forum O/O - ((closed))

Started January 12, 2019 by @blue_topaz

tune

“I think that’s the first time anyone’s responded positively to that statement.” Gwen twirled a piece of hair around her finger, her gaze resting on Marla. “You’ve got to admit you rock the hipster flannel better than I do.”

Marla slipped the phone back into her handbag and tucked her hair behind her ears, a pink undertone lining the majority of her face. “I disagree— no one rocks the hipster flannel better than you— but I’m flattered.”

“You’re being modest.” Gwen waved her off bashfully. “You should keep it. The flannel, I mean. Blue is definitely more of your color than mine.”

"I– I should- keep it?" She repeated the comment as a question, eyes widening almost imperceptibly. Which meant two things: Firstly, that she would now have an item that belonged to non other than the cute girl sitting across from her, and second, that Gwen would be in nothing but that tanktop (and bottoms) for the rest of their lunch.

Gwen felt her heart beat a little faster at the look on Marla’s face. This girl is going to ruin me. “Yeah… Unless you don’t want to. I-I wouldn’t force you or anything.”

And I’m definitely not doing this so I can look at you wearing my clothes for the rest of lunch. “Light colors seem to work well on you, but contrast is always good, you know? Eye popping.” She made a playful pop! noise with his lips, blushing furiously afterwards when she realized how childish she just looked.

Marla's cheeks burned, her mouth going numb for a few seconds. She had to tear her gaze away from Gwen's lips and pull them back to her eyes as she struggled to form a sentence. "Y-Yeah. Thank you– I didn't mean to sound ungrateful or anything, it's really nice– people don't really give me stuff often. Ever. I'm not used to it. Sorry."

“Well luckily for you I have a severe weakness for shopping. Expect to be getting presents a lot more often.” Gwen was extremely relieved that Marla had agreed to keep the flannel. But she couldn’t help but wonder how no one had seen Marla’s red cheeks and tried to steal her for themselves.

Marla bit back the dorkiest grin in all of existence, leaning forward to sip her huge drink again. “I appreciate it, but you don’t have to get me anything.”

“Sorry, Marla. Already made up my mind.” Gwen grinned, sipping from her le,onade as the fries were set down on the table. She awkwardly muttered at thank you before immediately starting to steal fries.

Marla took a fry, licking her lips. “Oh yum, this is delicious,” she commented, not noticing the unintended connotation that came with her words.
(Hhh I’m craving fries now this is not good)

(Lmao I just went and got my leftover fries from the fridge because of this)

Gwen choked on her fry, trying to stifle a bout of laugher. “Maybe don’t say that on a college campus, Princess.”

(Hhh lucky I wish I had fries)

Marla frowned slightly, then almost spat out her fry as the realization hit her. “Oh my god,” she said, mortified, “I did not just say that.”

“Hey,” Gwen let a small laugh escape her lips. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Marla buried her face in her hands, her whole face red by now. “I’m never speaking again…”

“It wasn’t that bad!” Gwen paused a moment. “Okay, so it was a little bit funny, but not never speak again funny! I’ll miss hearing that voice of yours.” She teased, leaning forward and stealing another sip from Marla’s milkshake.

The comment certainly didn’t help Marla’s blush, neither did the sight of Gwen leaning closer to her. She removed her hands from the lower half of her face, biting her lip. “Fine- only for you.”

Gwen pulled away from the milkshake with a grin. “I’m that special already? I feel so loved!” She teased. “Off topic, but this is a seriously good milkshake.”

Marla was an inch away from banging her head repeatedly against the table from the intense conflict this girl was causing her. “Yeah- agreed.”

(I think I’m going to sleep now, goodnight!)

“You have good instincts apparently. Everytime I order something new it sucks. I think I’m cursed.” Gwen jested, leaning back and rolling her eyes.

(Goodnight!)

(Good afternoon)

Marla shook her head, giving a soft chuckle. “Is your lemonade good? I bet that doesn’t suck.”

“I’d be whining about it if it was bad. And I have ordered this before. Lemonade is my go to drink when I’m in a social situation.” Gwen raised to glass so the light hit it. “Behold, the lemonade! Legend has it that if you look closely into the glass, you’ll see an awkward 15 year old me sipping lemonade in the corner at my middle school dance.”

Marla cringed sympathetically, even daring to reach over the table and give Gwen a pat on the shoulder. “Yeah, I can definitely relate.”

Gwen almost dropped the glass when Marla’s hand patted her almlst bare shoulder. “I appreciate the support.” Gwen smiled a little too widely for it to just be from the supportive comments.

Marla cleared her throat anxiously, withdrew her hand. “That’s— uh- yeah.”

Gwen was unwilling to let them fall into an awkward silence. “So is there anything you wanted to know about me? I know I’ve been interrogating you about yourself.”

I want to know what your type is. Specifically if you like girls with blue eyes and ridiculously light hair. Of course, se didn’t voice the thought, instead going for a more normal answer. “Do you play any instruments? Or do you sing? Neither?”

Gwen laughed. “Unless you call screaming along to my car radio singing then I’m afraid it’s a no for both.”

Marla snorted, amusement dancing along the curve of her mouth. “Right, got it.”

“How about you? You seem like a creative type.” Gwen munched on a few fries, casually sipping her lemonade. She silently congratulated herself on going a full minute without severely embarrassing herself.

Marla suddenly realized that she’d completely forgotten about the fries, and reached forward, her hand accidentally brushing Gwen’s. Electricity immediately shot up her arm, fireworks going off in her rib cage, but she somehow managed to piece together an answer that wasn’t total gibberish. “No instrument for me. I don’t sing much, either.”