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Daisy tugs on the collar of her blouse nervously. She had changed her mind about what to wear four times before her mom and sister shut down her closet: any more hesitations and she wouldn’t make it on time and she definitely didn’t want that. Still, she is not entirely satisfied with her outfit and though she knows it has less to do with herself and more to do with her general nerves, she can’t help the fidgeting.
“How do I look?”
Kora waits till the car is fully parked and the ignition is off before turning around and looking at her little sister.
“I told you, Dais, you look pretty dashing. But what will make you look better is to not keep your girlfriend waiting!”
“I know, I know!” She opens the door of the car and places one leg outside before turning again, wanting one last dose of confidence.
Her sister is smiling at her, somewhat knowingly. “Good luck, dumpling!” And immediately after she starts making duck faces at her because that is what siblings do.
“You are so gross.”
Kora gives her a gentle push to get her to finally step out of the car for real.
“You mispronounced great!”
She tugs on the collar one more time while walking to the door of the Simmons’ house and planning on her head what she will say contingent to whom will answer the door. She has been to this house a thousand times during the last decade, but no matter how much they allegedly like her, taking her daughter to the first school dance is, still, a big deal.
Jemma opens the door before Daisy can even ring the doorbell, and that wasn’t contemplated on Daisy’s plan. On top of that, this is her girlfriend all dolled up for an important event, so that’s two of two for Daisy being flabbergasted and frozen on her feet.
“Daisy, you look incredible!”
She makes a half-formed sound that she hopes can somehow communicate that she feels the same way about Jemma’s look because she doesn’t think she will be able to say anything more coherent for a while. Jemma has left her hair down, which is in itself a rare occurrence, and Daisy can barely resist the impulse to touch the shiny umber curtain of hair. That alone is enough to send her into a “girl pretty, brain useless” loop, and that is not even taking into consideration the dark blue dress that Jemma is wearing.
Only when Jemma takes her hand and pulls her inside the house, does Daisy regain her speech ability, even if just a little.
“You are beautiful, Jem.”
It might not be greatly eloquent or have much to do with anything besides the blessed existence of her girlfriend alone, but it seems to be good enough for Jemma, who smiles like the sun and does a twirl that puts at risk the integrity of Daisy’s last functional brain cell.
“Dad wanted to open the door, but I couldn’t wait for another second to see you.” If her looks weren’t enough, being reminded that she does, in fact, like Daisy as much as Daisy likes her, would be enough to make her knees weak. “Come on, let’s take the pictures for my mum quickly. I don’t want to miss any song I could spend dancing with you.”
Her hand is cold in Daisy’s hands and it’s the most perfect sensation in the world. She lets Jemma trail her along, long forgotten the question of whether her outfit looks or not its best- nothing could make this moment better.