I'm not a writer.

I mean I can write. I know some pretty good words, I can spell and I think I know how commas work. But I don't spend time writing and don't even get me started on how to use a semi-colon 'cause...well, I can't. Use them. She knows this. I know she knows this, and she knows that I know that she knows this. So why is she asking me to write for her all of a sudden? I mean, I know she likes books and everything and that's fine or whatever but nuh. Nuh uh uh. No way. She must have seen something in my face though, because next she says, "Come on, it'll be fun." She smiles. You know, that smile she does and then she kisses me and I go all squishy and then. Poop. I'm powerless. And maybe kinda itchy.

"Umm, sure?"

Wouldn't it make more sense to start at the beginning?

I guess. But I like this part the most

Okay. So, me, Yang and Weiss are getting ready to go out on the town with team FNKI. We're nervous. We want to make a good impression. Of course we do, since we were the ones to knock them out of the Vytal festival-

Blake, you're boring them.

I'm not. I'm telling the story.

Don't worry, I'll take it from here.

So, right, shut the front door, but I'm totes m'goats partying with like the coolest people ever. It's killer. Ruby couldn't come, which sucks but she's like twelve or something? But everyone else's here and I'm just like sooooo drunk it's awesome. Yang looks kinda pretty and Weiss looks rich as anything and Blake well...Blake's like super cute. I just love her dress, this kinda purply thing with some dark bits and her bow is cool. I want to say something, make her laugh maybe, but she seems sorta shy. "Hey, B-Blake, right?" I ask. Never miss a beat.

"Yes," I say, too quietly at first, so I take a sip of my drink and try again, "Yes. You're Neon, aren't you?"

"Sure am." If it weren't for the atmosphere around us, I'm sure our exchange would have tapered into an uneasy silence. As it is, the rainbow-coloured girl just sits back and looks at me. In front of her lies an impressive stack of six discarded Jaeger bombs and she seems set on finishing her second double measure of vodka and coke through a silly straw. I follow it's curvature up to her bright lips and glittering cheeks, up to her eyes, which have this mischievous look about them, or maybe they're just unfocused. Perhaps a touch of both?

"Where did you get the straw?" I ask, hoping to rekindle our conversation.

"I always always always bring it out partying, you know? It's like my good luck charm. This one time, I didn't bring it with me and the night totally sucked. And I, like, always have a good time partying." Listening to her speak, she's saying nothing, and far too quickly for me to follow. I'm trying though. I nod. Smile. Just like when I'm talking to Nora.

"I see." Uh oh, evacuate. What did I say? She seems annoyed. Tense. Did I talk too much? Not enough? Quick, do something.

"Interesting fact, go." Never miss a beat.

"What?" Where did that come from?

"I want to know an interesting fact about you, so go."

"I..." What? This girl is just bizarre. But, it'd be rude not to say anything and I don't want her to think I'm rude. "I'm not sure it's so interesting," I say after a moment's thought. "I'm a pescetarian."

"Pesky-what now?"

"It means I don't eat meat except for fish. It's an ethical thing mainly."

"Oh. That's cool. I love fish. But I like meat too and it'd suck if I couldn't have bacon sandwiches in the morn..." Stop. Rewind. "They're, um, not that great though. Really" She laughs. She's sooooo pretty when she laughs. Total success.

"Interesting fact, go." She turns it around on me.

"Well, let's see. So, my favourite food is apples, and, obviously, I love roller skating. I'm gay, I'm a natural redhead and I have this weird gluten thing, but that's kinda boring. Ooh, ooh, I once did a quadruple back-flip and only broke both my wrists and my collarbone. That was awesome." It's a lot to take in at once. Broke both her wrists- wait, did she just come out to me? Would it be weird to start with that? Those eyes. She knows exactly what she's done. I refuse to bite.

"Sounds painful, what happened?"

"Well, Keano was all like: you can't do a quadruple back-flip off that half-pipe. And I was like, I can totes do a quadruple backflip off that half-pipe and he was all no way."

"He was right." I think she might be insane.

"Yeah. But I tried and that's what counts." Well, she isn't wrong. "But then it sucked because I was in hospital for aaaages and my girlfriend left me and-" No. Stop that. Pain. Evacuate. "And then now happened, so yeah."

"Is, are you all right?"

"What? Yeah, all good." Never miss a beat. Not sure what to say now though. Looking around, there was some guys playing pool in the corner. "Fancy a game?" I ask, pointing to the table.

"I'm not very good."

"It's easy, come on." She stands and offers her hand out to me, which I take with a grin. It's silly to feel such a rush from such benign contact, but her spontaneity, and her confidence, is almost excruciating to behold. I'm swept up by it. Figuratively...and not so figuratively as well. Why can't I ever be like that?

The table isn't free when we get there, but we don't have to wait long. She racks up and I break. It's a decent break: I even manage to pot a yellow. I look up to Neon and smirk, and I like the way she watches me after that. Unfortunately, I'm really not that good at pool. "It's easy," she says. I must have drank more than I thought because I'm not sure when exactly we started standing so close to one another. If I'm honest, I'm a little excited when I first notice. She whispers to me, the atmosphere becoming surprisingly intimate despite the busyness of the pub. She presses into me, her hand over mine as she helps guide my shot. "You're most of the way there anyway."

"You make it look so easy, though."

"Blake, m'dear: I make everything looks easy," she laughs, racking up for our third game. I'd rather not play again and I don't say a word about it. I let her buy me drinks, return them when she prompts me and we just dance around the topic for a while. In the end, however, with the alcohol flowing so perilously, she finally sucks up the courage to lean over and kiss me. Pulling away after only the lightest of touches.

You kissed me though.

Shut up. I'm telling this part.

"Oh, sorry. Was that okay?" She asks, looking a little red in the cheeks.

"Yeah, it's fine. You're pretty drunk so-"

"Am not. Just tipsy." She prods at my nose, becoming lost in the action. I swat her hand away. She giggles. "I like you."

"I figured," I say, biting at my bottom lip. "So, you're gay then?"

"Am not. I'm bisexual."

"Is that an ethical thing?" I ask, trying, and clearly failing, to suppress a laugh. Because, you know, only really obnoxious people laugh at their own jokes. She pouts, aiming for my nose again.

After that, things really started kicking off. It was pure awesome. "Come on," I say, dragging her up to the stage. "Let's sing it."

"But I don't know the words," she says, waving her hands in front of her.

"It's karaoke, it'll tell us the words, come on."

"No no no, Neon, come on. This isn't fair."

She glares at me, pounding the shot glass down in front her, "I dare you," She says, flinching as the heat of it slides down her throat.

"Never," I say, taking up my own and draining it without so much as a wince. "Underestimate my ability to drink." She looks scared, but I'm pretty sure I'm about to die.

I have to, like, properly yank her away from the Central Grill. "Blake, you can't. You're a pesky-ma-thingy, remember?"

"But I wan' it."

"You can't. Remember your ethics! You have chips."

"But I want a kebab." Luckily, I'm stronger than I look.

And, what happened after that?

Muh...We woke up?

My eyes snap open. Nothing. I think I'm blind. No, I can see sunlight, ugh, it hurts but it's a relief. I grab at my face, tearing away a sheet of paper taped to my forehead. Sighing, I look down at the loose collection of hieroglyphics until they begin to resemble words.

Blake,

Looks like you had fun last night. That's cool.

Tell Neon that we've left her some clothes, her pyjamas and her roller skates. Don't ask. They're under the bed.

Also, Ruby made you guys sandwiches. Tuna for you and bacon for Neon. She's a sweet kid. Also, she says that the fridge is all stocked up with juice and milk so help yourself to whatever.

Great night last night. You can really sing, girl. Next time, we're doing a duet for sure.

Flynt.

"Gah, I'm blind!" She awakes. "Mom always said if I drank too much I'd-"

"Neon," I say, reaching over to take the note. She grins when she sees me.

"What is it?" She asks, snatching it back.

Neon,

We've all gone for breakfast. Flynt said you wouldn't mind if we didn't wake you.

You two are so cute! Like the cutest ever. In fact, I have photographic evidence of just how adorable you two are. I never miss a scrapbook opportunity.

Your friends are all really cool too, and they want to meet Blake properly. You kinda stole her away for the night, didn't ya? You little minx.

Oh, and tell Blake her whip's underneath her boots in the wardrobe and that I've hung out her leathers to dry. I couldn't quite get all the blood out, though. I'm sure she won't mind.

Have a good morning/day,

Yang.

"Blood? What?"

"She's joking. She thinks she's funny."

"Oh good," she says, stretching. She stops, eyes wide. "Hey, Blake?"

"Yeah?" Please don't ask what I think you're about to ask because I really don't know.

"What day is it?"

"Sunday."

"Sweet, bed day." Ha, I think I scared her. I knooow we didn't sleep together. Still, waking up next to a hottie. Pretty slick if I do say so. I collapse into her with a giggle, resting my head on her lap. She looks surprised, so I poke her boobs, "Hey cookin', what's lookin'?" Poke. Poke.

"What?" Poke. "Stop it."

...Poke.

"Never. Too much fun." I grab her wrists. She narrows her eyes, thrashing against me. I'm steady at first, but she's stronger than she looks. With a cry, I topple forward and land head first into her thighs. She laughs, "Blake! I knew you liked me, but I didn't think you were that kinda girl."

"Shut up," I groan, rolling over onto my back. "My head's a bit tender right now." As we lie there, I massage my temples in the hope of some, small, relief. Neon just hums to herself, bouncing her feet along to the rhythm, stroking at her tail with a pleasant, but aloof, smile. "Your tail's quite pretty, you know."

"Thanks, I love your ears. They're so cute when they wiggle."

"Thanks." I sigh.

"You okay?"

"Fine, just. Very. Very. Hungover. Who's idea was the drinking contest? And don't say it was me."

"Um, okay."

"Who won?"

"Draw. They stopped serving us." We laugh. She sounds sorta rough, so I stumble out of bed and head for the fridge. We munch sandwiches and drink juice for a while. I'm feeling pretty powered up afterwards and I wanna show Blake how to roller skate, but she goes all green and blurgh so we just snuggle up and watch a movie instead. She's into all these super weird ones and anime and stuff, and I'm all yuck, so we finally agree on the Lion King. It's awesome 'cause she just instinctively knows that she's gunna be the big spoon and doesn't even question it when I'm all cuddling up to her and stuff. The only bad part of being the little spoon is my tail, but I just kinda curl it over her legs and I think she's ticklish 'cause she giggles whenever I twitch it.

"So," she whispers, kissing the tips of my ears while Timon and Pumbaa argue about lions. "You're mine now, right?"

"I dunno, Yang's pretty ho-ow!" She bites me. Like, hard. Well, not that hard. But it hurts. My feelings are very sensitive.

"Well? You are, right?"

"Hmm, maybe, but Weiss is supe-"

"If you don't say yes, I'm'a hit you so hard your kids are gunna behave." I turn over, so we're pressing noses. Her eyes are all intense and fiery and my heart starts flurgurgling. I nod, "Y-yes." And she kisses me. Not like before. She's not so shy this time. And, as much as I really wanted to watch the movie, I don't want her to stop kissing me either.

Ooh, this is the part where it gets all steamy.

It doesn't. I'm really not that kind of girl.

We pull away after some time. Holding each other as the TV hums static, having long given up on the idea that we might be watching it. "What do you want to do now?" I ask.

"Roller skate?"

"No.".

"Fine. What would you usually do?"

"I like to read, or write sometimes if I can."

"Lame."

"It's quite therapeutic, actually. We could even write something together."

"Uh, ooh, what about a grisly crime drama, with Weiss as the lead and Flynt as her reluctant partner? They have a sordid past, and they don't always see eye to eye, but they know how to get the job done." I laugh.

"I'd read that. For at least a few thousand words a pop. So, do you want to?" It sounds kinda fun, I guess, but I'm not a writer.

I mean I can write.

Wait, Neon, we did this part.

Oh yeah. Then what happened?

She builds a blanket fort. It's quite a funny thing really, I feel like I'm twelve, and I'm surprised to see that Neon is actually having a lot of fun writing. The ideas seem to capture her more than the process, and for the most part she just ends up doodling and trying to distract me. I don't mind, though. I enjoy her company. And, in the end, we do at least agree to write a chronicling of our first night meeting each other. Deciding to work on Ice Cold Blues another time.

Ooh, meta.

I'm already half-way finished by the time I realise she's fallen asleep. I stretch out my wrists and yawn, pushing my laptop away as I sit up. She's a quiet sleeper, and her eyes flutter open as the bed creaks, "Where you goin'?" She mumbles.

"Nowhere, I'm just not that tired. I might read for a bit."

"Will you read to me?" Never miss a beat.

"Sure. I'm already quite a few chapters into it-"

"Don't care. Please." I'm powerless. I retrieve my book after some careful maneuvering and she puts her head on my lap. I read to her, as softly as I can. As she sleeps, I look down at her, thinking I'd better stop and leave her to rest. I notice, however, that her forehead creases and that she curls a little into herself if I do stop for too long. I can't help to wonder if, deep down, she's quite a lonely person. She's chatty and loud and hyperactive, but right now. Right at this second, she seems so vulnerable. I lean down to kiss her forehead and she mewls. I smile, flicking over to the final page. Maybe I'm just projecting. Maybe I'm the one who feels vulnerable. Maybe I kind of like it.

"It eluded us then, but that's no natter – tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther...And one fine morning- So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."

Is this the bit we ask?

Neon, you can't just ask for- no, don't it's rude!

No it isn't, how would they know to write a review unless we ask?

Well...If you do feel so inclined, I mean you don't have to or anythin-

Poke.

Stop that.