@anyone who thought this was gonna be me complaining about Bloom again, sorry to disappoint...it's just another fic. More anon requests.
For the second time in under an hour she overheard them whispering. Amaryl leaned over and murmured something in Alice’s ear. The two burst out in a fit of girlish giggles. Bloom huffed and slammed two more books onto their designated shelves.
“You want to speak up a little?” Bloom inquired trying her best not to let anger seep into her words.
Amaryl and Alice exchanged looks. Alice gnawed on the tip of her tongue. Clearly Amaryl was on the spot now. “Well…Alice and I were just saying…”
“Mmm hmm?” Bloom prompted her to continue.
“That we think that you may have just put that book on the wrong shelf.” Amaryl shrugged with a coy smile.
“Right…” Bloom muttered. “Have you forgotten that I’ve been working at this library for about three years now?”
“No one’s impervious to mistakes.” Alice shrugged.
Bloom exhaled. She may as well play along and pretend that she didn’t know exactly what they were saying about her…
She was the manly one. The bro. The dude. The macho. Moreover that Icy was the gorgeous, glamorous, graceful, feminine one. And she was beginning to wonder if it was in fact true as she pondered upon her lover’s long silky silvery hair…and her diamond-esque eyeshadow. Her soft spearmint perfume—the way she cocked her head slightly to the side when she was confused or trying to focus intently.
She wandered over to the receptionist desk. Where-which Icy lingered, reclining back in that spinny-chair Bloom loved so much. She sat there biting down on the edge of a blue ink pen, moving it up and down between her lips.
Bloom almost turned away so not to inrupt whatever the ice witch was so intensely thinking about.
Icy spared a glance over her shoulder. She took the pen between her pinky and her ring fingers. “Something on your mind?”
“No.” Bloom answered a little too quickly, her pout betraying anything her all-too-abrupt answer hadn’t.
“If you say so.” Icy replied with a dismissive gesture.
“What about you? You seemed to be thinking pretty deeply before I got here…”
“Hmm…not really.” Icy answered slowly spinning the chair left to right. “Just trying to figure out what I’m going to do when this shift ends.” She glanced over at the watch on her so neatly organized desk. Bloom thought over her own cluttered desk. Her expression soured. The more she thought about it, the more Alice and Amaryl seemed right.
“You’re thinking about the whole ‘she’s the butch one’ comments aren’t you?”
Bloom’s face reddened. “What!? No! What would make you think that?”
“Aside from that little display…” Icy paused. “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Just a guess, I suppose.”
“They think I’m the manly one.” Bloom frowned.
“Well is it not true darling?” Icy tapped her pen against her lips.
Again Bloom found herself comparing the two of them; Christ, Icy even dressed more feminine then she in that unwrinkled pale blue blazer-pencil skirt combo…and those metallic heels that she took to tapping against the floor. A string of pearls sparkling around her neck, reading glasses sliding down her nose.
Bloom looked down at her own attire; as plain as it could get—a white T and blue jeans a size or two too big. She shoved her hands in her pockets.
“You act like it matters.” Icy rolled her eyes. “Both roles are fine. Honestly, do we really fit either completely? It really depends on the day…who’s more feminine and who’s more masculine.” She returned the pen to the corner of her mouth and bit down on it again.
“Well…I don’t know.” Bloom started.
“They say that witches are more manly than fairies. So there’s a femme point for you. You wear that glittery fairy outfit and that cutesy little tiara…and those ridiculous glittery wing. Three more points for you.” Icy let it sink in. “You spent your first years at Alfea fawning over what’s his name, going shopping with your ditzy blonde friend, and throwing silly slumber parties.”
Bloom sighed. “You’re still calling her a ditz?”
“Would you prefer Barbie? Anyways, that’s not the point. The point is that you’re just as girly as the rest of your fairy friends. You’re not a butch. You’re not a femme. You’re just Bloom.” Icy leaned back. “Now…if you will. I should probably finish all this paper work I’ve been putting off.”
“Just. Bloom?”
“What? Do you want to be Icy?” Icy glanced up. “Sorry darling, that much desired position is taken.”
“No, I’m fine being Bloom. Well I am now.”
“You’re welcome darling.”
For the second time in under an hour she overheard them whispering. Amaryl leaned over and murmured something in Alice’s ear. The two burst out in a fit of girlish giggles. Bloom huffed and slammed two more books onto their designated shelves.
“You want to speak up a little?” Bloom inquired trying her best not to let anger seep into her words.
Amaryl and Alice exchanged looks. Alice gnawed on the tip of her tongue. Clearly Amaryl was on the spot now. “Well…Alice and I were just saying…”
“Mmm hmm?” Bloom prompted her to continue.
“That we think that you may have just put that book on the wrong shelf.” Amaryl shrugged with a coy smile.
“Right…” Bloom muttered. “Have you forgotten that I’ve been working at this library for about three years now?”
“No one’s impervious to mistakes.” Alice shrugged.
Bloom exhaled. She may as well play along and pretend that she didn’t know exactly what they were saying about her…
She was the manly one. The bro. The dude. The macho. Moreover that Icy was the gorgeous, glamorous, graceful, feminine one. And she was beginning to wonder if it was in fact true as she pondered upon her lover’s long silky silvery hair…and her diamond-esque eyeshadow. Her soft spearmint perfume—the way she cocked her head slightly to the side when she was confused or trying to focus intently.
She wandered over to the receptionist desk. Where-which Icy lingered, reclining back in that spinny-chair Bloom loved so much. She sat there biting down on the edge of a blue ink pen, moving it up and down between her lips.
Bloom almost turned away so not to inrupt whatever the ice witch was so intensely thinking about.
Icy spared a glance over her shoulder. She took the pen between her pinky and her ring fingers. “Something on your mind?”
“No.” Bloom answered a little too quickly, her pout betraying anything her all-too-abrupt answer hadn’t.
“If you say so.” Icy replied with a dismissive gesture.
“What about you? You seemed to be thinking pretty deeply before I got here…”
“Hmm…not really.” Icy answered slowly spinning the chair left to right. “Just trying to figure out what I’m going to do when this shift ends.” She glanced over at the watch on her so neatly organized desk. Bloom thought over her own cluttered desk. Her expression soured. The more she thought about it, the more Alice and Amaryl seemed right.
“You’re thinking about the whole ‘she’s the butch one’ comments aren’t you?”
Bloom’s face reddened. “What!? No! What would make you think that?”
“Aside from that little display…” Icy paused. “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Just a guess, I suppose.”
“They think I’m the manly one.” Bloom frowned.
“Well is it not true darling?” Icy tapped her pen against her lips.
Again Bloom found herself comparing the two of them; Christ, Icy even dressed more feminine then she in that unwrinkled pale blue blazer-pencil skirt combo…and those metallic heels that she took to tapping against the floor. A string of pearls sparkling around her neck, reading glasses sliding down her nose.
Bloom looked down at her own attire; as plain as it could get—a white T and blue jeans a size or two too big. She shoved her hands in her pockets.
“You act like it matters.” Icy rolled her eyes. “Both roles are fine. Honestly, do we really fit either completely? It really depends on the day…who’s more feminine and who’s more masculine.” She returned the pen to the corner of her mouth and bit down on it again.
“Well…I don’t know.” Bloom started.
“They say that witches are more manly than fairies. So there’s a femme point for you. You wear that glittery fairy outfit and that cutesy little tiara…and those ridiculous glittery wing. Three more points for you.” Icy let it sink in. “You spent your first years at Alfea fawning over what’s his name, going shopping with your ditzy blonde friend, and throwing silly slumber parties.”
Bloom sighed. “You’re still calling her a ditz?”
“Would you prefer Barbie? Anyways, that’s not the point. The point is that you’re just as girly as the rest of your fairy friends. You’re not a butch. You’re not a femme. You’re just Bloom.” Icy leaned back. “Now…if you will. I should probably finish all this paper work I’ve been putting off.”
“Just. Bloom?”
“What? Do you want to be Icy?” Icy glanced up. “Sorry darling, that much desired position is taken.”
“No, I’m fine being Bloom. Well I am now.”
“You’re welcome darling.”
the lockets
