|but it's heaven right now
she's everything a married man should look for in a girl
They're neither of them stupid. There aren't mistaken ideas of romance and fairy tales caught up in their heads. But it isn't a matter of convenience, because with a woman as interesting as Miranda, or a woman as beautiful as Liv, how could it be something so simple?
It is because they are in this strange unfamiliar place, but it is also because there is a thrill that runs between the two of them like electricity. Liv thinks if she saw Miranda on the street, she would still want to stop and fall in love.
She's not falling in love.
Liv prefers men, mostly, and Miranda prefers blondes, but they've found each other instead. "An elf and a man," Liv says, rolling Miranda over in bed, pinning Mir beneath her body.
"I am no man," Mirry says, laughing, and she kisses so sweetly that Liv can lose herself in nothing but Miranda's mouth.
Liv twists Miranda's hands above her head and licks a path across her collarbone. Mir sighs and wriggles and twists her wrists in Liv's grasp. Silk-soft skin underneath Liv's mouth, and sliding against the grip of her fingers.
"I wouldn't want you if you were," Liv says.
They aren't alone in having something and not knowing what to call it. You can see it all over the cast, pairing off, and some are private and some are public, but none of them seem to know what to call any of it. There's no need for definition; they have definition and details in shooting schedules and script revisions, and when they have a brief moment to themselves Ð well, they can both think of things they'd rather do.
It's half distraction, half relaxation, and in a strange place with strangers, they both take what small comfort they can get.
Mirry talks in her sleep. Liv never finishes the last sip of coffee in the cup. Miranda always forgets to clean the shower drain. Liv's feet are almost always cold and she presses them up against Miranda's legs in bed. Mirry reads over Liv's shoulder. Liv turns her music up too loud. Mirry stashes dirty dishes under her side of the bed and forgets about them. Liv can't hold her liquor. Miranda drives like a maniac. Liv doesn't remember to do laundry until she's out of clothes and then she pinches Mir's.
It balances out. There's more good than bad.
It doesn't end. None of it really ends, exactly, it sort of fades away and hovers in the background of their lives. No declaration that anything was over; if you don't define it in the beginning, you're left with nothing to dissolve.
Mir and Liv just slide apart, oil and water, and Liv gets married. Filming fades away and when they come back for pick-ups and kiss hello, the flame doesn't burn a fiercely as it used to. It still burns, but it's been tempered by time.
It wasn't love, but it was more than just a matter of timing.
Author's notes: 500 words, 100 words a section. For Vi on her birthday. I wanted it to be happier, darling, I did, but the girls wouldn't play nicely. I hope it suits anyway. ♥