pure gold baby | denreze roleswap (csm)

10. hairtie

Her arms regrow remarkably fast. She's soon free of the numbing sterility that is the hospital and back at Makima's apartment.

It's too bad, Makima says from where she is looking through some papers. You got rid of an annoying one, but there'll be far too much paperwork to deal with tomorrow.

Reze jerks her head up. She'd been sitting cross-legged on the edge of the sofa, examining the odd wholeness of her new limbs. Paperwork?

The other woman straightens a sheaf of papers. It's pretty late; Reze can see the stars through the glass of the balcony doors. Somehow, they're more beautiful, more muted than they ever were in the countryside.

I hate paperwork, Makima says finally. Reze stares as the uncharacteristically strong word hovers between them.

Makima's eyebrows crease for a second before they relax, go back to their usual unreadability. It's frustrating, she says, to have to go through so many hurdles when you're trying to do good. She looks at Reze almost expectantly.

I get it, Reze says, although she really, really doesn't.

Seconds pass. Makima goes back to her papers as Reze focuses on teasing out dirt from between her nails. She punctures skin — bites her tongue as copper blooms under her nail. Papers crinkle. A fly dances around the tube light, buzzing.

One of the dogs sniffles from behind the couch. Another paper crinkle.

The chair scrapes against the ground when she draws it and sits. Makima doesn't look up from her work.

There's a slight grain irregularity on the corner of the table's wood. It gives her something to look at as Makima turns another page.

I'm a girl, Reze says. Her voice doesn't shake — she stares fixedly at the table.

Oh?

Reze looks up to see Makima's curious eyes on her. Her throat hitches, but she holds Makima's gaze. Nods as Makima opens her mouth and —

We can get some casuals for you when we next go out, says Makima.

Reze blinks — her eyes are odd and too wet and too dry all at once. That'd be nice.

Makima hums. She reaches behind her – undoes a hair tie from her braid. It loosens, her hair falling into a curtain around her shoulders and Reze can't quite look away – even as the other woman's warm fingers run through her hair, teasing out the strands and twisting it into a bun.

The band snaps into place. Reze's hand drifts up to brush the unfamiliarity of her bare neck. There, Makima says. You look perfect.

A shivering pause: Reze looks at Makima, all honey eyes and woman and wonders what it would be like to draw her onto her own body — feel that essence on her like a waiting perfection. She wants so desperately to — to kiss her, to be her — to bubble that warmth into her like oxygen. A sudden raw hunger rises up in her — she has to fight to keep her hands still, calm her heartbeat.

Makima's face is almost mournful when she speaks next. Have you heard of the Gun Devil?

a.n:  makima i hate u sm /pos. also plpslpls feedback itd make me happy.