sticky fingers ; izzy & sage

I'm grinning like an idiot, 'cause if I die it might as well be with a smile on my face. Don't care much about going out with dignity but I'd like to avoid traumatizing my siblings. At the very least I'll show them how far a little sister can fly on broken wings.

The closet's dim and the scent burns. Fruity in an insulting kind of way, pretending at being pleasant when it's all corrosive. Her face takes shape in the shadows, and I rub a hand at the back of my neck to stop the touch from burning. She's pretty like an overcast afternoon and that makes my tongue feel clumsy in my mouth.

"Oh. Uh. Hello. I'm Sage."

Spoken like a girl who doesn't really know how to be one. I laugh, like that makes up for the way the words don't quite fit in my mouth. It's easier to figure out who people expect me to be when there's a few more inches between us. I'm not very good at the things I'm supposed to be good at.

She extends a hand toward me. I blink.

I'd figured this was more a hostage negotiation type situation but it wouldn't be the first time I'd failed to read the room.

I place my hand in hers, looking for the places our fingers could fit.

Then she nods toward my pocket, where my other hand still holds the pen in a white knuckled grasp and -

"That makes a lot more sense, actually." I give her palm a half-hearted slap, like I'd totally done that on purpose. "You've got a good eye!" I rake my hand through my hair, "Or I'm bad a pick-pocketing. Both are probably true."

I twirl the vape between my fingers before holding it out to her, showing off a little in hopes she'll forget literally everything else about this interaction.

"Guests first." My lungs ache with awful craving, but I'm already dead there's no point in not being kind, "Think this has a little something extra in it, or that trainer's always useless."

I squint at the unfamiliar technology, then at her. My smile melts a little more genuine. "You up for finding out?"