𝐡𝐞𝐫 | dolores x oc (wlw)

07

You sat on your bed, feet dangling off the edge, humming a soft tune, while flipping through your book.

The pages were slightly yellowed from use and some of the ink of the words was slightly faded but that added to the experience of losing yourself.

Sometimes, it is easy to forget that you are reading and that everything is just the same jumbled up 26 letters projecting images in your brain. But that's also what's relaxing about it.

You were so fixated on the book that you didn't notice the soft knocks on your door until a head of dark curls with a red headband appeared from behind the door.

She peered hesitantly at you, "can I come in?"

"Uhhh.. sure," you smiled, blinking back into reality, still slightly dazed from reading.

She walked over with small steps, taking a look around the room.

"What are you reading?" she asked curiously, looking down at your book trying to find the title.

"Oh, just a book I found, nothing special really," you replied, holding the book up higher to show the cover.

"Cool, cool," her eyes wandered around more until she decided to sit on the edge of the bed, creating a dent.

She tapped her fingers on her knees, making up a random rhythm as she went.

"So, any reason in particular why you came in here?" you inquired after a while of silence.

A squeak followed, "Oh yeah.." she trailed off and took a deep breath, "the patterns on your hands are very pretty, how did you do that?"

"It's this thing called henna, it's a dye and when you put it into tubes you can draw very pretty things on your skin and it's actually really healthy to put it in your hair," you rambled, adding some hand gestures inbetween words.

She nodded along, intrigued, "do you think you could maybe draw something on me?"

"Sure!" you beamed, excited, since you hadn't had a whole lot of practice on anyone other than yourself.

"Let's see.." you put your book down, closing it. There was a single squished henna cone in the pocket of your old dress, that looked more like rags for cleaning down a table at that point.

You took the pin out of the end of the cone and gently took Dolores' hand and placed it on your lap; her hands were soft and warm to the touch.

"Anything in particular you would like?" you asked looking back up to her.

"Hm, I dont really know, you could improvise?" she suggested in a quiet voice, studying your features.

Humming in response, you began your design, squeezing the cone of brown dye as you began to create swirls and and dots and lines on her bare hand.

While you were focused on getting the pattern right and the proportions correct, her eyes could not pull away from your face.

She studied your looks intently, more than you ever studied anything in school. She tried to bite back her smile and looked back down to where you were working.

You made the last stroke and distanced yourself a bit from her hand to admire your art work. Proud of yourself, you beamed.

It had already started drying, and you lifted your eyes to her face where a smile was plastered from ear to ear as she, too, loved what you had done.

You made eye contact with her and kept it as you still held her hand. The world around you was silent and nothing else existed when you looked into those doe eyes of hers.

Subconsciously, you started leaning towards her slowly, or maybe it was her inching towards you or the both of you involuntarily moving together. But that doesn't really matter.

Slowly, your hands shifted and the butterflies in your stomach went wild.

Your hands placed themselves on her face, cupping her cheeks, and your lips brushed hers--

"DOLORES!"

Your eyes went wide, and you quickly shifted away from eachother, clearing your throat.

You looked at eachother sheepishly as Dolored shot up and sped away towards whoever was calling her at the most inconvenient time possible.

Turning back around to you, she showed an apologetic smile, and slipped out the door.