(she's got her own complicated feelings, emotions. a lot of it isn't easy to parse through. when she was younger, she considered something like this to be puppy love. something meant to be seen as an idle fancy. however, it wasn't something so easily ignored or forgotten despite the way that she tried to play ignorant. she's ignored it. lappland wasn't there any longer, things had already gotten more complicated after cellinia began to get herself more involved with irene. but that's a given, getting stuck by cupid didn't help. the rest....the rest also hadn't. it's a struggle to restrain herself from wanting too much while also not being sure what she's feeling. if it's real, if it isn't real. if it isn't real, then it felt too real even now where she finds herself in a dilemma of her own about everything.
wouldn't it be easy if she didn't have these feelings, if she could carry on the way that some might have about the resort with their navigation of it? some people didn't let themselves get attached, because to them that defeated the point of escaping if there was a chance at it. but not allowing that would also wear down any poor bastard who hadn't seen home in ages.
so perhaps she thinks briefly, they might be pathetic in their eyes. stealing away moments like this, lingering gazes and kisses in an elevator of all places while wearing horrible costumes. she's against the railing and wall in what space they have, her arms find themselves around irene's neck. cellinia does think about it, about how her heart leaps to her throat. uncertain, not knowing. she doesn't know what to label this personally.
she doesn't know if she even should label it yet the message itself was clear to her by then in what mutual desire is shared. if she doesn't say now, she'd regret it. that burn of her suit mark was telling her as much, the mockery as usual making her wish it would stop providing its own input.)
....we don't have to label it.
(not yet, she isn't running away from that. she's only being truthful, labeling it too early would make it worse. too late would only make it impossible to say what it was that they truly felt. finding the place in the middle for it is....tricky. what could she say? if she's truthful, who knows what could happen. the burn of her spade mark, her racing mind, the brief hesitation, and then she decides to hell with holding back.)
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wouldn't it be easy if she didn't have these feelings, if she could carry on the way that some might have about the resort with their navigation of it? some people didn't let themselves get attached, because to them that defeated the point of escaping if there was a chance at it. but not allowing that would also wear down any poor bastard who hadn't seen home in ages.
so perhaps she thinks briefly, they might be pathetic in their eyes. stealing away moments like this, lingering gazes and kisses in an elevator of all places while wearing horrible costumes. she's against the railing and wall in what space they have, her arms find themselves around irene's neck. cellinia does think about it, about how her heart leaps to her throat. uncertain, not knowing. she doesn't know what to label this personally.
she doesn't know if she even should label it yet the message itself was clear to her by then in what mutual desire is shared. if she doesn't say now, she'd regret it. that burn of her suit mark was telling her as much, the mockery as usual making her wish it would stop providing its own input.)
....we don't have to label it.
(not yet, she isn't running away from that. she's only being truthful, labeling it too early would make it worse. too late would only make it impossible to say what it was that they truly felt. finding the place in the middle for it is....tricky. what could she say? if she's truthful, who knows what could happen. the burn of her spade mark, her racing mind, the brief hesitation, and then she decides to hell with holding back.)
Stay. (breathy, simple, but honest.)