The Sticky Note Chronicles

“You do know that’s illegal?”
“Psh, like you neva drank before twenty one.”
“Actually, I didn’t.”
A skeptical glance from the redhead with a Heineken in hand, raising her eyebrows in disbelief. The brunette stared at her with equal skepticism, hiding a forming smirk.
“… Hush.” Norah said, defeated.
“It’s hard to believe you’re only twenty. I guessed that you were older from the notes.”
She only hummed in response, taking a drawling long gulp of the bitter liquid, sour as it slid down her throat.
Mel’s face remained blank as she watched the girl drink her alcohol, wondering if that was a good idea. Of course, it wasn’t, and she did know that – she was still sick. And she should have been resting; it was nearing midnight, the clock would soon strike to be Christmas day. The whole ordeal had taken place only a few hours ago, and Norah was… well, drowning her sorrows.
“Gimme,” She said, pointing to the can. Green eyes blinked, round with confusion. “Give me the bloody can,” She tried again, motioning with her arm.
Hesitantly, the redhead handed her the can. The thin woman got off her place on the floor and went to the kitchen, dumping out the beer into the sink.
“I’m cutting you off,”
“He-hey! That was my first one and I didn’t even finish it!” Norah protested, her accent causing her tongue to click against her teeth as she spoke hastily.
“Yeah, but you’ve also got the flu.” Hands on her hips, looking sternly down at the Irish woman sitting on the floor.
A sigh of defeat, the brunette plopping back down next to her; watching the television from the carpet where A Charlie Brown Christmas was playing.
They sat in silence for a while, coming all the way to the part where Linus explains the meaning of Christmas, where Norah finally spoke in a quiet tone; “Hey… What’s your full name?” This prompted the Italian to look up with furrowed brow, tilting her head ever so slightly in question. “Like, is Mel your full name, or is it short for Melanie, or Melrose, or-”
“Melodie.”
Another pause of silence, the story of Jesus’ birth playing in the background, “Oh.”
The brunette hummed unsurely, shooting the girl an odd look before turning her attention back to the television.
The movie continued to play for a few minutes, before a very subtle sentence reached the thin woman’s pierced ears; “That’s a pretty name… It suits you.”
Her head swiveled to look back at the redhead, blue eyes blinking, mouth held in a line. “Uh, thanks doll.” She said, still very unsurely.
They continued the movie in silence.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

By this point, she could really only question why being a girl caused you to be so bloody emotional all the time. It wasn’t even really that bad of a moment, only her and Mel sitting at the table, the clock at on the oven alerting them of the early hour.
And right in the middle of laughing at the brunette’s recap of a particularly amusing trip to Rome, she felt a hot liquid fall over the curve of her cheek.
The lighthearted chuckle soon slowed into an eerie silence as the brunette paused, her head twitching to the side as the tears fell down the freckled face.
Norah looked… lost. Confused as to why she was crying, a pale hand raising to lightly touch her cheek. “Uhm,” She blinked a few times, shaking her head as she looked down. “Ah, haha, I’m sorry.” She forced a smile, looking back up at the brunette. The tears continued to drop out of her green eyes.
The Italian woman moved forward, head still cocked to the side, hands rising to thumb away the tears on the shorter woman’s face.
“What’s wrong, doll?” She asked quietly, the contemplative look on her face was becoming familiar.
Her hands were a bit cool, and they shook slightly against the fleshy skin of Norah’s face.
Her own hand reached up shakily, clasping over Mel’s and her eyes scrunched as she smiled lopsidedly.

“You make me… very happy.”