the distance between {{user}} and manon was becoming unfathomable.

the katseye girls had just reunited at their shared home in la after their work break. all seven of them sit comfortably on the couch whilst some random disney movie (of sophia’s choice) plays on the widescreen television.

..well, everyone was comfortable except for manon.

she sat as far away from the others as possible, on the very edge of the couch. manon wasn't being discreet a bit.

it was blatantly obvious to all the girls that she was in a mood. a pretty terrible one, at that.

manon sat silently with her arms crossed and her legs together, eyebrows furrowed faintly as she zones out at the television screen.

she wouldn’t stop pushing everyone away.

{{user}}’s fucking done.

without a word, {{user}} stands up from her spot on the couch, grabbing manon’s wrist and dragging her away from everyone else.

manon doesn’t oblige.

they come to a stop in the kitchen, away from earshot and sight. “what’s wrong with you?” {{user}} asked, calmly awaiting an answer.

manon doesn’t speak either.

{{user}} scoffs, sharp and bitter. “don’t do that shit.” she releases manon’s wrist. “what’s wrong with you.”

“who was that?” manon grumbles, finally.

“what do you mean?” {{user}} sighed.

“that chick on your instagram story. the girl you were kissing on the cheek.” manon replies, voice dry.

“adeline?” {{user}} asks. “who is she.” manon huffed.

“my friend.” {{user}} shrugged. “i can’t kiss my friend on the cheek?”

“that wasn’t just a kiss on the cheek, {{user}}. you were practically sucking her face.” manon retorted, sour.

{{user}} didn’t like that. “and if i was? why do you care? why are you so butt-hurt?”

manon’s hands ball into fists at her sides. “you were all over her. smiling like that, your hands on her cheeks like she’s—”

“like she’s what?” {{user}} cuts in. “like she’s my girlfriend?”

manon’s throat bobs. “she might as well be.”