LotS fic: Until Graduation (part 2)
There was only so natural you could act with someone when you knew what their breasts felt like. Cara (and some cannabis) thought that was where the institution of marriage had come from. ‘Wife’ was just short-hand for ‘I’ve felt this person’s boobs, in case you’re wondering why we’re so weird with each other.’
So Cara saw nothing weird when Kahlan’s only words for her over a day of studying were “I’m gonna watch a movie now.”
“Sure,” Cara replied, slipping on a pair of headphones and cuing The Smiths. She glanced at their shared TV, just to see if Kahlan was watching Music & Lyrics again; if she had been, Cara would’ve felt obliged to go to the common room so Kahlan could masturbate, or whatever straight women did when they watched Hugh Grant movies.
The movie looked familiar, but Cara couldn’t place it. She kept glancing up from her essay, distracted by the déjà vu. The cinematography was darker than Kahlan’s usual fare, the actors washed out in shades of gray. As much as Cara joked, Kahlan wasn’t really one for Disney cartoons and My Little Pony, but she did prefer rom-coms, old musicals. This movie looked like it was about handsy Catholic priests or something.
Then Cara saw Gina Gershon and it all clicked into place. She took off her headphones, saved her Word document, and dropped onto the couch beside Kahlan. “If you’re waiting for a dance number, you’re in for a long haul.”
“Oh, you’ve seen this?”
“Bound? Yes, I’ve seen it. It was on ABC Family the other day,” Cara replied smartly. She tucked herself beside Kahlan, like they were really going to watch Bound together. Kahlan wasn’t intimidated, so Cara said in her usual tone. “There’s a sex scene coming up. You might wanna fast-forward.”
“And I might not.”
Kahlan was staring at the TV again, like Cara was just a powderpuff that’d blown into her field of vision for a moment. Cara dug her short fingernails through Kahlan’s jeans and into her leg.
“What are you trying to prove?” she demanded.
LotS fic: Until Graduation (part 1)
Kahlan was straight. Straight, straight, straight. Cara kept telling herself that because she wasn’t sure Kahlan remembered.
Cara had been studying. Easy to do, since her roommate had disappeared with her sickeningly perfect boyfriend to a party that Kahlan insisted on calling a “social mixer.” Probably part of Kahlan’s drive to make everything sound boring. She called Cara fucking a handcuffed man with a strap-on an “alternate lifestyle.”
Not that Cara let her know about the handcuffs or the sex toys, even if Kahlan looked damned cute when she was scandalized. Cara wasn’t much for socializing. During the week, she studied. On weekends, she finished studying, drove twenty miles to a hotel her sister ran, and took advantage of the free room Grace had generously (stupidly) promised her to pick up strangers from bars. All where she’d never have to worry about the knuckle-draggers from her school seeing her in her leathers.
She knew how most of her professors would react to finding out she liked to be gagged and slapped. She was fine with keeping the two worlds very, very separate. She was even fine with Kahlan not knowing. She wasn’t doing the ‘in love with a straight girl’ business. The last thing she needed was to be someone’s college experiment, ending up in a letter back home about how she’d corrupted someone and getting enough religious pamphlets in her inbox to roll joints for a year.
She might’ve spoken from experience. But that didn’t count, she was a freshman back then and she’d thought Dahlia loved her.
But she did like being friends with Kahlan, even if she’d never admit it. Despite Kahlan being daddy’s little girl (she had a Disney princesses bedspread, who did that? If anyone was going to be sleeping on Princess Jasmine, Cara would’ve thought it’d be herself), she never judged Cara, not even in a hippy-drippie ‘your self-expression is so lovely’ way. After she overheard a phone call about Cara leaving her Agiel in someone’s apartment (and Googling what an Agiel was), all she asked was if Cara used protection. ‘Well, obviously.’
Honestly, Cara thought she scared Kahlan a little bit. If that weren’t the case, she’d have loved to share the details, since Kahlan was clearly interested in a bit more than whatever she got up to with Richard (and judging by the blush when Cara caught her watching fucking The Client List, that probably wasn’t much). But no, best if she just listened to how Richard took Kahlan to a vineyard and they got to stomp grapes and wasn’t that fun? Not that she was jealous or anything. Cara really didn’t care for liquor unless she was doing body shots with it. She liked being in control.
These convictions had been firmly in place until the moment Kahlan flounced in, buzzed enough to trip where the hall’s tile floor became the dorm room’s carpet and sober enough to catch herself on the bunk bed instead of taking a header. Cara looked up from her Introduction to Psychology text.
Kahlan was staring at her with a downright predatory intensity. “We’re watching Crossroads.”