notes— in case it wasn't clear, this is a drabble-chapter fic! expect shorter chapters updated more frequently with scene-centric storytelling, some jumping POVs, that sort of thing. (nobody's allowed to mention that i went over the word limit with this chapter, shhh.)

out
of
style

iii. in which she wears the bunny slippers

;;

dropped our bags on apartment floors,
took our broken hearts—put them in a drawer

.

.

It's apparent from the moment she's stepped inside the entrance hall that Lisanna's been expected. A pair of fluffy white slippers—bunnies, she notes wryly, knowing it's no accident—wait freshly laundered for her in one of the shoe storage compartments. She lightly shakes some of the rain from her hair, having accumulated enough water during the walk from the car to be dripping, and starts to unzip her boots.

Elfman teases her about the moans that escape her mouth when her travel-weary feet are finally free. Lisanna just hopes the slippers allow room for swelling. A surreptitious glance around reveals a narrow entranceway, well lit and clean but bare. The only decoration is the shoe storage shelf and the mirror above it. Stairs straight ahead lead up for about fifteen steep steps before careening to the right out of view.

"Ever!" She jumps when her brother's thundering voice booms from behind her. "We're home, babe!"

"Yeah, yeah—" Lisanna barely has time to slip on the slippers before Elfman's dragging her up the stairs. "Come on upstairs, dinner's almost ready," calls a woman who she has to guess must be Evergreen.

"Elfman, wait, my luggage—"

"It's fine, it's fine," he laughs, throwing her a grin over his shoulder. "She's been itching to meet you for years, you know!"

She purses her lip against an amused smirk at his antics and lets him drag her behind him.

Upstairs feels like part of an entirely different building. A spacious room accommodates a sitting area of plush burgundy cushions and love seats facing a large TV and sleek stereo system. The walls are heavy with what Lisanna guesses is abstract art—honestly, only in France—and the hanging ceiling lights have little green atom-model decorations. Behind the fancy furniture and fuzzy carpet is a modern kitchen, all silver gleam and black marble. A fair-skinned woman with long chestnut hair flits around the kitchen like she has wings, doing things in such a flurry that Lisanna can't even follow her actions.

When she hears them coming the woman glances up and Lisanna is hit with just how strikingly gorgeous she is. Round dark eyes, pink little lips, elegant bone structure — there's something distinctly fairy-like in the way the holds herself. Before she can stop it the words have left her lips. "Elfman, how the hell did you manage that?"

Shit. She freezes halfway through the living room, caught as if in the middle of the crime, the implications of what she just said leaving her cringing harder than ever. It just came out before she could help it but with the words hanging in the air, could she have introduced herself in a worse way? Like, is it even possible? Lisanna doubts it.

But Evergreen doesn't seem fazed in the slightest, kissing her boyfriend in greeting without a care in the world. When she turns and gives Lisanna a quick once over, the girl in question tries hard to re-arrange her features into some semblance of a smile.

"I'm Evergreen," the woman nods, watching Lisanna over the rim of her glasses. "I've heard a lot about you from your siblings. So we're finally meeting."

She already hates me. Oh my god.

"Lis, wine or juice?" Elfman's head is burrowed some cupboard, searching for glasses.

"Ah, yes—water's fine, thank you— um," she stumbles over her words. "You too. I mean, that's— I'm Lisanna Strauss." She bows her head slightly before stretching her lips into a wide, friendly smile. "Thank you for taking care of my idiot brother all these years. It's nice to finally meet you."

Like ice cracking over water, Evergreen answers with a warm smile of her own. "The pleasure's all mine." She gestures to one of the tall stools by the marble-top table. "Take a seat, you must be tired. I'm just draining the pasta, won't take a second."

Having survived preliminary scrutiny, Lisanna obediently hops onto one of the stools. Now off her feet, her exhaustion hits her like a ton of bricks. Sensing her fatigue, Evergreen shoos Elfman away from the cupboard he's still shuffling around in and gets the drinks herself, setting ice water in front of Lisanna before she can so much as leave her seat.

"Thanks," she laughs awkwardly, and goes to take a sip.

Instead of taking a seat beside her, Elfman's spooning green liquid out of a saucepan as Evergreen pours pasta into a large glass bowl. He falls comfortably by her side like it's second nature, not even having to think about coordinating his actions with hers. They work like a smooth-oiled machine, filling in each other's gaps: Elfman gets the spoons, Evergreen the forks; he pours the thick green sauce—the promised avocado, Lisanna guesses—over the steaming torchietti as she mixes it in.

Despite the loneliness crawling up the inside of her curved wrists, locking her inside stiff elbows, Lisanna loves watching them move in sync around the kitchen. They prepare the meal like they've done it a hundred times before. So comfortable with one another, in a harmony that only time and practice and patience can grow; it's lovely to see. Lisanna's chest feels warm.

"What are you grinning at?" Elfman shoots at her from across Evergreen's head, cocking an eyebrow. The grin from the airport is still in place and showing no signs of leaving.

Lisanna shakes her head mutely, unaware of the curve of her own lips until it was pointed out.

"Ah!" Evergreen throws up her hands suddenly, almost whacking Elfman in the eye. Lisanna's cackling before she knows it; there's little specks of green in his white hair from where Evergreen flicked it with the spoon still clenched in her hand. The perpetrator, however, doesn't seem to notice her boyfriend's offended huff. "I forgot the shrimp, damn it, damn it!" Before Lisanna can pull the smirk off her face, Evergreen rounds on her. "Lis, be a dear, fetch the white bag from the entranceway, would you? I must have forgotten to bring it in."

Lisanna nods eagerly, slipping off the stool and reclaiming her bunny slippers. It isn't until she's almost at the stairs, with Elfman's incredulous "You splashed me, Ever!" and the answering, "You idiot, you've got sauce all over you!" resounding in her ears, that she registers what Evergreen called her. Lis. So naturally, as if she didn't even need to think about it, as if she was used to referring to her by nickname, the endearment casual and natural. Surely, she must have picked it up from Lisanna's siblings.

The warmth in her chest increases at the thought. Just thinking about it like that—Mira-nee telling stories that begin with "this one time Lis got lost on the subway," and everyone knowing who she means, Elf-niichan telling his girlfriend about Lis' animal-nerd tendencies—has her squeezing her eyes shut with happiness. It's such a stupid thing to get happy over, but—

Wait, Elf-niichan? The thought stops her short as she's bending down to grab the white grocery bag of seafood. She hasn't called him that since— oh, since years ago, back when her mother still accompanied her on trips to Paris to visit her father and siblings. What feels like a lifetime ago... Wow.

This is what she's thinking about—what has her distracted—when the front door swings open, slamming her square on the crown of her head and sending her careening into the floor with a shocked little shriek.

"Jesus Christ! Oh, fuck. Pfft—"

"Bixlow! Don't laugh, for God's sake."

"Such an asshole."

"Laxus, we can both see you grinning, too..."

"I'm allowed to, she's my sister-in-law."

"I wish he'd stop howling already. It's indecent."

"You think everything's indecent."

"I can't believe he's still giggling. Look, she's bleeding!"

"Ah, shit. Mira's gonna—"

"I'm gonna what? Wait, Bixlow, are you... are you crying?"

Lisanna squeezes her eyes shut, still curled up on the floor, and blindly thinks through the pain searing in her scalp that today is just not her day for introductions.