the secret of distance

Chapter 9

Notes:

"Sometimes the distance is what kills us. Sometimes the killer is what is said in frustration or what is not uttered at all."

—Alison Malee

"Hi." Her feet have carried her over to the tribrid before she can stop herself. Her voice comes out too bubbly, but she doesn't notice in her drunken stupor.

Hope jumps in front of her in surprise when she notices her, whirling on the spot. She immediately backs up almost the second she realizes the siphoner is there, and Josie resists the urge to close the space between them again.

"Hey," the other girl says, casual and cool, and Josie leans in without thinking, pulled to Hope like a magnet. With their anewed proximity, Josie can smell her familiar, forest-y scent of pine wood and some kind of plant she can never put her finger on. She nearly melts.

"I didn't think you'd come," she finds herself saying, and she knows she can't keep the awe and desperation out of her voice. She discovers that she doesn't care all that much. "Can I get you a drink?"

Hope looks around for a long moment before declining.

"No, thank you," she says, always so proper, and Josie wonders if she kisses proper, too. If she would be nice and sweet, or if she would press her lips to Josie's hard and rough, like she wants to devour her and be devoured in return. Would her lips lightly skim Josie's skin, or would they bite and suck, leaving bruises and marks as a reminder that Josie is hers and hers alone?

She shakes the thoughts away, feeling a twinge of hurt as she notices that Hope is looking anywhere but at her. The girl even takes an entire step back, as if trying to disengage herself from the situation.

Josie's body won't let her, and she finds herself stepping forward, too. Hope's eyes snap up from around the room, directly into Josie's own, and the siphoner feels a jolt deep within her abdomen.

"Where's Penelope?" It's too random of a question not to be weird, but Josie doesn't think about it for too long. She wants to touch Hope so bad, wants to hold her hand, wants Hope to never let go, wants to feel as though they're truly soulmates. She allows herself to imagine—in this moment—that Hope longs for her as much as she longs for Hope.

"Oh, we broke up," Josie tells her, shrugging nonchalantly. In the pause that follows, she searches for the other girl's reaction. Other than a single corner of her lips quirking up, Hope doesn't give her one.

"Are you okay?" the tribrid asks, her eyebrows furrowing in that considerate way they tend to do with Josie. Her fingers twitch at her sides, as if she wants to reach out, and Josie's heart squeezes painfully in her chest. She wonders what Hope would do if she told her that she never cared about Penelope romantically in the first place, and that she only wants Hope.

"Yeah. I'm fine," she says, with a casual wave of her hand. She can't seem to help herself from slipping up, as much as she wants to take the words back a second later. "She just found out my secret."

"Your secret?"

Josie nods, her eyes lingering on the way Hope's trapped against the couch. If Josie just stepped forward an inch or two, they would be closer than they've ever been before.

In her distraction, she fails to realize what she just admitted. Once Hope's words finally register in Josie's mind, she panics, plain and simple. The plentiful amount of alcohol that she's consumed all night doesn't help much.

She sways forward, her hand coming up to place a finger against Hope's lips, her other hand gripping her cup tightly.

"Shhhh," she murmurs, going for playful, trying to save face from nearly exposing herself. Hope freezes.