For The Sake of Consistency
(wrote a fic ages ago and never posted it here)
Summary:
Takes place during "The Sacred Taking." Madison wrestles with her feeling towards Zoe.. Title from Emma Roberts' song "Mexican Wrestler" (which I think is originally Jill Sobule).
Kyle says it first. Before Madison ever had a chance to. Not that it would have mattered. Zoe never would have felt the same. But motherfucking Kyle who can't even tie his own shoelaces! Who would have guessed he could string together any kind of sentence at all and it had to be that one?? Kyle is all Zoe cares about, fussing over him with his Leapfrog or whatever. What about Madison? She's still adjusting to being back from the dead too. And she's had a lot less time to adjust than freaking Kyle. Doesn't she warrant some attention? Or that look in Zoe's eyes that's like a shiny gold star every time *she* manages to say a one-syllable word? But every time she catches Zoe looking at her, it's like she knows, and Madison freaks out then lashes out. And every time she isn't looking at her, she seethes because she wants her to be looking at her. It's like everything they shared that night beyond Kyle meant less than nothing to her. And Madison gets meaningless sex, she's the fucking queen of it, but this was different. They shared something. Kyle was supposed to bring them closer together. They created him together. They fucked him together. It was always the two of them, sharing these experiences. He should have been inconsequential. Sharing Kyle like sharing a pizza, just a tool to get what she wanted, a useless, stupid tool. Zoe should have gotten over him when he came back and couldn't even say his own name. Or when she caught him with Madison. She didn't understand the power of her feelings for Zoe when she helped bring him back. She just knew for the first time in her life she felt like someone "got" her, like someone had her back. She thought she would do anything for her, for their friendship, to keep having that feeling. She'd wanted Zoe to see how much she cared, which was tricky because she couldn't unlearn keeping her guard up, too much life experience. She couldn't just turn it off and suddenly be all hugs and kumbaya and let's talk about our feelings. But Zoe understood that about her. It seemed like she did. Like she understood that Madison let her in as much as she was capable of. But no, she just wouldn't give up with that idiot man child, leaving Madison standing outside her door her face burning with rage, hot tears spilling down her face, utterly alone, no longer empty, but trembling full to overflowing.
Summary:
Takes place during "The Sacred Taking." Madison wrestles with her feeling towards Zoe.. Title from Emma Roberts' song "Mexican Wrestler" (which I think is originally Jill Sobule).
Kyle says it first. Before Madison ever had a chance to. Not that it would have mattered. Zoe never would have felt the same. But motherfucking Kyle who can't even tie his own shoelaces! Who would have guessed he could string together any kind of sentence at all and it had to be that one?? Kyle is all Zoe cares about, fussing over him with his Leapfrog or whatever. What about Madison? She's still adjusting to being back from the dead too. And she's had a lot less time to adjust than freaking Kyle. Doesn't she warrant some attention? Or that look in Zoe's eyes that's like a shiny gold star every time *she* manages to say a one-syllable word? But every time she catches Zoe looking at her, it's like she knows, and Madison freaks out then lashes out. And every time she isn't looking at her, she seethes because she wants her to be looking at her. It's like everything they shared that night beyond Kyle meant less than nothing to her. And Madison gets meaningless sex, she's the fucking queen of it, but this was different. They shared something. Kyle was supposed to bring them closer together. They created him together. They fucked him together. It was always the two of them, sharing these experiences. He should have been inconsequential. Sharing Kyle like sharing a pizza, just a tool to get what she wanted, a useless, stupid tool. Zoe should have gotten over him when he came back and couldn't even say his own name. Or when she caught him with Madison. She didn't understand the power of her feelings for Zoe when she helped bring him back. She just knew for the first time in her life she felt like someone "got" her, like someone had her back. She thought she would do anything for her, for their friendship, to keep having that feeling. She'd wanted Zoe to see how much she cared, which was tricky because she couldn't unlearn keeping her guard up, too much life experience. She couldn't just turn it off and suddenly be all hugs and kumbaya and let's talk about our feelings. But Zoe understood that about her. It seemed like she did. Like she understood that Madison let her in as much as she was capable of. But no, she just wouldn't give up with that idiot man child, leaving Madison standing outside her door her face burning with rage, hot tears spilling down her face, utterly alone, no longer empty, but trembling full to overflowing.