Thread: A Place to Hang your Hat [AnnaBeth and Sigr]

Wait, Beth said, voice sharper than she'd intended, almost a command, so that when Alba turned around to look at her the younger girl flushed a bit. I mean, please? What was she doing? Alba was sore, had to be tired and had made it clear that she wanted to go to bed. Manners had flown out the window and if her grandfather had been there her outburst would have earned a sharp look and promise of an even sharper talk to come, maybe even a hand cracking across her bottom and not in the playful way he'd mimed earlier. Definitely from another era, he didn't consider Beth too old to get her bottom tanned if she needed it, though that hadn't happened for years. As she scooted to the edge of the bed, her nightgown pulled under her knees and clung tightly to her body, showing off her lean form but giving her curves just the slightest hint of a shape too. Your hair, she said, reaching past Alba's neck to touch it, the cool damp weight of it heavy across her fingers though she didn't really notice it because standing this close to Alba made her feel strange again. It'll snarl something fierce if you sleep in it like this, the girl said. Would you, could I put it up for you? It'll give it some big loose curls since it's wet and I think that'd look nice, or we can brush them out in the morning? Unaware she was doing it Beth had rolled part of her lower lip into her mouth and was chewing at it with her teeth, a habit that sometimes left her lips chapped in that spot and direly in need of some beeswax lip balm. She didn't want Alba to go, not yet, and realized she was imposing on the older woman's time in a way she didn't have a right to. Alba was a woman grown, not a girl like her, and she was a marshal. Wasn't that her badge and gun over there on the nightstand? She didn't have time to sit around like they were having a slumber party or what Beth's vision of it, based on television and daydreaming, would be like. Alba had serious business to do, was already a day late and would probably be another two or three if they didn't have the belt for her car in stock in town, and didn't have time to spend playing at foolishness with a girl. Beth knew all of that, knew all of that and dismissed it. Hard work and genetics kept her skinny but she ate her fill every meal and never went hungry, not for food, but she was starved for female companionship and knew that there were all sorts of things about being a woman that she'd never been taught or experiences she'd missed out on. YouTube hair and makeup tutorials watched clandestinely when Granddaddy thought she was studying didn't make up for it and the magazines like Cosmo on Vogue she sometimes got in town at the grocery store were confusing and showed her a life she couldn't really wrap her head around, couldn't ever have and Beth was okay with that. She just wanted, well, a girlfriend. A girlfriend she could talk to and laugh with and maybe cry over stupid stuff sometimes and spend time with and do girly stuff that she couldn't do with anyone else. Alba couldn't be her girlfriend, Beth knew that, but just for a little bit longer maybe she would pretend it was the same thing? I do really good braids, she added, lip popping free. When you're out riding fence and that mane is right there in front of you, you get pretty good at it for all it makes Ace look silly. Or sometimes I do his tail too and that's longer than your hair, but not nearly as soft and pretty, she added, reaching out to touch it again. Please? Please, Alba, and then I won't bother you the rest of the night. I know you're plumb tuckered out but I really want to and it'll save you time in the morning, won't snarl up as you sleep. Beth left her hand across Alba's shoulder, wrist almost touching her neck, as her fingertips rubbed Alba's dark, lovely hair between them.