#lounging around pippa's bed all day in artfully draped sheets

[reflectingiridescent]

can I please have Philippa/Afsaneh and 19?

For luck? For sure! ;)

*Using xīnài (心爱…like, “beloved” or something) as a term of endearment here because I can. And like maybe I should be using a Cantonese term instead, but WHATEVER. I heard it in a song, and it sounded nice.

——-

“I can do that for you.”

Philippa turns around, the tangle of her bra hanging between her shoulders. “Did I hear you correctly? You usually want to take this off.”

Philippa’s half dressed - just the top of her uniform left to go - and Afsaneh is not dressed at all. Afsaneh has this thing where she likes to hold the sheets artfully over herself even though they’ve been seeing each other naked for years. It’s silly, but Philippa won’t deny that it’s attractive. “I’m being helpful, then,” yawns Afsaneh. It’s earlier than usual for both of them, but today is important. “I want to be helpful now.”

It’s a bit strange, having someone else hook the garment onto her, but Afsaneh is right. It is helpful, and the gesture is nice. “You didn’t need to come. Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy you did,” Philippa says, swinging her jacket on in one fluid motion. “But it’s just the commander’s exam. You did it. I’ll do it. I’ll pass it. It’ll be fine.”

Afsaneh flops back into bed, pulling the sheets back over herself. She also arranges her hair to fan out nicely over the pillows, and Philippa laughs. “What?”

She zips up her jacket and checks her hair for any loose strands that need to be pinned back. “You’re a work of art, Afsaneh.” Her hair’s fine. “Also, if you really want to see me, you should save your leave for when we can actually do something more fun than me working and you…not.”

“You sound like your grandmother.”

“She’s a wise woman.”

Afsaneh yawns again and stretches. “Look, any time spent with you is good time, and I’m not saying you’ll need it, but if you walk out of there and need to talk to someone who’s not your overworked ship’s counselor, I’m here. And if you don’t, I’ll also be here willing to eat the meal of your choice with you.”

Philippa’s not nervous. She’s really not. This is one of those things that’s scary if you look at it as an individual, but Philippa chooses to look at herself as more of a part of a whole, the latest in a line of Starfleet personnel who have to take such a test, and they passed, so it’s reasonable to figure that someone as apt as she would be able to as well. She sits down on the edge of the bed, and Afsaneh’s off-duty and feeling muselike, so she sits up and drapes herself over Philippa, curves and hair waves and sheet and all. “Should I have done this for you - been there, when you took the test?”

“Maybe, but my head was up my ass when I took the test, and you were on a deep space mission.”

Philippa rolls her eyes. “Okay, but for the record? Having you in my bed has never been the most focusing of activities.”

And gods help them both, Afsaneh bounces back into bed, everything bouncing with her. “Oh, xīnài, I beg to differ.”

“Wicked woman.”

“I wear the title proudly.” Afsaneh stretches out an arm. “Now kiss me before you go off into battle.”

She’s already wearing her shoes, so it’s a bit of a humorous maneuver, keeping her feet off the bed, but she manages to grab her girlfriend. “You think I need luck.” She tsks and kisses her anyway.

“It doesn’t hurt to have it,” Afsaneh smiles.