightly. She hoists it higher, so that it's above her head at this point.

'REALITY IS AN AESTHETIC' she hollers into my ears. I reach up one more time, but I lose my balance, toppling over onto the floor. 

My fall was broken, but Dinah paid a price. 

I look down to see her underneath, face contorted in pain, heavily winded by my impact. She then stares me down, and begins to chuckle, but then hisses as her hand reaches to her stomach.

'owww..'

I roll away immediately, heart thumping wildly. My breathing becomes shallower, and my body feels warm and flushed. What is going on?

'Don't mind me... in pain... hopefully this is a good enough excuse to not hand in my essay next week though.' 

I spin to look at Dinah, who was slowly lifting herself off the ground, grimacing the entire way.

'Damn, that worked my abs' She muttered, crawling to the safety of the pile of blankets.

I was still wondering what was going on when I heard the click of the lock go.