"Would you relax?" Katchoo demanded, mostly indulgent but with an edge of annoyed creeping in. Oh, and also paying no mind that her sudden urge to facepalm with a handful of charcoal crayon had left a streak across her forehead. "It's our dorm room, Francie. Who's going to walk in on us?
"Maybe on Hell Freezes Over day." Francine shook her head and wrapped her robe a little tighter around her shoulders. "I don't look like that." She might have the same haircolor as the woman on the easel, but the rest...
You do! You -- Geez, honey." Katchoo turned and angled herself to look Francine square in the face. "What the hell do you see when you look in the mirror?"
Francine was silent for a moment, two or three or a hundred conflicting emotions rumbling in her stomach. "Maybe one of us needs glasses," she said at last, trying for funny herself, but missing by a mile.
Katchoo hadn't gotten great scores for humor herself there; the guarded note of hurt in her voice was worth at least a .5 standard deduction.
"Maybe. Something's wrong here, and I'm not seeing it." She hadn't meant to crumple the edge of the paper, but clenching her fingers around the side of the easel would do that. "What's the hangup here, Francine? I thought you were fine with this idea."
Or she'd hoped. Which might have been a stupidly optimistic moment for her.
"I am! I mean, I was. I... I don't know." Francine pushed her hair back off her face, then had to scramble to stop the robe from falling down her arms. "I told you I wasn't so comfy with the naked part!"
Which single word she said so far under her breath that you'd think the dorm was bugged; she'd been less quiet when they were doing naked things in the room.
"I draw what I see," Katchoo answered, her voice cracking just a tiny bit. "What I see just happens to be breathtaking. Everybody else should see that too."
Chewie, considering you were there at the Puncture High school play, that was possibly the worst choice of words ever.
"Isn't most of Puncture High and half of Fandom seeing me naked enough?" Francine shot back, not sure how to deal with the compliment in there and thus going with the sensible approach of not dealing with it.
"It's bad enough when there's a costume malfunction or I turn into some crazy stripper for a day...and then there was graduation and my mom was there. Again.." Francine might have managed to face that experience down with something like dignity, but that didn't mean she ever wanted to repeat it.
"God, if she saw a naked painting of me, that I posed for on purpose, she'd.... I don't even know!"
"It's your life, Francine, not hers." Maybe it was easy for Katchoo to say that; she'd never given a good goddamn about her mother's opinion of her. "When are you gonna stop letting her live it for you?"
"I don't--oooh." The seeing red came on a five second time-delay. Lo, watch out for the flailing arms (and the slipping robe). "Really, Chewie? Really? If I let my mom live my life for me, do you think I'd be here?"
Here, as dictated by stabby fingers, was simultaneously this campus, this room, and two pushed-together beds.
Unfortunately at this point Katchoo was looking at the world through fairly scarlet-tinted glasses herself. It didn't particularly help that Francine being right only added to her irritation.
"It's still holding you back!" That was less flailing arms and more an abrupt but deliberate swing of her arm, crashing into the easel and knocking it over. "You're so frikkin' afraid of what she thinks of you, it's keeping you from being everything you can be!"
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"Maybe. Something's wrong here, and I'm not seeing it." She hadn't meant to crumple the edge of the paper, but clenching her fingers around the side of the easel would do that. "What's the hangup here, Francine? I thought you were fine with this idea."
Or she'd hoped. Which might have been a stupidly optimistic moment for her.
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Which single word she said so far under her breath that you'd think the dorm was bugged; she'd been less quiet when they were doing naked things in the room.
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Just, um. A lot of people. Shut up.
"You haven't drawn me like that before."
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Chewie, considering you were there at the Puncture High school play, that was possibly the worst choice of words ever.
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"It's bad enough when there's a costume malfunction or I turn into some crazy stripper for a day...and then there was graduation and my mom was there. Again.." Francine might have managed to face that experience down with something like dignity, but that didn't mean she ever wanted to repeat it.
"God, if she saw a naked painting of me, that I posed for on purpose, she'd.... I don't even know!"
Reply
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Here, as dictated by stabby fingers, was simultaneously this campus, this room, and two pushed-together beds.
Reply
"It's still holding you back!" That was less flailing arms and more an abrupt but deliberate swing of her arm, crashing into the easel and knocking it over. "You're so frikkin' afraid of what she thinks of you, it's keeping you from being everything you can be!"
Reply
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