Fic gift for Crackfoxx! From Tasminalice.
Title: "Twisting the sun, I need to replace -"
Recipient: crackfoxx
Word Count: 1900 words.
Pairing: Naomi/Effy, Naomi/Emily
Rating: Mature (language)
Notes: Title and cut name from 'Re: Stacks and The Wolves (I & II)' by Bon Iver.
_________
"I never really got festivity," Naomi stated, taking another swig of from the bottle. "It all seemed a bit fucking pointless."
Effy winked at her, grinning devilishly.
"And Emily's not here - " She rubbed at her eyes, her vision blurring.
There was a silence, broken by the liquid thunk of vodka against glass.
"Ambleside, wasn't it?" Effy picked two cigarettes out of the pack, and tossed the empty carton into the wastepaper basket.
"Who wants to go to the Lake District in winter?" Naomi scowled. "It's ridiculous."
"The Fitches do, obviously."
Effy lit up, before getting up off the windowsill and passing Naomi the second cigarette and lighter.
"I mean, fuck sake. It'll be a shitload colder than here," she growled. Naomi's thumb furiously tried to work the catch, without success. Making a disgusted noise, she threw the lighter onto the duvet.
Smirking fondly, Effy shuffled closer to Naomi. Picking up the lighter, she ignited it on her first try.
Naomi rolled her eyes. "Fucking hell, Ef. That's a metaphor, isn't it?"
"Probably," Effy smiled, as Naomi leaned in and lit her cigarette. "You're catching me up, it's intimidating."
"I was never behind you."
"Not in the way you think."
Naomi rolled her eyes.
"Fucking hell, Effy. It's Christmas Eve. We're sitting in your room, smoking, and talking about the symbolism of a literary device and it's use in real life. It's pretty sad."
"Thought English was Emily's thing."
"Multi-talented, didn't you know?" Naomi grinned, taking a long drag.
Effy watched coils of grey-blue smoke rise hazily towards the ceiling, wishes she could take a picture. It's the impermanence that makes it beautiful. Without the ephemerality, it is ordinary.
"Do you know what'd make it worse?"
"No, but I'm sure you already know."
In response, Effy stood and opened her wardrobe doors, before tossing out a leather jacket.
"Come on, show not tell," she held out her hand. Naomi took in the fine lines, the slender fingers, the way she tremored slightly. Then the callouses and the nails, bitten to the quick.
Exhaling measuredly, Naomi gestured outside. "Ef, you might be impervious to the weather, but it must be below freezing and that is sleet."
"No more smoking for us, then," Effy mock-huffed.
There was a pause, in which Naomi's eyes flicked between the view outside, and the empty cigarette pack peeking out from the bin.
"I hate England."
"Don't we all?"
Naomi's gaze rested on Effy.
"I'm holding you responsible for my imminent hypothermia."
--
"Fuck you, Elizabeth Stonem."
"I expect so; how else are you planning on paying me back?"
"How are you not dead?"
"Heartbeat, respiration, etcetera," she smiled.
They were standing in the local video store, the warmth a welcome respite from the icy wind and watery snow outside. Naomi was shaking feebly, her hands were pale and numb. Although they were both dripping onto the nylon carpet, Effy seemed relatively intact.
"Hope you're not getting a rom-com, Ef."
Effy snorted. "Already got it sorted, don't you worry. I'm not about to ruin my impressive reputation."
Impressive reputation. Effy said it like it's to be feared.
"A'right," the gruff, bearded man handed Effy a plastic bag. "You two have a good Christmas. An' you tell your mum I said hello, yeah?"
"Will do, Kevin," she mumbled, her eyes darkening momentarily. "This is for you, as well." She pulled a small canister from her pocket, gave it to him.
"Make that one last longer than the rest, okay?"
"I'll try, sweetheart," he grinned toothily.
--
Stepping out into the wind again, Naomi pulled her coat tighter around her. Effy was watching the traffic placidly, her eyes flicking between cars. Her breath was visible, a white cloud.
Were Naomi warmer, she would have noted down the way it curled upward like spindly fingers, before disappearing into the gale. But in her state, it just made her want a cigarette.
"What was in the film can?"
Effy didn't answer, only zipped up her leather jacket.
"Spliff? Scat porn?" Naomi asked, pushing back her damp and tousled hair.
Turning to her, Effy's gaze was heavy.
"Thirty-five millimetre reel is expensive."
It took a moment for Naomi to click.
"Oh. That's it?"
"That's it."
Naomi looked away. "Sorry."
"Not my fault you're a full-time pessimist."
"Isn't it?"
Effy chuckled. "Wishful thinking."
--
Stopping at the corner store on the way back, Naomi received a text.
this holiday is bloody ridiculous,
can't wait to be with u ;)
hope you're as cold as i am
love you, poppet
xo
"Ef."
"Yeah?"
"She called me poppet."
"Good sign," Effy nodded, and bought six packs of Dunhills.
--
Naomi texts back in the liquor shop.
your holiday IS ridiculous, love,
im counting down, by the way, until your return;
you've turned me into an utter sap ;)
i am probably colder em, i am outside, being brave.
i love you too, babycakes (< too much?)
x
There's a warmth there that was absent before. A sense of permanence, of fixture.
--
They staggered in to the house, ripping off overcoats and turning on heaters.
"Not w-worth it." Naomi's cheeks burned with the temperature difference, her eyes streamed. Swimming with tears, she only noticed the blue, which reminded her of sky, and something else entirely.
Effy's teeth chattered when she grinned.
"Not so hard now, Campbell?"
"Not so able to function, either."
Trembling, Effy scoffed, "wuss."
--
"Fuck this," growled Naomi, after ten minutes of minimal change.
Standing, she pulled her jumper over head, followed by her shirt. Naomi tugged off her sodden jeans and grabbed a woollen blanket off the back of a chair.
Effy stood, and shrugged off her shirt-dress, cocking her head in Naomi's direction. Swallowing hastily, her eyes travelling the flat planes of Effy's stomach, the angles of her collarbone.
"You alright?" She heard the grin in Effy's voice.
Nodding, Naomi beckoned her over.
"Warmth, yeah?"
Pulling her close, Naomi wrapped her arms around Effy's back and clasped the indents in her shoulders, pressing them together. The initial shock of skin on skin sent both into renewed shivers.
Tremors. The word raced through her mind, like a rebel spark. Using her free hands, Effy took the blanket and wrapped it around them both.
"There used to be this guy who lived with us, said he was a mountaineer. He told me this story about how him and his climbing buddy got stuck at the top of this peak in the French Alps. They did this," she used her nose to gesture to the cover encircling them, "and survived."
"Wow," Effy scoffed. "Two grizzly, battered old men who hadn't showered in weeks, having a good cuddle. That's pretty repulsive."
"I know, right?" giggled Naomi.
"I wouldn't tell Emily." whispered Effy, "Obviously she's not the one to thank for your being gay - "
"I'm not gay, Ef."
She nodded, mocking. "Emily probably thinks it's her dazzling charm and kind heart."
"Or her former stalker-esque qualities," Naomi chuckled. "Her stature."
Effy laughed, and laid her head on Naomi's shoulder, in the little space reserved especially for her; (Emily can't really reach, still). Resting her chin on her mane of chocolate-coloured hair, Naomi is suddenly exhausted.
There is a drowsy, comfortable stillness. The rain began to pour steadily harder, creating a soft ambient noise. The lack of conversation was sweet bliss, the lack of silence was even better.
--
"Mulholland Drive?" Naomi makes a face, pulling out the DVD.
Effy shrugged. "Thought you'd like Lynch."
Shaking her head, Naomi made a face. "He's dark, enigmatic and totally insane."
"That's why I like him," Effy shrugged.
"Fuck's sake. Pass me a cigarette."
--
It was nearly midnight.
Naomi had fallen asleep watching Pulp Fiction, her head in Effy's lap. Curled up in a nest of blankets, she seemed so small, so insignificant.
Stroking her head absently, Effy switched off the television as the credits begin to roll.
Just as she considered getting up and putting her to bed, Naomi's phone vibrated in her pocket.
merry christmas, babe
here's to a wonderful year (;
see you on sunday,
i love you, so much.
xo
Effy smiled, before flicking Naomi's forehead, hard.
"Fucking - fuck off," she mumbled sleepily.
"Your special friend sends her Christmas love," she passes over the phone.
It's a curious thing, Effy thinks, to watch someone's face light up from the inside. Naomi's sleepiness disappears instantaneously, she is alert, awake and happy. It's infectious. Effy can feel her own heart speed up.
Looking up, she watched Effy's eyes become hard.
"I love her, Ef - "
"Don't."
"And I love you too."
Taking a deep breath, Naomi leaned over and brushed her lips over Effy's cheek.
"I'm not her."
"I know you're not," Naomi murmured. "You're someone else."
--
Stumbling upstairs, they crashed into Effy's bed. The sky outside is velvet, the snow reflecting the moonlight.
"Merry Christmas," Naomi yawns. Turning over, she studies Effy's face. "You don't want a gift, do you?"
"Course not," she smiles.
"I got you one, anyway."
"Christ, Nay."
"Nothing overdone, I promise."
Reaching into her bag, Naomi fumbled around. Pulling out an object and hugging it to her chest, out of sight, she grins.
"This is overdone."
"Don't be such a pessimist," she winked.
"I can't think where I get it from."
"Shut up," Naomi laughs, and handed Effy an old, mint-condition copy of Alice in Wonderland.
Effy doesn't speak, only turns the book over in her hands. Her lips broke into a warm, wondrous smile, the red-gold cover sparkled in the half light. Opening the book, she gently glazed the worn, yellowing paper.
"I thought you'd take the piss," Naomi admits softly.
"I love it, you stupid wanker."
--
Lying under the covers later that night, Effy's arm is around her waist, and her cheek is nestled into Naomi's collar. Effy radiates a huge amount of warmth, generating enough heat for them both.
Amidst a dream - perhaps a nightmare - Effy clutched at Naomi's shirt, pulling against her shoulder blades. Her eyelids flickered, eyebrows draw together, and her lips go to mouth silent words.
Pulling back, Naomi watched her face contort slightly. A small murmur arose in Effy's throat, and her grip got stronger, more urgent. A louder noise, an almost recognisable word. Don't, Naomi thinks it could be. She began to shake, her muscles tensing and contracting.
Wrapping her arms around Effy, she whispered softly.
"It's okay," Naomi's mouth is dry from smoking so much. "Ef, wake up. You're okay."
Almost imperceptibly, Effy jerked awake.
"Sorry," she mutters, feeling the indents in the skin on Naomi's back.
"What was it about?"
Sighing deeply, Effy shook her head. "Don't remember."
"Alright," Naomi pulled her closer.
Effy snuggled into to her again, willing her breathing to even and deepen. Knows that Naomi will be there when she wakes.
--
It feels like a reward, for getting it right. Something she is becoming increasingly better at doing.
--
It's not too much, nor too little, Naomi thinks. It's not exactly the right amount of love, either; that which levels into her. It's what she needs, and what she can't stop needing.
Recipient: crackfoxx
Word Count: 1900 words.
Pairing: Naomi/Effy, Naomi/Emily
Rating: Mature (language)
Notes: Title and cut name from 'Re: Stacks and The Wolves (I & II)' by Bon Iver.
_________
"I never really got festivity," Naomi stated, taking another swig of from the bottle. "It all seemed a bit fucking pointless."
Effy winked at her, grinning devilishly.
"And Emily's not here - " She rubbed at her eyes, her vision blurring.
There was a silence, broken by the liquid thunk of vodka against glass.
"Ambleside, wasn't it?" Effy picked two cigarettes out of the pack, and tossed the empty carton into the wastepaper basket.
"Who wants to go to the Lake District in winter?" Naomi scowled. "It's ridiculous."
"The Fitches do, obviously."
Effy lit up, before getting up off the windowsill and passing Naomi the second cigarette and lighter.
"I mean, fuck sake. It'll be a shitload colder than here," she growled. Naomi's thumb furiously tried to work the catch, without success. Making a disgusted noise, she threw the lighter onto the duvet.
Smirking fondly, Effy shuffled closer to Naomi. Picking up the lighter, she ignited it on her first try.
Naomi rolled her eyes. "Fucking hell, Ef. That's a metaphor, isn't it?"
"Probably," Effy smiled, as Naomi leaned in and lit her cigarette. "You're catching me up, it's intimidating."
"I was never behind you."
"Not in the way you think."
Naomi rolled her eyes.
"Fucking hell, Effy. It's Christmas Eve. We're sitting in your room, smoking, and talking about the symbolism of a literary device and it's use in real life. It's pretty sad."
"Thought English was Emily's thing."
"Multi-talented, didn't you know?" Naomi grinned, taking a long drag.
Effy watched coils of grey-blue smoke rise hazily towards the ceiling, wishes she could take a picture. It's the impermanence that makes it beautiful. Without the ephemerality, it is ordinary.
"Do you know what'd make it worse?"
"No, but I'm sure you already know."
In response, Effy stood and opened her wardrobe doors, before tossing out a leather jacket.
"Come on, show not tell," she held out her hand. Naomi took in the fine lines, the slender fingers, the way she tremored slightly. Then the callouses and the nails, bitten to the quick.
Exhaling measuredly, Naomi gestured outside. "Ef, you might be impervious to the weather, but it must be below freezing and that is sleet."
"No more smoking for us, then," Effy mock-huffed.
There was a pause, in which Naomi's eyes flicked between the view outside, and the empty cigarette pack peeking out from the bin.
"I hate England."
"Don't we all?"
Naomi's gaze rested on Effy.
"I'm holding you responsible for my imminent hypothermia."
--
"Fuck you, Elizabeth Stonem."
"I expect so; how else are you planning on paying me back?"
"How are you not dead?"
"Heartbeat, respiration, etcetera," she smiled.
They were standing in the local video store, the warmth a welcome respite from the icy wind and watery snow outside. Naomi was shaking feebly, her hands were pale and numb. Although they were both dripping onto the nylon carpet, Effy seemed relatively intact.
"Hope you're not getting a rom-com, Ef."
Effy snorted. "Already got it sorted, don't you worry. I'm not about to ruin my impressive reputation."
Impressive reputation. Effy said it like it's to be feared.
"A'right," the gruff, bearded man handed Effy a plastic bag. "You two have a good Christmas. An' you tell your mum I said hello, yeah?"
"Will do, Kevin," she mumbled, her eyes darkening momentarily. "This is for you, as well." She pulled a small canister from her pocket, gave it to him.
"Make that one last longer than the rest, okay?"
"I'll try, sweetheart," he grinned toothily.
--
Stepping out into the wind again, Naomi pulled her coat tighter around her. Effy was watching the traffic placidly, her eyes flicking between cars. Her breath was visible, a white cloud.
Were Naomi warmer, she would have noted down the way it curled upward like spindly fingers, before disappearing into the gale. But in her state, it just made her want a cigarette.
"What was in the film can?"
Effy didn't answer, only zipped up her leather jacket.
"Spliff? Scat porn?" Naomi asked, pushing back her damp and tousled hair.
Turning to her, Effy's gaze was heavy.
"Thirty-five millimetre reel is expensive."
It took a moment for Naomi to click.
"Oh. That's it?"
"That's it."
Naomi looked away. "Sorry."
"Not my fault you're a full-time pessimist."
"Isn't it?"
Effy chuckled. "Wishful thinking."
--
Stopping at the corner store on the way back, Naomi received a text.
this holiday is bloody ridiculous,
can't wait to be with u ;)
hope you're as cold as i am
love you, poppet
xo
"Ef."
"Yeah?"
"She called me poppet."
"Good sign," Effy nodded, and bought six packs of Dunhills.
--
Naomi texts back in the liquor shop.
your holiday IS ridiculous, love,
im counting down, by the way, until your return;
you've turned me into an utter sap ;)
i am probably colder em, i am outside, being brave.
i love you too, babycakes (< too much?)
x
There's a warmth there that was absent before. A sense of permanence, of fixture.
--
They staggered in to the house, ripping off overcoats and turning on heaters.
"Not w-worth it." Naomi's cheeks burned with the temperature difference, her eyes streamed. Swimming with tears, she only noticed the blue, which reminded her of sky, and something else entirely.
Effy's teeth chattered when she grinned.
"Not so hard now, Campbell?"
"Not so able to function, either."
Trembling, Effy scoffed, "wuss."
--
"Fuck this," growled Naomi, after ten minutes of minimal change.
Standing, she pulled her jumper over head, followed by her shirt. Naomi tugged off her sodden jeans and grabbed a woollen blanket off the back of a chair.
Effy stood, and shrugged off her shirt-dress, cocking her head in Naomi's direction. Swallowing hastily, her eyes travelling the flat planes of Effy's stomach, the angles of her collarbone.
"You alright?" She heard the grin in Effy's voice.
Nodding, Naomi beckoned her over.
"Warmth, yeah?"
Pulling her close, Naomi wrapped her arms around Effy's back and clasped the indents in her shoulders, pressing them together. The initial shock of skin on skin sent both into renewed shivers.
Tremors. The word raced through her mind, like a rebel spark. Using her free hands, Effy took the blanket and wrapped it around them both.
"There used to be this guy who lived with us, said he was a mountaineer. He told me this story about how him and his climbing buddy got stuck at the top of this peak in the French Alps. They did this," she used her nose to gesture to the cover encircling them, "and survived."
"Wow," Effy scoffed. "Two grizzly, battered old men who hadn't showered in weeks, having a good cuddle. That's pretty repulsive."
"I know, right?" giggled Naomi.
"I wouldn't tell Emily." whispered Effy, "Obviously she's not the one to thank for your being gay - "
"I'm not gay, Ef."
She nodded, mocking. "Emily probably thinks it's her dazzling charm and kind heart."
"Or her former stalker-esque qualities," Naomi chuckled. "Her stature."
Effy laughed, and laid her head on Naomi's shoulder, in the little space reserved especially for her; (Emily can't really reach, still). Resting her chin on her mane of chocolate-coloured hair, Naomi is suddenly exhausted.
There is a drowsy, comfortable stillness. The rain began to pour steadily harder, creating a soft ambient noise. The lack of conversation was sweet bliss, the lack of silence was even better.
--
"Mulholland Drive?" Naomi makes a face, pulling out the DVD.
Effy shrugged. "Thought you'd like Lynch."
Shaking her head, Naomi made a face. "He's dark, enigmatic and totally insane."
"That's why I like him," Effy shrugged.
"Fuck's sake. Pass me a cigarette."
--
It was nearly midnight.
Naomi had fallen asleep watching Pulp Fiction, her head in Effy's lap. Curled up in a nest of blankets, she seemed so small, so insignificant.
Stroking her head absently, Effy switched off the television as the credits begin to roll.
Just as she considered getting up and putting her to bed, Naomi's phone vibrated in her pocket.
merry christmas, babe
here's to a wonderful year (;
see you on sunday,
i love you, so much.
xo
Effy smiled, before flicking Naomi's forehead, hard.
"Fucking - fuck off," she mumbled sleepily.
"Your special friend sends her Christmas love," she passes over the phone.
It's a curious thing, Effy thinks, to watch someone's face light up from the inside. Naomi's sleepiness disappears instantaneously, she is alert, awake and happy. It's infectious. Effy can feel her own heart speed up.
Looking up, she watched Effy's eyes become hard.
"I love her, Ef - "
"Don't."
"And I love you too."
Taking a deep breath, Naomi leaned over and brushed her lips over Effy's cheek.
"I'm not her."
"I know you're not," Naomi murmured. "You're someone else."
--
Stumbling upstairs, they crashed into Effy's bed. The sky outside is velvet, the snow reflecting the moonlight.
"Merry Christmas," Naomi yawns. Turning over, she studies Effy's face. "You don't want a gift, do you?"
"Course not," she smiles.
"I got you one, anyway."
"Christ, Nay."
"Nothing overdone, I promise."
Reaching into her bag, Naomi fumbled around. Pulling out an object and hugging it to her chest, out of sight, she grins.
"This is overdone."
"Don't be such a pessimist," she winked.
"I can't think where I get it from."
"Shut up," Naomi laughs, and handed Effy an old, mint-condition copy of Alice in Wonderland.
Effy doesn't speak, only turns the book over in her hands. Her lips broke into a warm, wondrous smile, the red-gold cover sparkled in the half light. Opening the book, she gently glazed the worn, yellowing paper.
"I thought you'd take the piss," Naomi admits softly.
"I love it, you stupid wanker."
--
Lying under the covers later that night, Effy's arm is around her waist, and her cheek is nestled into Naomi's collar. Effy radiates a huge amount of warmth, generating enough heat for them both.
Amidst a dream - perhaps a nightmare - Effy clutched at Naomi's shirt, pulling against her shoulder blades. Her eyelids flickered, eyebrows draw together, and her lips go to mouth silent words.
Pulling back, Naomi watched her face contort slightly. A small murmur arose in Effy's throat, and her grip got stronger, more urgent. A louder noise, an almost recognisable word. Don't, Naomi thinks it could be. She began to shake, her muscles tensing and contracting.
Wrapping her arms around Effy, she whispered softly.
"It's okay," Naomi's mouth is dry from smoking so much. "Ef, wake up. You're okay."
Almost imperceptibly, Effy jerked awake.
"Sorry," she mutters, feeling the indents in the skin on Naomi's back.
"What was it about?"
Sighing deeply, Effy shook her head. "Don't remember."
"Alright," Naomi pulled her closer.
Effy snuggled into to her again, willing her breathing to even and deepen. Knows that Naomi will be there when she wakes.
--
It feels like a reward, for getting it right. Something she is becoming increasingly better at doing.
--
It's not too much, nor too little, Naomi thinks. It's not exactly the right amount of love, either; that which levels into her. It's what she needs, and what she can't stop needing.