according to lynne i have sucked up all the inspiration in the apt, which is apparently a finite resource, so i guess i will be the one producing any writing today…….anyway here it goes. things i said when you met my parents. @narraboths said there was only one choice when i was given this prompt.
One second, Kara is flipping Lena’s omelette over in the pan with careful and steady precision, dancing to the Real Estate song pouring out of Lena’s way-too-big sound system, when the door opens.
It’s been three months of dating, two blissful months of having great sex, one month since Lena had insisted Kara take a key to her large off-campus apartment and told her to go get milk and kale on the way back from her radio journalism class. Kara had got the milk, some cookies, a giant bouquet of shitty grocery store flowers, and forgotten the kale, but Lena had kissed her anyway.
She had met Lena freshman year in their shared Intro to 18th Century Lit class, and they had been through a lot of nonsense to get to here – Kara had dated this shitty dude named Mike, Lena had nearly blown up their friendship group by dating James for three weeks sophomore year. But Kara had felt it this past summer, while Lena fell asleep on the phone because she was in Turkey with her brother and Kara listened. It would be this year that they would figure it out.
They had, and that was awesome. What was not awesome was Kara turning away from the electric stovetop and seeing someone other than Lena in the doorway, while wearing an FBI t-shirt reading Female Body Inspector (gifted from her sister in a fit of drunken Amazon shopping) and boxers covered in tiny little flying cupids. Last night, when Lena had taken them off of her before giving her some inspired head, she had said they were cute.
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Question of Smoke 