Chapter Text
“Girl,” Jecka groans, exhaling a wave of smoke from her cigarette and taking no care to aim it away from Nicole. “This is shit. Shitty fucking shit.”
“Weak,” deadpans Nicole. “At least it’s just the cramps. Imagine if you got nausea, too.”
Jecka’s eyes go wide and she places a hand to her mouth. “Don’t!”
Nicole smirks and digs her face closer to Jecka’s. “I’ll bite that cig out of your mouth and swallow it.”
Jecka shoves her girlfriend away. “Oh, my god, I feel green— I’ll bleed on you!”
“Hot.” Nicole crosses her legs and lays flat on top of the glass coffee table she’s seated herself on. Jecka glares at her from the sofa.
“Can you just...” Jecka sighs, sinking deeper into the sofa. “Can you get me a heated pillow or something? There’s one in my room. I swear, this is all of hell.”
“Anything for Miss Pussy Princess,” Nicole says, getting up and departing before appearing not much later with one of said pillows and tossing it at Jecka, smack-dab in the chest.
“Thanks,” Jecka huffs. Nicole lays back down on the coffee table, and there’s a silence between them before the latter breaks it.
“Need anything else?”
“Who are you and what have you done with Nicole.”
“Sorry. Need anything else, ho?”
“Are you fucking with me right now?”
“Bitch, does it look like I’m stripping naked on your fucking coffee table? I have like twenty pounds of pure sheep on this body.”
She is wearing heavy-looking clothes.
“No, I’m just...surprised?”
“Okay, then. Take my offer before I change my mind and do strip myself naked on your fucking coffee table.”
Jecka clicks her tongue. “Mm.... Hot chocolate?”
“Sure.” Nicole grunts and disappears again. A minute or two. And then here comes naught but the Messiah herself, bearing a mug of the shit that sounds so good to Jecka right about now. Thankfully, this gift is not thrown at her, instead passed. Like a normal human being would.
Rather than Nicole getting back onto the coffee table, she sits on the floor by the sofa and rests the side of her head on Jecka’s legs, which are propped on an armrest.
“Something is fishy here,” Jecka murmurs, taking a sip and immediately regretting it. Godfuckingdamn the existance of heat!
“Sorry, I might’ve gotten some tackle in there. Or an eyeball.”
Jecka nearly spits a mouthful of hot chocolate out. “Nicole!”
Nicole just grins.