The Untold Story of Texas and Lappland (Arknights)

Preparations for Disaster?

"Why do we have to get dressed up?"

"Going out to a fancy restaurant requires a bit more decorum than our usual attire allows, so dressing up is a necessity." Texas told the white wolf from her spot on the bed. She had wasted no time in getting ready, whereas Lappland had procrastinated until thirty minutes out over what to wear. Which led them to now, with one of them in the bathroom and the other lounging amidst the many pillows. Any hopes of keeping the bed neatly made were practically vanished after their last few nights together, where Lappland messed them up at any available opportunity. She wished she could be annoyed but . . .

Some things never change.

"But getting dressed up is so ugh! How are we supposed to fight in high heels and dresses?!" Lappland continued to voice her complaints, voice somewhat muffled. Steam filtered out from under the cracks. Water continued to run from the sink. The faint zipping of metal teeth from a zipper as something was put on was heard too. Her gaze drifted to the couch, where that white slip of paper was tucked into her jacket pocket. An answer had to be given eventually. But am I ready? The clacking of heels brought her back to reality.

Texas shrugged. "You should ask that question to the television producers, game producers too." It had always seemed strange that they expected women to fight in such clothing and footwear. Fighting was dangerous enough as it was without the added trouble of fragile heels and dresses riding up to an unwanted degree. "And if the evening goes well then there won't be any fighting."

The door opened, Lappland sticking her head out to frown at her. "You don't sound very optimistic."

Texas shot her a wry grin. "I suppose I'm just being cautious. Even if Reunion doesn't ruin the evening there's always the chance—"

"That Mostima will." Lappland finished for her.

"Yes."

Humming, Lappland ducked back inside. "I wouldn't worry about that. They won't make a scene. Not in a public place. It wouldn't be proper." The last sentence was said in a poor imitation of a posh accent (A/N: I'd say British but I'm not sure what counts as British in this world haha 😅).

"Hah. That it wouldn't." She agreed.

"You know we could always just ditch them all. Have some time to ourselves~"

She didn't miss the suggestiveness there, knew Lappland did it on purpose like she did a great many things. It was only matter of time before they talked about progress again. About when they'd be willing to take the next step. Texas remembered their first time, how it had felt like coming home. There was a certainty to it that refused to be denied just like a great many truths in her lifetime. I miss it but . . .

Her thoughts were shut off by Lappland walking out. In a strapless black dress no less. Texas stared at her girlfriend, taking in the smooth curves and toned arms. It was all too easy to be drawn in by the way the dress hugged those prominent breasts; the pressed bow in the design at the hip was cute without being overstated as it reminded her just how developed the white wolf was. Lappland met her gaze, a sky smirk popping up on her lips, those waiting lips that wanted and would want more. Her heart thudded loudly. Heat was welling up in that particular spot just like all those other times.

Flashback . . .

"Are you sure you're ready?" Lappland asked.

"Yeah. What about you?"

"I want this Texas. You know I do." The certainty in the white wolf's tone was unmistakable.

"Yeah, just thought I'd check. Consent is important." Their murmurs we're soft in the space between them. The ceiling fan spun lazily, breathing its cold chill on their partially revealed skin. No one else was home: the perfect opportunity.