#if dior's hypnotic poison doesn't smell as described - please do not tell me. i am just a woman with a fragrantica account and a dream.

[coweringnarcissus]

chainshipping yuri draft of concept

something something… ada trails lauren to a barren convenience store after another one of the woman’s clandestine motel rendezvouses and she wrestles with her better judgment, relenting to the compulsion to follow her into the shop…

she walks around the perimeter of the small store, past lauren inspecting the label of a chocolate bar in between the aisles, head down with blonde hair fanning her shoulder blades… ada’s untucked keys from her pocket crash and jangle against each other as she approaches the fridges - to emphasize her presence? to appear nonchalant? to disturb dr. gordon’s debauched, guilty solitude? - as she stares at lauren’s bleary reflection through the glass and grabs a rockstar (original)… she turns, sneakers squeaking against the once glossed floor, and debilitates between a bag of funyuns or cool ranch doritos… ada notices lauren’s head lift towards her in her peripheral, separated only by a couple feet and the short wired display… this close, she can smell the older woman’s perfume, something dense with sandalwood and almond and some heady, drowning quality that ada can best describe as musk (hypnotic poison, dior)... she thinks of cheap, disheveled bedding, knocked over heels, and lauren’s diamond earrings - an anniversary gift from mr. gordon, surely - lovingly retired on a bedside table…

ada grabs the bag of funyuns. lauren glances at the obnoxiously yellow bag and tsks, shaking her head disapprovingly… the word tumbles out of ada’s mouth before she can help herself - “what?” “there should be a warning label on those things, with how much sodium’s in them.” ada raises her hand and jostles the energy drink in front of lauren’s eyeline “well, i’d tell you about all the other crap i put in my body, but i don’t want you to have an aneurism and bleed out on the linoleum.” lauren tightens her lips, complaining to herself that you don’t bleed externally from a ruptured aneurysm and puts the hershey's down to grab an almond joy…

with an undue amount of care in her voice, staring down at the nutrition facts: “you’re young. you should take better care of yourself.” ada scoffs and walks idly toward the counter, running her hand against the top of the unit. lauren stares at the curvature of her knuckles and slight definition of veins against the back of her palm, hastily redirecting her focus to the small and boring wall of text… “thanks-'' doc “-lady, but i think i’ll pass on the condescension disguised as unwarranted, but well-meaning, life advice from a complete stranger.”

i've been stuck on this outline for weeks, i don't know where to take this from here, and i wanted to at least get what does exist somewhere out there so that an idea i care about doesn't just collect virtual dust in my tabs. any and all interaction would be greatly appreciated! i hope someone likes this concept as much as i do. ada's dyke-ish affinity for keys was a personal detail that i am very, very fond of including. :-) original text edited shortly after posting to edit sentence structure & include lauren staring at ada's hand for suggestive purposes.