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In which Mia Monroe's boyfriend is in love with another guy, and Demeter Story-Ohara proves to be the perfect shoulder to cry on.
٩( ᐛ )و
When the curly-haired girl walks into Snow Halation for the first time, all Demeter can think is, Gosh dang, she's pretty.
The thing is, Demeter is done with pretty girls. She's done with their soft hair and their bright smiles and their deft hands. She's done with their happy giggles and their button noses and their fuzzy warmth. She's done with how they're so, so pretty, and how they always seem to dump her because she's not pretty enough for them---in so many different ways.
She should be done with pretty girls, but there is something about this specific pretty girl that loops a lasso around her broken heart and flies her to the moon.
Strangely, the pretty girl is not so pretty that people would drop their cardboard-cup coffee on the freshly-cleaned floor just to stare at her. She's a melanin goddess in the most subtle ways, in the golden glow of her coffee-bean skin, in the pillow-soft curls of her ebony hair, in the chubby curves of her petite body. She is pretty, but she's the kind of pretty that could easily fade into a crowd, and that thought comforts Demeter, because maybe this pretty girl wouldn't be too pretty to be with her.
Then the girl walks up to the counter, and Demeter suddenly forgets how to speak.
Hi, you're really pretty and I am a hopeless lesbian who doesn't exactly do so well with pretty girls, is what she almost says, but of course, she catches her tongue in time, because wow, wouldn't that be embarrassing. So she steels her nerves, clears her throat, and what pops out of her mouth instead is, "Hi, welcome to Chilli's, what can I get for you today?" and the moment the sentence has left her lips, Demeter instantly regrets that six-month stint in Chilli's last year.
The pretty girl stops. Stares at her like she's grown two heads.
Demeter drops her head down on the counter. "Sorry," she apologises, hoping this girl won't turn out to be a mini-Karen-in-disguise. "Rough day." She's lying. It really hasn't been a rough day, especially since it's eleven on a Saturday morning and business usually only starts to get tough by noon. But it's easier to say that than admitting she sucks at chatting with pretty girls.
The girl laughs, dimples instantly poking indents in her chubby cheeks. She's got a beautiful smile---bright, warm, as comforting as hot chocolate on a cold day. Demeter can see the whole universe in her dark eyes, and damn it, these are exactly the kind of girls she'd sworn to never fall for again. "It's totally fine," the girl giggles. "It was actually pretty funny. I hope your day gets better, though."
It's already better now that you're here, Demeter wants to say, but she manages to rein herself back in, because she's tall and gangly and awkward and she's already embarrassed herself enough today. "Thanks. So what's it going to be?"
