"Yeah?" Natasha is dabbing concealer under her eyes.
"I was just so lonely. Irma went home to Chicago to see her kids. I could have gone with her but Mikaela and Kimberly had already made plans. The guys just talked about their wives and girlfriends all night and then suddenly I'm in a room full of people, utterly alone."
Natasha sweeps her blusher blush over the back of Sawyer's hand.
"Come on Sawyer," Natasha taps the stem of her wine glass, "You had better finish this if you want to get 'fucking a stranger drunk.'"
Sawyer laughs and knocks it back.
"Last kiss before we do lipstick and can't kiss without fucking everything up."
Natasha leans across the bed and gives Sawyer is a slow, deep kiss. She pulls Sawyer's lower lip between her own and bites it lightly before pulling away. Natasha slides on a long translucent dress with the constellations picked out in gold. It's navy and has fluted sleeves that hang all over her hands. She shrugs a green embroidered jacket over the top, ignoring Sawyer when she gently suggests that the jacket may not be essential.
The Midway is already busy when they get there. Lucia's giggly and loose on something Natasha says is probably G. She's head to toe in leather and all her friends are as lithe and gorgeous as she is. Sawyer quickly realizes they have put her in the same age bracket as Natasha. At first, she's mortified. But after about twenty minutes she finds herself thinking that although these girls seem delightful, there's a gulf of life experience between them.
When Natasha goes for her third cigarette, Sawyer pulls Lucia into a quiet corner by her elbow.
"Natasha told you what I've been calling you in our messages, huh?"
"Yeah, did she tell you what I called you?" Sawyer repeats her joke for Lucia, and she's surprised by Lucia's loud braying laugh that almost reminds her of Natasha's. It's weirdly endearing.
"Look, Lucia, I just wanted to say that I respect what you do. I often come on a bit strong at first. In school they always used to say I had a 'slick mouth,'" Sawyer tries to convey as much warmth as she can.
"Oh, me too. Everyone thinks I'm a shady bitch at first."
Lucia swings her arm over Sawyer's shoulder and gives her a squeeze.
Natasha comes back from the bar with two shots in each hand, and Lucia does a double take.
"They're for her, she's wants to me to get her drunk and, quote, 'take advantage.'"
"Come through, you fucking freak!" Lucia shouts, and gives Sawyer's shoulder another squeeze before shimmying off into the press of the crowd.
Sawyer starts to feel the effects of the wine and the shots, and guides Natasha to the dance floor. Sawyer closes her eyes and lets her body find the beat. It's not her favorite type of music but she finds the sweaty crush intoxicating. Natasha is a compelling dancer. She rolls her body and pouts and mouths along to the words. Her hair is gold when the white strobe flashes over it. She tosses her curls into Sawyer's face and grinds her hips against Sawyer's thighs. It's painfully slow. Sawyer can't get close enough to her, she wants to bite Natasha's neck and make her put on a show for Sawyer. That's very much not what was on the cards for this particular night, but there will be other nights.
Natasha never goes for a forth cigarette. Lucia keeps bringing Sawyer disgusting liquorice shots so they don't have to leave their little spot on the dance floor. Sawyer has never liked Lucia more. Natasha's riding her thigh, scraping her fingers up the back of Sawyer's neck. She can only hear fragments of what Natasha is saying but "stretch you wide open", "so wet around me" and "until you can't take any more" definitely feature.
Around 1am her head starts spinning, and the balls of her feet are burning. Her dancing has slowed to just raking her hand through her hair provocatively and shifting her weight from one foot to another. Lucia and her friends have so much energy, they look like they've just arrived. Natasha's equally energetic, despite running on nothing more than pop.
"Nat," she shouts, "Can you take me home?"
Sawyer heaves herself up the steps to Natasha's ridiculous attic apartment. It's messy, and she kicks off her shoes into a pile of old magazines. Her vision swims but she heads straight for the bedroom, using random bits of furniture to stabilize herself and push her along. She hates Natasha for not letting her get pizza, but then she remembers Natasha's body rolling under the lights. She decides that she doesn't hate her after all.
She sits on Natasha's bed, grateful for a few seconds in the dark. Her eyelids flutter closed. She feels a soft kiss on her hair.
"Sawyer, shall I just get some water and we can go to bed?"
"No," she whines, tugging at Natasha's hem. "Come on, you said."
Sawyer tries to bat her eyelashes at Natasha.
"Let me find you some face wipes, your eyes are going to be so gunky in the morning."
That was not the response Sawyer expected.
She takes Natasha's wiry hands in her own, places them on her shoulders.
"You've been jittery all day," She presses Natasha's hands further into her skin. "Come on."
Natasha closes her eyes, she takes in a deep breath and
