Work Text:
Winter is harsh on Perlah.
The cold gnaws at her fingers, pricks at her veins like a million syringes going in all at once, gives her skin a constant flush that makes her look perpetually sick with a cold.
She hates when snow starts falling and sticking to the ground.
Her body is built for tropical air, the sun kissing her skin until it’s golden. Yet she has lived all her life in Pittsburgh, familiar with its gray skies and white christmases. So Perlah sucks it up, wraps herself in more layers than usual, wears earmuffs over her hijab, and braves the bitter air of the snowy evening.
It’s one of the nights where the day shift team tries to have a life outside of the hospital and spend time with each other without yelling about stats, charts, and medication. She doesn’t usually attend them, Perlah likes her time alone, especially when the children are off to their grandparents. God knows they could all use it. But she’s going tonight because, like every other evening where she finds herself being dragged by her co-workers, Princess begged her specifically to come.
And who was she to deny Princess’ almond eyes anything?
“You came!” The culprit takes her in her arms.
“Like you gave me a choice?” Perlah rolls her eyes and returns the hug, feels it tighten around her when Princess’ squeals into her ear.
“Perlah’s here!” Princess yells over the live music to get everyone’s attention. Perlah takes off her coat and earmuffs while Princess dusts off snow from her clothes. A chorus of hi’s and hello’s fill their small space in the bar and Perlah replies with a smile and a nod. Princess drags her to the counter and pushes her to sit on a bar stool.
“I have your pop here.” Princess pushes a can across the surface, her fingernails—usually short with colorless polish—are red tonight. One of the few indulgences she grants herself on a night out. Perlah picks up the can, opens it and hears the hiss of air leaving while Princess continues talking.
“I think Garcia and Santos hit it off, I’m not confirming anything though since they still look like they could be punching each other sometimes, but they do seem like the kind of people to be into that stuff, you know?”
Perlah eyes the couple in question, Garcia on her phone while Santos play punches Whitaker before stealing a glance at Garcia, Perlah nods. “Yeah. I bet that one’s going to seep into the work place one of these days.”
“It has been since day one.” Princess giggles, Perlah laughs with her.
They take a few minutes to look around, but Perlah knows Princess is waiting to tell her something with the way she keeps glancing at her every few seconds. Perlah takes it upon herself to get it out and flicks the other woman’s forehead.
“I’m going to take more shots than I can handle,” Princess says, like she’s asking for permission, brown eyes staring at Perlah with a pout on her lips.
“Okay?” Perlah replies with her eyebrows raised. “Whatever that means.”
“Please please please, Perlah. Just one night, please.”
“What are you talking about?” Perlah laughs, endeared at the look on Princess’ face. “Go do your thing.”
“Because I know you’ll be taking care of me and I need you to agree while I’m sober so I don’t feel like I’m annoying the hell out of you.”
“Girl, when are you not annoying me?” Princess pouts deeper, all Perlah can do is smirk at her best friend's pleading eyes. “Go. Dance your heart out, I’ll be here when it’s time to go home.” The smile Princess gives her can melt snow and any regret that Perlah thinks she will have is thrown out of the window.
“Kaya mahal kita eh!” Princess says, hugging Perlah again. Perlah feels a soft brush of lips on her cheek before Princess is gone, hair bouncing as she skips to the next table, taking a shot off Donnie’s hand and throwing her head back to down it. Yells of agreement, and disappointment from Donnie, fill the other table.
“Love you, too.” Perlah whispers to the empty space in front of her, exhaling as she takes another swig of her drink.
”Anyone call an order to accompany nurse yearner over here?” She hears a voice say from behind. Santos comes into view, taking the seat on her left and gesturing for the bartender. “Two shots of tequila, please.”
“I don’t drink,” Perlah tells her flatly.
“I am fully aware. Who says they’re for you?” Santos looks at her with an eyebrow raised. Her drinks arrive and she downs one of two immediately. Perlah watches.
“So?” Santos directs her attention back to Perlah again, sucking a lemon wedge between her teeth. “How are you? What’s up, a-te?” She continues, enunciating her words.
“Fuck you.” Perlah laughs, flipping her off. Santos takes her finger and moves it away from her face.
“I’m being a respectful bunso and addressing you as an elder,” Santos points out, sticking her tongue out after without letting go of Perlah’s finger.
“Which is the limit of your respect for me, it seems.”
“Ouch! Grabe ka naman.” Santos finally lets go of her to dramatically clutch her heart. “You hurt me endlessly. Whatever happened to solidarity?”
Perlah scoffs at the younger girl's antics, rolling her eyes for exaggeration, but a smile finds its way to her lips. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have some tension to maintain with Garcia?”
“Apparently, she won’t talk to me yet. I’m letting her cool off for a bit.”
“Trouble in paradise?” Perlah asks with a smirk.
“At least I’m in paradise. What are you doing acting like a sad puppy whose been denied from having treats over here?”
Perlah sighs. “Whatever, Santos. Go fix your troubles and I’ll take care of mine.”
Santos laughs, catching the bartender’s attention to order another drink. “One bloody mary and I’ll be out of your hair,” she hears Santos say.
Perlah focuses on her can and decides that she wants a mocktail. “Hey, add a virgin mojito to that under her tab, please.”
Santos looks at her like she’s offended. Perlah snorts. “Just for tonight, doc.”
“You’re lucky you're older than me, Alawi.”
The drinks arrive swiftly and Perlah finishes her pop to take an initial sip of her new order.
“Catcha ya later, ate Perlah. Gotta send this peace offering if I don’t want to sleep on the couch tonight.” Santos takes the second tequila shot and the bloody mary when she stands. “Also, pretty femme at 6 o’clock keeps looking at me like she’s trying to explode me with her mind.”
“What the fuck does that even—?”
Santos disappears before she can finish her question and it’s Princess that she catches when she turns around.
“Dance with me?”
“You don’t look drunk.” Perlah notes, tilting her head.
Princess shakes her head in response, taking Perlah’s hand and dragging her off her seat. She does not fight. When has she ever fought against the whims and desires of her best friend, anyway? She feels herself slip off from the metal stool with ease, her hand warm against Princess’ own, drink untouched and long forgotten.
Princess is giggling as she leads them to the small dance floor, barely a proper space to dance with people, but the crowd makes do. It’s so little, Perlah is squished against Princess. She does not even hear the music the band is playing, entranced by how Princess is smiling directly at her.
It’s warmer than it has ever been, than any other summer Perlah can remember. Their hands are intertwined now, Princess pressing their palms together and her fingers landing snugly between Perlah’s knuckles before she can even process what’s happening.
Her chest aches from their proximity, from Princess’ beautiful brown eyes—expressing emotions Perlah has never seen from them before—staring into hers, from the fact that this will only ever happen tonight and Perlah can never feel the bumps and callouses on Princess’ hands like this again.
The spell is broken when an ABBA’s cover blasts through the speakers, Angel Eyes’ boppy intro taking Princess’ eyes off her and into the stage. She grins so wide, eyes twinkling with excitement, that Perlah almost forgives the live band for taking away her undivided attention.
“It’s ABBA!” She exclaims, her Filipino accent slipping out. Perlah, helpless as she is, can only nod along excitedly. Princess starts bouncing around, whipping her hair lightly from side to side, both hands letting go of Perlah to wave in the air. Perlah curses the absence of warmth, but when she looks at Princess sway her hips to the music, she is pacified once again.
Perlah feels like she can forgive anything so long as Princess is smiling.
The music grows louder and louder with each passing song, Princess getting lost in the music and Perlah following suit. It is the best time she’s spent in this small, dingy bar that her co-workers seem to love.
When Princess complains about her strapped heels digging into her ankles and Perlah can feel her hijab stick to the back of her neck due to sweat, they start to leave the dance floor—now hosting a thicker crowd than when they first came in.
They find themselves in the bar counter again, Perlah kneeling down to take off Princess’ heels and switching their footwear. An unwritten agreement they seemed to have reached when they became good enough friends who spend time at these places together. She’s made sure to wear comfortable sneakers or her lighter Doc Martens since the first night it happened.
Perlah looks silly wearing kitten heels under her baggy denim jeans, but it's a small price to pay to avoid Princess complaining about her painful feet on the car ride home.
“One last shot before we head home?” Perlah asks once they settle.
“Two?” Princess offers, smile reaching her ears and eyes disappearing completely.
“Princess, alam mo anong nangyayari pag ganyan,” Perlah starts berating her, “I swear if you come to your shift hungover I’ll—“
“—You’ll help me hydrate!” Princess interjects, the grin still on her face, and Perlah hates that it’s true. She can tell her off all she wants, but Perlah has already packed her duffel bag for the next day with Pocari Sweat and Gatorade Blue Bolt, an unopened pack of Vicks inhaler that Princess always requests, and she plans to fix a good serving of shrimp sinigang in her thermal soup flask first thing at dawn.
Perlah sighs in defeat.
“You’re the best.” Princess taps her on the chest. “But since you danced with me tonight, I’ll only have one more drink.”
“Gago ka talaga.” Perlah flicks her on the forehead again.
“Mahal mo naman ako!” Princess sticks her tongue out at her before calling the bartender for her final tequila shot.
“Whatever!” Perlah shoots back, the unspoken confession stuck in her throat.
When Princess takes her final shot for the night, lemon wedge between her teeth, Perlah cannot do anything but stare. Feeling an irrational sense of jealousy from the lipstick stain on the shot glass and the lemon, cursing them for touching Princess’ lips.
“Anyway,” Princess starts, and Perlah is immediately listening, “Mahal din naman kita,” she says, getting up and letting her lips brush Perlah’s cheek for the second time tonight.
And although they have always been affectionate towards one another, throwing love you’s and touching freely, there is something about tonight that makes Perlah’s brain pause and short circuit. She takes a mental note to review these moments for safekeeping later. Right now, she follows Princess to bid goodbye to their friends. Santos catches her eye and winks.
At the door, in perfect choreography they’ve known since forever, Perlah helps Princess into her coat. A short pause to zip her up and make sure everything is in place. Then, Princess is helping Perlah into hers, takes her time to place Perlah’s earmuffs on her, making sure it's snug on her head.
Princess’ hand lingers on Perlah’s ears, staring into her eyes like she’s searching for something. A smile comes after before she finally nods, a sign for them to get out of the place and head home.