CHARACTERS: Planchette Mun, Sunny Zelensky
TAGS & TRIGGERS: fluff, hairdye, wlw, lgbtq, f/f, 00s, goth
"So, what do you think? Blue or pink?"
Planchette shifts a little in her place propped up against the pillows, peering over one knee at Sunny. She's lying on the spider-webbed duvet so her head dangles off the edge, dark purple hair nearly touching the floor. On her exposed stomach, a cross-shaped navel piercing glints next to two differently coloured boxes of dye. She waves them in the air again.
Planchette blinks. "Whichever you want."
"Planchette-"
She examines the dyes as closely as she can from this distance, not wanting to move. "Uh, blue."
Sunny's teeth click against her snakebite piercings as she chews her lip. "I think I'm gonna go pink." With that, she sits up, smiling a little at her friend's frustrated sigh. "Come on."
"What, me? I'm busy." Planchette glances off to one side, grabs the nearest notebook she can find, and begins to write some vague nonsense down. "See?"
The notebook is knocked out of her hands as silver-adorned crutches crash onto the side of the bed. She hisses in pain. "Jesus fucking Christ, Sunny, be careful-"
"Stop whining." There's a cheerful glint in Sunny's hazel-brown eyes. "I need help with this. Where do you keep the bleach?"
"Bathroom, but I don't know if it's a good idea to use that on your hair."
"It's fine." There's a small tinkle when Sunny grabs Planchette's hand as their rings collide. "It can't be that bad. We've done it before." She helps (or, to be more accurate, drags) Planchette to the edge of the bed.
As she puts her forearms through the decorated loops of the crutches to grab the grips, Planchette speaks again. "But I thought we were matching? Y'know, with the purple?"
"I bought enough for the both of us," Sunny replies, as if that were obvious. "Hurry up."
That makes Planchette feel slightly better, but not enough to grace her friend with a smile. She stands up, supported easily by the crutches under her hands. "Fine," she mumbles.
Sunny grins — her smiles are always bright and cheerful, like her name. "I knew you would. This is why I keep you around," she jokes.
Black-painted nails click against the ends of the crutches' grips, the parts that aren't covered by memory foam. "Love you too. Come on, before I change my mind."
YOU ARE READING
A Handful of Stardust
Short StoryA small collection of even smaller stories. These may be written for writing practice, as sneak peeks of upcoming works, or just for fun. Specific trigger warnings will be given when required. COVER IS TEMPORARY; OFFICIAL COVER IS UNDER CONSTRUCTION...
