Work Text:
"Ramona, did you hear?"
Ramona haphazardly pulled one earphone from her ear, it fell to her shoulder, still blasting the heavy metal band she'd seen in concert the other month with Cerise. She turned her head to Justine.
They both laid on their beds, it was too early to sleep and too late for any activities. Ramona sat listening to music while Justine was probably scrolling through MyChapter or ordering new ballet slippers. "What?" she asked, her voice almost scratchy from the last hour of mutual silence.
Justine flipped over onto her stomach, her legs in the air, she kicked them slowly and gracefully, like it were a form of dance. "Darling Charming is Apple White's Prince Charming."
It was exactly a week ago today that the entire Dragon Games debacle went down, Ramona was mainly keeping herself to herself and, quite frankly, didn't care for the love life of the princesses around her. "Is she?" she feigned interest, fast drums still blaring in one of her ears.
Justine tilted her head, looking almost offended that Ramona lacked intrigue. "I said Darling, not Daring. Aren't you surprised?"
Ramona shrugged, finally pausing her playlist and pulling the second earbud from her ear as Justine was clearly going to prattle on. "Didn't Darling go off book and go full lady knight or something? Doesn't surprise me she's into girls."
Justine rolled her eyes, dropping her mirrorphone. It landed with a quiet thump on her mattress. "You have no romance, Ramona."
"Oh, the Big Bad Wolf isn't romantic enough for you? I'm so sorry."
Ramona didn't know what to think of the glare Justine gave her. It was like she was searching for every possible tell in Ramona's bones.
"You don't find it romantic at all? A Knight bravely giving a Princess CPR to save her life?"
"So it wasn't even a kiss? What's romantic about CPR, broken ribs?"
Justine actually groaned, her head fell back. Ramona let herself smirk for just a moment, she liked seeing Justine irritated. As long as she was the one doing the irritating. Justine sat up properly.
"It isn't about the CPR. It's the way she did it, Darling went out of her way to give CPR instead of just a kiss, it's so chivalrous, so romantic," Justine sighed like she was reading a romance book. Ramona wanted to hate it, that nearly dazed expression on Justine's face. If it were anyone else she would have already thought of a cruel way to stomp it out, her head ran empty.
"You're so weird."
Justine didn't look affected, rather fueled. "I think you're more romantic than you give yourself credit for," her voice was horrifically smooth, like she'd been waiting for the perfect time to say it.
Knowing Justine, she probably had. She was conniving for a little ballerina.
Ramona huffed. She was tempted to plug her earphones back in and turn up the volume until she forgot about it, but felt all too curious. So she knows what to stop doing, of course. "What the hex do you mean?"
"It was pretty romantic when you sacrificed yourself for me," Justine glowed like the sun, like it was some kind of heaven sent moment she was looking back on.
"I didn't let you die. That's not romantic."
When Ever After High was under the Evil Queen's rule and select students escaped down Jillian's beanstalk, Justine and Ramona came very, very close, as Faybelle returned faster than anticipated. With only time for one of them to escape, Ramona pushed Justine towards the beanstalk and ran back down the hall before they could get caught, resigning herself to the school.
"And there's the time you wrapped your jacket around me when I fell asleep in the gardens," Justine continued, Ramona dug her claws into the covers beneath her.
"It's not my fault you don't sleep at night."
Justine stood up slowly from her bed, smoothed down her pajama shorts and stepped forward, every movement purposeful, like a choreographed dance routine. She sat herself down on Ramona's bed like she belonged there, it took everything in Ramona not to let her surprise show, to keep the gap between her breaths unnoticeable. Justine leaned in closer.
"I'm bored, Ramona. I'm bored of you acting like you don't care when you obviously do." Justine's eyes stared down Ramona's, something like demand in them. Baby blue had never looked so entitled.
"I don't."
"You never know when to quit, do you?" Justine puffed. "If I were in an enchanted sleep, I know that you'd kiss me."
Ramona looked her up, then down. Justine had never acted so much like the typical royal, convinced that something was their birthright just because it was what they wanted. It was amusing, Ramona might have enjoyed it more if it wasn't directed at her.
"You do get into enchanted sleeps, sweetheart, and they're a pain."
"You know exactly what I mean," Justine argued. "And you just called me sweetheart."
"Do you take every word I say sincerely? Cause that'll get bad quick."
Justine leaned even closer, so close that, if she so wanted to, she could have taken one of Ramona's earphones and pressed it into her own ear. "You aren't romantic like a Prince Charming. But you're romantic." Justine's eyes softened, in just a blink she was back to the sweet little ballerina Ramona was more accustomed to. Justine was a confusing girl, sweet one minute, sassy the next, and entitled after that. Ramona would admit, she enjoyed figuring out how to evoke every facet of her.
"I know you follow me every night that I sleep dance, to make sure I don't hurt myself. Is that why they're such a pain? Because you would rather lose sleep than let me fall on my face?"
For the first time since she started speaking, Ramona turned her eyes away from Justine, preferring the dark corner by her bed. "If you break your ankle, it'll be my job to take care of you."
"But you wouldn't have to take care of me, you could let me fend for myself. But you wouldn't."
Justine got so close that her curls brushed Ramona's shoulder. Ramona's first instinct when soft hands cupped her face should have been to growl and bare her fangs, yet she never did. Not even when Justine's lips touched hers.
Justine's thumb stroked Ramona's cheek, back and forth as though she were a puppy rather than a wolf destined to eat girls.
"You didn't have to let me do that, and you did."
Justine was practically in Ramona's lap now, Ramona did what she wanted to do every time she saw Justine pirouetting in pretty golden skirts, pull her in by the waist, claws only just retracted.
"I hope you're happy with yourself, sweetheart."