sunkissed, worldless

06

The sun long gone, long abandoned, there's barely any lights so most people resign into their slumber. Olivia blows out the flame in her lantern and climbs into bed. Moonlight pours through the gaps in the blinds, casts shadows against Olivia's silhouette. They're facing each other.

Adele buries her arm underneath her pillow. "Hey."

"Hey."

"What are you doing?" she asks, because she can.

Olivia mulls it over before, slightly amused, answers, "I don't know." She shrugs while lying sideways and it comes out more like a squirm. The blanket fluxes and she ends up closer than she was before. "Talking."

She has freckles here, sparse but still, blotched really close to the underlining of her eyes. Olivia's mother insists she puts on what's left of the makeup they could find and she couldn't be bothered to go hunting for scraps. Apparently it's uncommon for them genetically, Olivia doesn't even go out into the sun much.

Not in her youth, not now either.

"You know," Adele starts, clears her throat. "I think we'll run out of things to talk about."

"You can't give up now," she teases, but she keeps her face straight. "Or you'll grow up to be a really, boring, adult." Olivia has no qualms about this dullness herself, either she has come to terms with it or, has considered herself a bore in the first place.

"My mom used to talk about the new overpass they're building."

"And we talked about Finley's new transformer," she rebuts immediately, nods to prove a point. She's turning into them. The thought doesn't scare her more than it annoys.

Adele has much experience with opposing devil's advocate, gives her a petulant look. "See I was talking about an important rebuilding progress of our local community and my mom," she pauses for a description of her choice of topical chats. "Well, she's chatting about traffic."

Olivia pressed her lips into a taut line, seems unimpressed. "Sure."

"Okay, how about you contribute to stuff we can talk about?" She raises her eyebrows, more than a little bit playfully sour.

"I do," she says defensively. "Sometimes."

"Sometimes," Adele echoes.

"Fine."

"Good."

"So," she says, and the next part, her question comes out completely offhand. "When are you the most happiest?"

"What's this?" Adele asks perplexed but smiling, tilts her head but it ends up sinking into the pillow. She doesn't think you're supposed to be direct when entering nightly conversations.

"You wanted me to contribute, there you go." Translated: just answer it.

She didn't really mean then and there. Regardless Adele closes her eyes, ponders this for a moment, thinks about sleeping. It's 10 something or whatever the time is supposed to be. Time mustn't be real if she can't feel it, she argues. Before she could get a word in edgewise, Olivia interrupts her thoughts.

"You're happiest when you're with me right?" She hears her ego in her smile. They have that in common, at least to each other.

"Shut up." Her voice is stuck in her throat. Caught in reluctance she knows too well and wishes she doesn't. She turns and faces the other way to save face, but it only heightens the tease.

"Aw, it's okay Adele," Olivia coos, rubs the back of her neck. "I know you love me."

"You just wanted to say that," she says accusingly, which gets her to stop but she reaches for Olivia's hand behind her neck and holds it there. "We should sleep."

Her hand slips off from the crevice, and Adele feels the cold air on her bare skin.

"You're right," she says. There's a bounce on the bed as Olivia too, faces away from the center and their backs now against each other. They've known how awkward it is to feel each other's breath so close, and thankfully they decided not to stare at the other who falls asleep first out of courtesy.

Adele thinks she's the one who ends up being the creepy starer because Olivia consistently goes out first.

"Night, Adele."

"Night, Olivia."

Adele wants to add, I love you. But she doesn't think she could mean it anymore, not the way she usually says it so, the air falls silent. Steady breaths of Olivia asleep, she counts them until her heart beats quieter.

And as she drifts into unconsciousness, she remembers the smell of rose petals and irises. Doesn't know for sure if flowers really do smell like perfumes.