Night Like That (gxg)

8. blankets and whine?

Now

It had been an appalling thing that – with all her fashion leaning personality – Ivy hadn't one thing that could qualify as festival attire. Chastity had been so scandalized she could hear none of Ivy's protests about going to her flat and taking pickings from her wardrobe.

"Look," Chastity said gravely, "I like your pencil skirts and the two pairs of jeans you own." She sighed and dramatically placed her hand over her brow. "Two pairs of jeans. Who has only two pairs of jeans? Anyways," she straightened and returned to her grave look, "we can't go to blankets and wine with anything in your wardrobe. It's gorgeous, I'll give you that but you have nothing in there."

Ivy had taken a quiet that was more protest than chastised. She'd argued passionately about how she could whip up a breathable linen shirt and pair it with her favourite pair of wash blue jeans but Chastity would hear none of it.

"It's a festival, love. So many foreigners and all those bands? Let's not even get to the fact that we are going to a sugar daddy haven."

Ivy crossed her hands over her chest. "What if I want a mummy?"

"Of course you can have a mummy. Point is, we are supposed to look like those Coachella people. Let's look like we are going to a festival and not some wine tasting event, okay?"

They had been thoroughly quiet on the way to Chastity's flat.

After paying the Uber driver and watching him go, Chastity felt the tendrils of awkward come back with a vengeance. It had been different interacting with Ivy in front of other people. In environments devoid of the fucking incident. The photocopy room was probably the only other place that had hatched up that precious guilty feeling. And maybe, just maybe, Ivy had felt it too but her friend had been so busy looking everywhere else but at her at that moment.

"Let's go! Let's go!" Chastity said in chipper as she pulled a reluctant Ivy after her. She ignored the fact that even there hands danced sinfully against each other's.

After settling in, breaking open a wine bottle and downing two glasses back to back, they were in Chastity's bedroom. Half her wardrobe was flung across the floor and the half of that half was lying cosily on her bed. The remaining was being debated over.

"How do you have way more casual clothes than work clothes? All you do is work," Ivy said as she pulled another hanger, studying the short white dress that hang over it.

"I guess I just know how to make my officials work better then." Chastity took the dress away from her, discarding it on her desk. "That won't work for a picnic scenario."

Ivy groaned. "Picnic? My jeans would have been perfect then!"

After another ten minutes of not finding the perfect outfit, Ivy declared forfeit and requested KFC in compensation. Chastity hadn't wanted to stop because she was already too deep into the groove but the growling of her stomach had her relenting to a short break.

After thirty minutes of scrolling through Netflix, nothing really capturing either of their interest, their order came and Chastity suggested a riveting game of poker.

"We don't know poker," Ivy had said as she took the deck of cards from Chastity's hands. "Do we even know any card game? Why do you have real life cards?" She was shuffling the cards rather badly, dropping stray ones and cursing as she collected them. "Maybe we can play cards against humanity with these."

Chastity had never been one for eating her chips and chicken out of packets and so she'd filled plates and brought them to the table. Ivy, she noticed, had moved off of the sofa and was sitting on the carpet, close to the coffee table. She placed the food on the coffee table, careful not to have any of them at a perilous place, then looked at her friend.