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artificialqueens · 6 years ago

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Indomitable; shattering glass doesn't fix hearts (Trixya) - Dymphna

Hi! I began posting this on AO3 awhile ago but decided to bring it here as well since… well, I don’t know, it’s the fic I like most that I’ve written myself. I’ll be the first to admit it takes quite awhile to get to the actual plot but… bear with me guys! I hope you enjoy, any feedback is appreciated :) <3

You can find me at my blog @tropicaldepressionkatya

Who the fuck wears nude shoes to a hunt in the woods? Trixie couldn’t believe her own stupidity. She’d think it was her first hunt. When she glanced down at her feet, the mud was already all over the soft shoe. The fabric soaked it all up, and Trixie wanted to just take them off, preferably throw them in a fire as well. Unfortunately, she had made a choice. And the price was a pair of perfect nude colored heels.

So there she was, crouched, a once beautiful pair of shoes on her feet, her hair in a ponytail. She was chewing on the inside of her cheek, eyes not leaving the tree. The tree where the demon was supposed to appear.

Everything had led her to that point, and she was prepared. Salt, salt bullets, iron, even. The thing about demons was that they responded differently to certain things. Salt always kept them out, but couldn’t always kill them. Iron only worked on some.

After Trixie had seen a hunter with angel blood kill a demon, she had cursed her own parents for not sleeping with angels. The runes, which apart from looking amazing, also made them better at, let’s say, everything. They had knives and swords that were given to them by the angels themselves, buzzing with light and slicing through the demons with ease. After a hit in the chest, they crawled back to where they came from.

Trixie was jealous, but she couldn’t change her blood type and decided to let it go. She had killed plenty of demons all on her own, without runes and fancy knives. She was an amazing hunter, even though working alone could get her killed faster than she’d like.

Her legs and knees were beginning to hurt, the demon hadn’t showed up yet. Beginning to get impatient, Trixie cocked her gun, checking the bullets, cleaning her knives.

“Did you hear that?” Someone hissed, a little too loud, to be sneaky. “Someone is here.”

Changing the position of her feet, Trixie stopped breathing, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from.

“It’s probably nothing. Let’s get this over with.” She exhaled again

Two women walked towards the small open spot, the tree in the middle. Big, majestic, demonic. Probably all Trixie’s favorite things, it just missed some pink.

The smaller one, wild curls bouncing as she glanced around, reached for a bottle, which she sprinkled over the tree. Trixie caught a glimpse of a tattoo. She had no idea what they were doing. The other woman, a little taller, wearing a tight dress and black pumps, almost tripped a couple of times, before she lighted a match.

Trixie liked to think she was pretty smart, but she didn’t realize that the girls were going to light the demon tree – her demon tree –on fire until the match was thrown towards the tree.

“What the fuck?!” Trixie jumped up, her voice a low growl. “Do you have any idea what the fuck you’ve just done?!” She yelled, grabbing her gun and cocking it again.

“Oh my-“

The smallest girl also pulled out a gun, black and modern, yet not a revolver. Trixie knew her bullets wouldn’t kill a human, but the long shaft looked intimidating.

The taller blonde, apparently a lot slower than her friend, pulled a machete from her back. The fire reflected on the metal. It seemed so close, too close. Trixie might have been angry, but her job was protecting the mundane, so she lunged forwards, yanking the smallest girl closer to her. “Watch out! Your fucking fire is gonna bite your asses.”

Stunned, they looked back. Just shortly, but Trixie had lowered her gun. “I hope you know that this town is seriously fucked now, it’s y’all’s fault.”

“We actually saved the town!” The blonde called, machete loosely dangling in her hand. “You don’t know what we’re talking about.”

“Whatever,” Trixie put away her gun. “I’ll drop a flower on your grave.” She turned her back to the girls, jogging away. The girls wouldn’t hurt her. Not when she saved them from getting severe burns. Trixie thought it was weird they carried weapons, but consumed by anger and annoyance, she didn’t think to give it, or them, any attention.

“Is she wearing nude shoes? Out of fabric? Is she stupid?”

Throwing the shoes back into the sink, Trixie rubbed her eyes, sighing. As expected, those shoes were ruined. Now all she had was a pair of pink and white cowboy boots and a selection of ugly black and blue pumps. After she’d saved the town from the demons that were going to flood the town, she’d go shopping. Her formal wear was beginning to thin, all her nice clothes destroyed during working hours. So there she was, in black jeans and an orange sweater. She hated that sweater. It tickled her all the time, and by the end of the day, her skin would be red and itchy.

The sun was beginning to rise, and Trixie realized she had lost another night of sleep to working and not being able to sleep. The coffee maker was way too loud, deafening almost, in the quiet motel. She didn’t like coffee, but the lack of tropical redbull forced her to do things she didn’t like.

Slipping into her white boots, Trixie took her shoes, strutting through the hallway. The lights were on, but there was no sound, no living soul in sight.

The dumpster next to the motel doors were something that had put Trixie off at first, but it was the closest to the woods and the city. After all, it was convenient. From where she was standing, she could see a crushed wall and an obvious hole in the roof. She hoped no one was dumb enough to use those rooms.

She dropped the shoes in the dumpster, sighing once again before she turned around.

“What is a pretty lady like you doing up so early?” Trixie had almost bumped into a tall man. He had a lot of muscles, and light hair. Generally speaking, he was attractive.

“Not just appearing and scarring other pretty ladies.” Trixie didn’t mean to snap, but his gaze held something offputting and empty. She tried to brush past him, but he spoke again.

“Come on, we’re already here, let’s make the most of it.” His voice was deep, but missed the warmth Trixie liked.

“I have an appointment in two hours.”

“Oh, with a boyfriend?” He teased, and Trixie turned fully back to the man. Her face was blank, something she always had been able to do. Resting bitchface, people said. Others said she was just a bitch.

“No, with the police. I’m helping them.” Trixie was bluffing, but she had a certain confidence, one that people simply couldn’t ignore.

“Oh,” His voice dropped in volume. “What are you investigating, hm?”

“Classified,” Trixie smiled, waving. “I’m going to get ready now.” The man didn’t say anything else.

Closing and locking the door behind her, the coffee maker was done, and she poured herself a cup. The key to delicious coffee was lots of sugar and milk. A lot of it.

Walking over to her suitcase, Trixie frowned. FBI clothing. Her last formal skirt was covered in blood stains, after she had raided a vampire nest a few weeks ago. She really needed to go shopping.

Since she didn’t have much choice, she picked a dark pant suit. One of the few positive things about it was that she had a pocket for her lipstick.

Moving to the small bathroom with her mug in her hand, clothes over her arm, and shampoo bottle in her other hand, she bumped the door open with her hip.

She’d been in the motel for a few days, so she knew the water took ages to heat up. So Trixie turned on the shower, carefully hanging the clothes over the sink as she sipped the last of her coffee. The motel towels were crappy, they always were, but bringing her own was just something she couldn’t afford. She was usually on the road, anyway. The apartment she owned in California was just collecting dust. She hadn’t been there in four months.

But having a place where she could stack all of her stuff, her books, her bills, and pictures was nice. She planned on going back for some time after her current job.

She stepped into the shower, the water turning dark with dirt almost immediately. Her feet and legs had been gross, covered in dirt. She’s washed most off when she got back, but dirt was annoying like that.

Her flowery and over-expensive shampoo covered the smells of her adventure and the lack of sleep, even though her makeup was going to finish that job.

Whatever she had to do, she would. She was going to fix the mistakes of the girls in the woods. She didn’t have a choice, really. She wouldn’t run away, even though it’d probably be safer.

“Miss Johnson?” Trixie turned at the sound of her fake name. When she was an FBI agent, she was Jessica Johnson, a widow. “Your coworkers have arrived.”

“I-“ Trixie bit her tongue, offering the officer a polite smile. “They’re here sooner than expected. Delayed flight,” She explained. “Could I talk to them for a minute?”

“Of course, they’re with officer White.” He said. “I’ll take you, Johnson.”

“Please, call me Jessica.” Trixie followed the man, wondering if they were real agents. Her fake ID was convincing, but with the shoes she picked, she’d never be fast enough to outrun an agent.

“Well, here they are. If it’s fishy…” He trailed off, clearing his throat. “Call me when you’re done, okay?”

Trixie closed the door behind her. The doors in the whole building were rather heavy. Trixie wondered why that was. But when she spotted the two agents, it was a good thing the doors were heavy.

She pulled her gun, pointing it at the woman with wild curls. The blonde pulled her gun a little later.

“What are you doing here?” Trixie snapped. “You set a very special tree on fire, no way they would let two idiots be FBI agents.” Trixie slowly cocked the gun, her eyes following every movement of the girls.

“We are,” The blonde spat back. “I’m going to reach in my pocket, grab my ID.”

Trixie nodded, balancing her focus over the blonde and the girl with dark hair. The blonde fished out an ID, it looked real enough. Then again, so did hers. “Isabel?”

“The one and only,” Isabel lowered her gun. “That’s Rose.”

“Sounds like the fakest names ever,” Trixie scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I’m the FBI agent. Y’all are imposters.”

Rose scoffed at the same tone as Trixie. “Well, girl, what was a real FBI agent doing in the freaking woods at night? Alone?”

“Important stuff, but that’s-“ The door was flung open, startling Trixie, who turned to the person. It was the man from that morning. “What the-“

Even though the man only hit her with one hand, his power was enormous. As she was being thrown against the floor, she realized that it was a demon. Her vision got blurry, the air was slammed out of her lungs. She needed to get up. She needed to protect the girls.

She forced herself up, slightly dizzy, but she had fought in worse shape. The blonde girl, who Trixie had written off as not so bright and slow, had a blade in her hand. Trixie would recognize blades like that everywhere. Freaking angel bloods. Of course they were, no one else would be as stupid to burn a demon portal tree. The other girl, Rose, reached for a weapon, but the man – demon – hit her with his fist, full against her head.

“Shangela!” The blonde called out through gritted teeth. Trixie’s head was too messed up to connect the dots. She didn’t care, anyway. It didn’t matter who these girls were, as long as they would be alive when Trixie left the building, trying to come up with a great lie.

She cocked her gun, the metal cold against her warm fingertips. She could feel blood drip down her neck. The blonde girl lunged away from the demon, hissing when he clawed at her skin.

Narrowing her eyes, Trixie had trouble keeping the gun straight, seeing straight. She shot. She was pointing at the demon’s head, but missed. It hit him in the shoulder, an unnatural sound leaving his mouth. Even if he was just distracted for a moment, the blonde lady, Isabel, jumped back forwards, slamming her fancy knife into the demon’s chest. With much more strength that Trixie thought was possible for a skinny thing like Isabel, she repeated the action multiple times, until the man opened his mouth, the demon circling out before vanishing with an agonizing scream.

Isabel was panting, dropping the dead body and rushing to Rose, or Shangela’s, side. “Hey,” She whispered, so softly that if Trixie had been standing two steps back, she wouldn’t have heard it. She wouldn’t have heard the desperation, fear and slight crack in her voice. “Shangela, Shangie, are you there?”

Trixie wondered how no one had noticed a gunshot or the obvious sounds of a fight. She just assumed the walls were soundproof. She hurried to the door, seeing a few officers frown at her. She smiled politely, closing the door again. Getting that body out would be a problem.

“Is she alright?”

“Fuck no,” The blonde snapped. Trixie was almost sure her name wasn’t Isabel. “Damn it, why did I leave my Steele in the hotel?” She ran a hand through her hair, biting her lip before getting up in frustration. She kicked one of the chairs before a few creative and impressive cuss words left her mouth.

“That isn’t gonna solve anything,” Trixie bit at the woman. She moved closer, her first-aid classes coming back. She had plenty of experience with wounds. Her head had stopped spinning, and the blood hadn’t dropped onto the floor, so she knew she was good. Better than the girl – Shangela, she assumed – on the floor.

After a quick glance, she knew the woman needed a hospital, or a real doctor, at least. She remained calm, speaking slowly to not alert the other girl. “She probably has a concussion. I can’t tell if she’ll wake up all by herself. I think she needs a doctor.”

“Okay, okay,” The girl breathed out, returning by her friend’s side. “Hear that Shangela? We’re gonna call Pep for you.”

“Who the hell-”

“Did I fucking ask you anything?” The blonde snapped probably harder than she intended to. She released another shaky breath. “I’m sorry, I’m really frustrated. I can’t carry her all by myself. Could you please help me?”

“My Jeep is outside,” Trixie said, looking at the still unconscious body. “But the body. We can’t become wanted after y’all burned a demon portal.”

Isabel closed her eyes, grinding her teeth. “Fine. I’ll take care of the body. Can you cause some distraction?”

“Isabel,” Trixie smiled. “Distraction is my second name.”

From the corner of her eye, Trixie could see the younger woman drag the body behind her, doing surprisingly well for her slim and breakable form. The officers were gathered around her as she clutched her forehead. The wound wasn’t deep, but stretched long enough over her face to worry some. Her agonizing groans were rather convincing, and men were always looking for a damsel in distress.

“I- it was a man! How did you not see him?! He rushed over there!” Tears were streaming over her face, and Trixie was amazed at how amazing she was doing. “Please, he said he was going to kill me!”

Several officers shuffled away, to the direction Trixie pointed at. Two stayed by her side. “Miss, it’s going to be okay. Come with us, we’ll make some phone calls-”

“No, no,” Trixie wiped her tears away. “I- I should go home.” Trixie wiped at the last tears. “I’m okay, I’ll be okay. I just… need to get out of here.”

“I understand, miss,” One officer said softly, a soothing tone to his voice. “Should I go and grab your purse?” He already was moving towards the door when Trixie saw Isabel hurrying back inside.

“No!” Trixie cleared her throat, hoping her voice would break just a little. “It’s fine, I can do that myself. Can you please help him get behind bars?” The innocent flutter of eyelashes broke something in the man, his eyes softening. It wasn’t the best thing for an officer.

“Thank you,” Trixie sniffed, wiping under her eyes again, offering the man a smile. She got up from her crouched position, taking the offered hand before she slowly skipped back to the room. Isabel was already inside, A bright grin on her face. “Good enough?”

“Yeah,” She said, a hand pressed against Shangela’s arm. “Help me with her, okay?” Trixie didn’t even have time to brag about her theatrical skills and charm.

Trixie put the lady’s arm around her neck, gently lifting her to her feet. The other girl did the same. “So, I’m guessing you’re not Isabel?” As she groaned softly under her weight.

“Aquaria,” She muttered back, walking as fast as she could. Even though no one was walking in the main office, they didn’t know how fast they’d be back. The black Jeep was shining around the corner, and Aquaria let Trixie alone to deal with the unconscious girl as she opened the door. The two of them gently laid the girl on the back seat. She’d been out for a good ten minutes, and Trixie was beginning to worry.

Hopping in her car, the blonde was already sitting in the passenger seat, typing furiously on her phone. “Who’re you calling? We’re bringing her to the hospital.”

“No!” Aquaria snapped once again. She really seemed on edge, and Trixie couldn’t blame her. “How do you think they’ll look when they see her with all those wounds? With weirdly shaped scars? Too many questions. Besides, Peppermint can get her back on her feet in just a few hours.”

Aquaria pressed call, and was getting frustrated pretty fast. Trixie watched the girl on the backseat with caution and worry. She hoped this Peppermint person was as talented as Aquaria claimed her to be. If she wasn’t, Shangela would be dead by morning, she guessed. But Trixie felt like she couldn’t argue. Shangela had angel blood, after all.

“Okay,” Aquaria breathed out. “Here left. Pep will be there in half an hour.”

“That’s fast, where’s she from?”

“She’s in France, right now,” Aquaria glanced at Shangela, her curls decorating the last seat. “She needs to set up a portal, but she loves us. We’d do anything for her, and so would she.”

Trixie decided to say nothing. So Peppermint was going to travel by portal. Right. Sure. Whatever.

Trixie followed Aquaria’s direction, parked in front of a rather fancy looking hotel, at least in comparison to her motel, and helped carry the brunette to their room. Room 015, first floor, luckily. The hallways were thankfully empty.

“Let’s bring her to the bed,” Aquaria opened the door with a key, and Trixie was stunned. How in the world could they afford that place? The kitchen was small and neat and the dinner table had 4 spots. The table was decorated with a white tablecloth and yellow flowers. There even was a rather large lounge. “Over here.”

Trixie followed Aquaria’s lead, Shangela’s eyes sometimes opening a bit. At that point, Trixie wasn’t sure if she was affected by the hit on her head or if the demon blood had been too much for her. The burns in her legs and arms had been big.

Gently, they placed the woman on the bed, which was big and looked incredibly soft.

Aquaria brushed Shangela’s hair out of her face with a fond look on her face. “You’ll be okay, Peppermint is on her way.”

Trixie felt like she didn’t belong in that moment, too intimate and familiar. “Wanna help with the hot chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate?”

“Pep likes hot chocolate. We’re kinda friends, I guess. We don’t need to pay her anymore, so I make sure we always gets some chocolate when she comes to the rescue.”

“Oh,” Trixie whispered, nodding her head and following Aquaria back to the kitchen. Now that there wasn’t an unconscious girl hanging between them, Trixie noticed that it wasn’t white and gold, but a soft pink cream color and bronze. The couch was one of the few shades of brown that Trixie thought didn’t look like shit, and the painting above a dresser had blue and pink tones that matched the walls and the kitchen cabinets. “I didn’t know hunting paid this well.”

She let her fingers glide over the dresser, which was spotless. Cleaned that morning, probably.

“Oh, it really doesn’t,” Aquaria smiled, opening the cabinet to grab a pan before moving to the fridge, which undoubtedly was too large for a hotel room. Aquaria’s mood had shifted, she didn’t seem too worried anymore. “You get creative, though. Lots of people die, you know. The unsaveable. We just…”

“Take their money,” Trixie finished. She hadn’t done that often, found it a rather disrespectful thing to do, and got what she wanted by lying, shoplifting, and going on dates to fancy restaurants. “I thought y’all angels were nice people.”

“Being nice doesn’t bring bread to the table,” Aquaria added some sugar to her mixture. “Can you close the curtains? Peppermint will be here soon.”

Since Aquaria didn’t say why, Trixie didn’t think it was her place to ask. She just did what was asked, muttering her questions under her breath, growing annoyed with the whole situation. In all honesty, she should probably go to her motel, try to solve the case, and forget about Aquaria and Shangela. But her curiosity was sparked, and if there was one thing Trixie knew about herself, it was that all questions should be answered.

So Trixie let Aquaria babble on and on and on. Humming or chuckling where needed. She talked a lot, stumbling over her own words from time to time, earning a genuine giggle from Trixie. It only took Peppermint about ten minutes, before she literally walked through the wall.

“What the fuck?” Trixie chocked out when she saw the light wall darken, the core so black, it looked as if nothing had ever been there. “Aquaria, What the fuck is happening?”

Aquaria glanced over the edge of her phone, an eyebrow raised. “Oh,” Aquaria dropped her gaze to her phone again, shutting it off a few seconds later. “The portal.”

Aquaria moved closer to the wall, a bright smile of excitement on her face. It was as if she had forgotten about Shangela. Or that she didn’t really care. Trixie shrugged those thoughts off, because it could just be her coping mechanism, and because it definitely wasn’t her job to judge whatever was going on between them.

A woman with black braids and pink lips stepped through the ‘portal’, smiling brightly as she spotted Aquaria. “Hello, dear,” Her voice was soft and gentle, and Trixie could imagine her hug being comforting and motherly. “What happened? Where is she?”

Aquaria led the woman to the room, and Trixie felt left out and unsure what she should do. It was a familiar feeling, even though she rarely paid attention to it. She preferred to work and travel alone, not wanting to take care of anyone, or being a burden for someone else. However, it did get lonely.

But Kim had warned her for that, yet young and dumb Trixie had been fueled by anger and fear, and she never thought about what it had meant, getting into the business. Now that she was almost ten years older, Trixie knew, and had to live with the consequences every day, sleep with it every night.

She hadn’t worked together since Kim, and even though she wouldn’t call saving Shangela’s live working together, she didn’t mind listening to Aquaria’s rambling, or the change of scenery. Sometimes, Trixie wondered if she made the wrong decision by working on her own.

“You okay?” Aquaria had her hair pulled in a high ponytail, the grey-ish tone in her hair more prominent now that she was opening the curtains again. The sun was shining, and even though Trixie doubted it would warm her skin up, it was pleasant to know she wouldn’t need a raincoat.

“Yeah,” Trixie gently shook her head, coming back from wherever her mind had wandered. It was a place she didn’t like to visit. “Is she going to be okay?” Trixie pointed at the door. The door was closed, and she swore she could hear a faint whisper.

“Pep is fixing her,” Aquaria’s hands were balled into fists. “She’s been through worse, Shangela,” The blonde let herself fall on the couch, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. Trixie could see the hint of dirt under her nails. Maybe it was blood.

“What about you?” Trixie couldn’t believe she forgot to ask that. Her social skills were rusting, that was obvious. The occasional hook up didn’t require much talking. Most of the time she was lying, anyway. She couldn’t be Trixie Mattel, often she had to be Jessica, or Isabella, or Alice. It was easy to forget who she was, even though fighting always brought her back.

“I’m fine,”

“No demon blood?” Trixie had a hard time believing that. Aquaria had been dressed in a skirt and the thinnest white blouse she’d ever seen. “Want me to take a look?”

“No, when Shangela wakes up, she’ll do it, it’s fine.”

“You sure?” Trixie carefully stopped herself from correcting Aquaria. If Shangela wakes up.

“Yeah, runes will heal it in no time.”

Right. Aquaria had angel blood. Trixie tensed up. “I can look at yours, if you want. I make killer healing runes, just so you know.”

“No,” Trixie sounded harsher than she meant to. “I mean I’m fine. I should just … go.”

“What?” Aquaria sounded surprised, pushing herself up and shaking her head. “Hell no, you’re staying. Wouldn’t it be better if we solved this case together?”

Trixie scoffed. “It’s obvious y’all need it, because you set a portal on fire.”

“Geez, let it go,” Aquaria chuckled. “We’ll work on that, it’ll be good in no time.”

“Let it go,” Trixie scoffed, pushing the tip of her shoe into the carpet, which looked too soft and expensive for an hotel. “I could be on my way home, but no, I might have to stay for weeks if it’s as bad as I think it is.”

Aquaria raised an eyebrow. “Weeks for closing a broken portal? Girl, how aren’t you dead yet?”

“What?” It came out harsher than she meant, but Aquaria seemed unbothered.

“I already texted someone from back home, she’ll bring some stuff and we’ll be done here in like, two days.” Aquaria looked at her nails, sighing in annoyance when she noticed that the baby blue polish had chipped a little bit. “I have to fix this.” As much as she tried to hide it, Trixie guessed she wasn’t fine, too restless to be okay.

The girl walked away, but Trixie wasn’t done. She often spent weeks trying to find a solution, and this freaking teen just let someone bring the answer to all their problems to them? Well, the solution to some problems.

“What do you mean? What is she bringing?”

Aquaria, who had an air of slight arrogance around her, looked at Trixie as if she was the one who figured out how to use the potty two days ago. “Some sort of dirt made from iron and salt. A few sticks with runes. I don’t know, we’ve used it for ages.” Aquaria spoke while painting her nails a cute orange, soft yet outstanding. “Where are you from?”

Dumbfounded by the simple question after Trixie had come to know something major, she just stood there for a long moment, trying to grasp the meaning of the words, before they hit her in the chest. “I live in Cali. Well, my house is there. I travel a lot.”

“I can tell,” Aquaria didn’t clarify what she meant, and when Trixie was about to ask, about to be offended, the girl began talking. “We’re from Boston. We go home often enough, Raven has a large place. Sometimes we do smaller cases in little groups, the big ones all together. We’re with a lot, you know.”

Trixie, for one, couldn’t imagine working with a large group. That only meant more people to look after, more people to protect. She couldn’t even protect one extra, how the hell was she about to take care of a group? However, Aquaria didn’t seem to have that problem.

“Sounds like fun,” Trixie rolled from the heel of her foot back to her toes. “Does this Peppermint person always take so long?”

“She won’t be ready before dawn,” Aquaria closed the bottle, blowing her nails with elegance and a certain laziness that was fascinating. “You can leave, if you want. It was really nice to bring her here.”

“I-“ What was she supposed to say? “It’s fine, I hope she’s okay,” Trixie glanced back to the closed door. “Can I come over tomorrow? Just to check if she’s okay.”

“Of course!” Aquaria stopped blowing her nails to smile. “Maybe you could help with cleaning up some more demons. You seem like a good hunter.”

It did feel indispensable to leave Aquaria, a foolish girl who painted her nails before fighting demons, possibly alone to kill maybe a dozen of demons. “Sure, why not?” Trixie scratches her nose, careful not to smudge her makeup, a strange tingle in her chest. “I’ll come over at noon?”

Aquaria nodded, giving her an awkward wave while not stopping her blowing. When Trixie left, she knew for a fact that Aquaria wasn’t looking at her.

Her fingers were shaking when she tried to open her room, the faint smell of something disgusting not bothering her for the first time since she checked in. She couldn’t stop the tremble, her heart was throbbing in her throat, and tears were threatening to well up any moment. It was weird, Trixie didn’t know where it all came from.

And yet she did.

Careless banter with someone who understood what she did. Someone who knew more than her and wanted to work together. She hadn’t worked together in three years.

When the lock finally clicked open, Trixie pushed herself in, hoping to find relief in the motel room, an empty room, a silent room. Nothing changed.

So, deciding that facing her feelings would be too hard, she kicked her shoes out with more force than intended, and moved to the little kitchen. The glasses had been dirty when she arrived, and she had only cared to clean one. Filling it with water, she took a small sip. Even though it did cool her down, she still felt like crying, like fainting.

I love you.

The words were loud and clear in her mind, she could even imagine that stupid crooked smile.

She threw her glass against the wall with a yell. She reached for the used plate in the sink, which soon followed the glass. Some of the glass hit the wall, jolting back at Trixie. She didn’t know if something hit her. Not then. She didn’t care.

See you at dinner, loser.

She leaned with her palms on the itchy tablecloth, her breathing uneven when a large tear rolled over her cheek. She never saw her at dinner.

#rpdr fanfiction #trixie mattel #aquaria #peppermint #tw blood #tw fighting #indomitable #dymphna #submission #shangela laquifa wadley #trixya #lesbian au

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