as_damaged | ☤ twenty-nine

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☤ twenty-nine

[Openest Action that Ever Actioned]

[Cameron is an atheist, but in some ways she's all for the holidays. They're an excuse to be happy. Sometimes you need one. So she doesn't think anything of the Christmas decorations everywhere, on buildings and lampposts, garlands around doorways and lights in the trees. How she makes it into work without being assaulted by smooches is anyone's guess. But she does.

Her luck? Her luck is bound to change, at work, after work, on her way home, wherever you might like to imagine you might encounter her.]

[ooc; SCREAM please. imagine this was hours ago ;_; we've company from out of town so my computer access has not been optimal today |D ilu all. um. open for EVERYONE, srsly, the more the merrier imo >D backdating is likely sob sorry ILOVEYOUPOLY

ETA; 3 am where did you come from. more when i'm awake ;.; <333]

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[She lets the momentum of Angela's shove take her a few paces back; and if she doesn't scrub her tongue it's only out of a faintly spiteful need to be more polite.]

I hate this place.

[She's glowering at nothing, casting a paranoid glance at the people passing by; if she sees anyone she recognizes, she might have to reconsider the whole "do no harm" thing.

Satisfied, she keeps her distance, eying Angela warily. With their luck the curse might not be satisfied by this.]

[Screw being polite. Politeness isn't necessary when a horrifying event occurs. At least she isn't panicking, screaming bloody murder.]

Tell me about it.

[In a moment of clarity, Angela glances over to Cameron, eyes squinted in a suspicious look.]

At least your breath doesn't stink.

[Take it as a compliment, Cameron. It's not exactly stuck firmly in the insult category.]

[She can't quite help herself; it's a strange, backhanded compliment, and coupled with Angela's odd look and her own barely-suppressed panic, it's funny. And so Cameron lets out a little laugh, barely more than a strangled cough, before she catches herself and manages to regain composure.]

[Barely more than a cough, but Angela caught it. It triggers her into a puff of a laugh, not quite bitter, but not quite outright amused. There could be worse people to kiss in the grand scheme of things. She could have kissed House.]

You don't tell Robert and I won't.

[Because the last thing either one of them needs is a pouty Australian in their midsts.]

[Kissing House isn't all bad. Ask Cameron, she could tell you. But that's a story for another day, which is to say, never. Cameron can think of worse people than Angela to kiss as well, though for different reasons-- there aren't many she's got such a strong reason to avoid.]

Deal.

[She jokingly puts out a hand to shake on it.]

[No, that's okay. Because all that would do is re-confirm the idea that Angela had about Cameron being in love with House if that kiss wasn't curse related.

If it's a joke of a handshake, it flies over Angela's head because she comes close enough to slap her hand against Cameron's.]

I would ask you to pinky swear but we're both grown adults, right?

[There's a slight tug on Cameron's hand coming from Angela's direction, just like the one a few minutes ago. That slight tug is quickly becoming a stronger one and her eyes roll up to the awning above them to witness another damn sprig above them. When her eyes come back down to Earth, the only thing she sees is the poor woman has been yanked right up against her.]

I'm sorry.

[The apology is a quick breath of warm air against Cameron's lips as Angela's arm wraps around Cameron's waist. Her teeth catch on Cameron's lip, gentle nips asking for permission.

She did say earlier she really liked this curse. Too bad hindsight is a bitch. Her opinion has taken a total 180.]

[No need to ask what she's sorry for. This is patently unfair, a fact she considers helplessly as she slips one arm over Angela's shoulder awkwardly while returning the kiss, lips parting instinctively and against her will.]

[More than unfair. This is outright pure evil on the part of the curse. This is the stuff that nightmares are made of. Never had Angela imagined she'd kiss Cameron, much less twice.

Along with that bleach cocktail, she's going to need some nice acid to scrub her tongue down at the end of the night now that it's found itself a home against Cameron's. Where was Hodgins with his chemical knowledge to fix one up for her when she needed him? Then again, maybe it's best he wasn't around in the City. He'd might like this little show his ex-girlfriend is putting on, complete with her hand tipping Cameron's chin up to deepen the kiss as if things weren't bad enough.]

[Curses always seem to have a mind of their own. Sometimes the compulsion is easy enough to deal with; if it doesn't bother you a peck on the cheek can be enough. Not so, now; Cameron isn't at all certain how her hand ended up on Angela's ass, but there it is, and her cheeks are flaming red with embarrassment. So much for putting up a fight.]

[Depending on which cheeks one is referring to, Angela would have been fine with a peck on one. However, now Cameron's grabbing her ass and that's definitely not the cheek where Angela's preferences lie.

They're dueling in the battle of who hads the redder face until a joyous whoop from a very unwanted and undesired passerby (figures somebody would be around to enjoy their shame) pulls Angela from her haze. She yanks herself away to surreptitiously wipe her mouth with her sleeve, unable to look Cameron in the eye. The space between them now is wide enough to drive an ocean liner through.]

What the hell was that?

I don't--

[Wide-eyed and totally ashamed, she's taking an extra step back anyway with a little shudder. All Cameron wants is to go home, brush her teeth til her mouth bleed, and lull herself to forgetful sleep with a glass of wine and something to read.]

I think I should... go, before...

Yeah, go. Me too. Far away. Far, far, far away.

[Wine isn't going to cut it for Angela. In fact, she's not going to head home. She's going to go to some skeezy dive of a bar and drink the hardest liquor they have. Maybe it'll ruin the memory center of her brain along with her liver.]

It's-- I'm sorry about.

[She can't even articulate it, so Cameron just nods, looking a little sick, and turns to flee.]

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☤ twenty-nine

action;

action; do we want to torture them some more?

action; s'all good bby, as long as you feel up to my epic backdating |D

action; /backtags to hell and back

action; wheeeeeee

action; this handbasket is fun!

action; /dansu

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