cain

pt 1 - running

y/n lay flat across the couch, one leg hanging over the armrest, eyes fixed on the ceiling as if staring hard enough might stop her brain from replaying the last twelve hours.

it didn’t.

her chest rose slowly before another tired sigh slipped past her lips. she rolled her head to the side to where her phone sat face down on the coffee table.

she stared at it for a few seconds. nothing.

she looked back at the ceiling but five seconds later she was looking at it again.

still nothing. “pathetic,” she muttered to herself, she wasn’t sure if she meant the phone or herself.

her thumb found the silver ring around her index finger almost automatically, twisting it around once, twice, three times. she’d barely noticed she’d been doing it all morning until the skin beneath it had started to ache.

it was a nervous habit, one manon had teased relentlessly.

“you’re gonna wear a groove into your finger one day.”

y/n squeezed her eyes shut.

even now, even after last night, she could still hear her voice so clearly it was almost irritating.

there wasn’t a single part of manon that time had managed to blur.

not her laugh, the way she’d drag out y/n’s name whenever she wanted something, especially not her eyes.

those stupid eyes. y/n had lost more arguments to those eyes than she cared to admit.

she’d spend days convincing herself she was done. then manon would show up looking like she’d barely slept either, lower lip caught between her teeth, those stupid brown eyes looking up through her lashes-

“can we just talk?”

and suddenly every speech y/n had rehearsed in the shower disappeared. it was embarrassing how quickly she’d fold.

she hated that about herself and she hated that manon probably knew it too.

because she always came back.

the first breakup had lasted four days.

y/n remembered sitting on this exact couch, phone clutched in both hands, rereading a conversation she’d already memorised.

she’d sworn she wouldn’t text first. lara had walked in, taken one look at her, and laughed.

“just text her.”

“i’m not texting her. she can text me.”

she’d lasted another hour then she’d caved.

come over?

manon had been at the apartment twenty-three minutes later. they’d never even talked about the argument. one minute they’d been awkwardly standing in the kitchen. the next manon was laughing then y/n was laughing too.

then somehow they were kissing like they’d been apart for years instead of less than a week.

it had always been like that, the making up was easy. it was staying together that proved impossible.

because neither of them knew when to stop.

they loved with everything they had, they argued the exact same way. both stubborn enough to stand their ground long after they’d forgotten why they were standing there in the first place.

neither willing to be the first one to apologise, both secretly hoping the other would. their relationship became this exhausting game of chicken neither of them wanted to win.

who would text first, who would say sorry first, who would knock on whose door or who loved the other enough to cave.

the answer, more often than not…was y/n.

she’d tell herself this time was different.

this time she’d let manon miss her, she’d choose herself then she’d hear that voice again.

“hi.”

just one word, that was all it took. it wasn’t fair. nothing about manon was fair.

she had this awful habit of looking at y/n like she was seeing something nobody else could like there wasn’t another person in the room.

it made y/n feel understood, seen, wanted and it was addictive. because when things with manon were good…they were unbelievable.

manon made ordinary things feel important.

those were the memories that made leaving impossible. people always assumed relationships like theirs were all fighting.

they weren’t. if they were, walking away would’ve been easy. the problem was that they loved each other just as fiercely as they argued which somehow made the arguments hurt even more.

last night had started over something so stupid y/n wasn’t even sure she’d be able to explain it to someone else.

plans. that’s all it had been. manon wanted to be spontaneous, y/n wanted to know what was happening.

one sarcastic comment. another one back.

a sigh. an eye roll. the atmosphere shifted so quickly it almost gave her whiplash.

then came the familiar dance.

“why are you shutting down?”

“because every time i say something you twist it.”

“i’m trying to understand you.”

“well you’re not.”

back and forth. round and round. the same conversation wearing different clothes.

they’d had it a hundred times before, they’d probably have it another hundred if somebody didn’t finally break the cycle.

y/n remembered standing by the apartment door, keys already in her hand. manon had been standing a few feet away, arms folded and jaw clenched.

she’d looked angry but y/n knew her well enough to see what sat underneath it. fear, she’d always been able to tell.

the trouble was manon could always tell when y/n was scared too. neither of them ever admitted it instead they’d turn it into anger because anger felt safer.

“maybe we just shouldn’t do this anymore.”

the words had slipped out before y/n had fully thought them through. the room had gone quiet, manon had stared at her for a long time.

long enough that y/n had almost taken them back instead manon nodded once.

“okay.”

just okay. nothing else.

y/n had walked out anyway, she’d spent the entire journey home praying she’d hear footsteps behind her, that manon would call her name grab her wrist and tell her not to leave.

she never had.

that hurt more than another argument would’ve because now y/n didn’t know was this another breakup? or was it one of their breakups?

the kind where one of them eventually showed up with a quiet apology, where they promised this one would be different, where they kissed before either of them had really forgiven the other.

she honestly couldn’t tell anymore, they’d broken up so many times the lines had started to blur.

together.

apart.

talking.

not talking.

it all felt the same now.

her eyes drifted back to the phone, still dark.

she reached for it, her thumb hovered over the screen for a second then she stopped herself.

not this time.

she dropped it back onto the table with a dull clack and let out a humourless laugh.

she’d said those exact three words after every breakup they’d ever had.

not this time.

somewhere, deep down, she already knew the worst part. she wasn’t waiting to see if manon would text, she was waiting to see how long it would take before she convinced herself to text first.

the front door clicked.

a second later it swung open with the familiar metallic jingle of keys hitting the lock, followed by a burst of cool air that carried the faint smell of rain and fabric softener inside.

voices, quiet at first then clearer as trainers squeaked against the wooden floor.

“i’m telling you,” daniela laughed, slightly out of breath, “that last set absolutely did not count.”

“it did.”

“lara-“

they rounded the corner into the living room together and their conversation stopped. lara’s shoulders dropped “…seriously?”

y/n didn’t move from her position on the couch “hi.”

lara stared for a moment before dropping her gym bag beside the dining table with a dull thud.

she’d known y/n for almost three years now.

they’d met during first year after being thrown together by university accommodation, complete strangers forced to share an apartment and somewhere along the way they became inseparable. enough so that they moved in together even after college. she was also the reason y/n and manon got together, she’d introduced them as manon was lara’s best friend.

lara had seen y/n at her best. she’d also seen…this more times than she could count.

which was exactly why she wasn’t particularly sympathetic anymore, daniela, on the other hand, softened immediately.

she and lara had been together for nearly a year now, though she’d practically been living in the apartment long before anyone admitted that was what was happening.

she’d become part of the furniture, part of the routine and somewhere along the line, she’d become y/n’s friend too.

she looked at y/n now, eyebrows knitting together “…you okay?” before y/n could answer-

“she’s fine,” lara cut in, already pulling her hoodie over her head. daniela glanced at her “babe-

“she is.”

“i’m literally lying right here.”

lara pointed vaguely towards the couch “which is where you’ve been every single time this happens.”

y/n frowned “i’ve been up.”

lara snorted “you’re so fucking predictable.”

“that’s harsh.”

“it’s true.” she disappeared into the kitchen, pulling bottles of water from the fridge before tossing one towards daniela “this is what…” she paused, thinking “fifth time?”

“lara.”

“sixth?”

“i’m not counting.”

“because you’ve lost count.”

y/n let out a long sigh, rubbing both hands over her face “it’s different.”

lara laughed “you say that every single time.”

“because it is.”

“no,” lara replied, leaning against the kitchen counter “the argument’s different.”

she took a sip of water “the ending never is.”

silence settled over the room.

daniela walked over and perched on the arm of the sofa beside y/n “what happened?”

y/n hesitated “…i don’t even know.”

“see?” lara called from the kitchen “that’s my point.”

“i know what happened,” y/n defended quietly.

“do you? because every time you two break up, it starts over something tiny.” lara counted absentmindedly on her fingers “someone’s late, someone doesn’t communicate, someone says something sarcastic, someone gets defensive.” she looked directly at y/n.

“and then three days later you’re sat on this couch waiting for your phone to buzz.”

y/n hated how accurate she was “she’s not the only stubborn one,” daniela said gently.

lara nodded “i know.”

“you make it sound like it’s all y/n.”

“because y/n is the one living with me so i have to live with it too”

that earned the tiniest smile from daniela.

lara continued “i’ve spoken to manon too.”

y/n looked up “she’s exactly the same.” she folded her arms “you both do this thing where you’d rather be miserable than be the first one to back down.”

“because she never apologises.”

“neither do you only after you’ve both spent four days pretending you don’t care.”

y/n opened her mouth and closed it again because lara wasn’t wrong, that was the annoying part.

daniela rested her hand lightly against y/n’s shoulder “maybe…” she chose her words carefully “maybe loving someone isn’t always enough.”

y/n looked down at her hands, the silver ring spun slowly beneath her thumb “…i know.”

“do you really? because if you did…” daniela offered a small, sympathetic smile “would you still keep putting yourselves through this?”

buzz.

the sound cut cleanly through the apartment and all three heads turned at once. the phone lit up on the coffee table.

just one name glowing against the black screen.

manon 🖤

lara sighed first “answer it.”

daniela glanced between the two of them “…or don’t.”

lara looked over “what?”

“maybe…” daniela shrugged. “maybe a little space wouldn’t be the worst thing”

“space?” lara echoed “they’ve had space.”

“not really.” she looked at the phone again “they break up and spend the whole time waiting for the other person to text.”

y/n couldn’t take her eyes off the screen.

it buzzed again, another message.

lara noticed the way y/n’s fingers twitched. the way her breathing had changed ever so slightly. she’d seen it enough times to recognise it instantly.

“go on,” she said quietly “if you’re going to answer…” her expression softened, only a fraction “…just stop pretending you’re not going to.”

y/n kept her eyes fixed on it anyway.

after another minute or so, she leaned forward, finally picking it up from the coffee table. lara watched her over the rim of her water bottle “well?”

y/n unlocked the screen, her face fell into a flat, unimpressed expression “…you’re kidding.”

“what?”

y/n turned the phone around “a tiktok.”

lara frowned “that’s it?”

“a tiktok.”

daniela leaned over slightly “what is it?”

y/n looked back at the screen “…some stupid pasta recipe”

“seriously?” she muttered, dropping her head back against the couch “a tiktok?”

lara let out a quiet breath through her nose “well…”

y/n shot her a look “don’t.”

“i’m just saying.”

“don’t.”

“maybe she doesn’t know how to start the conversation.” lara shrugged.

“maybe.” y/n scoffed “that’s ridiculous.”

“is it?”

“yes.”

lara tilted her head “you get defensive the second she tries to have an actual conversation.”

“i do not…because she-“

“exactly.” lara pointed at her “you’ve already got your answer loaded before she’s even finished the question.”

y/n opened her mouth, closed it then opened it again “…that’s not true.” lara raised an eyebrow.

“okay,” y/n admitted reluctantly “sometimes…maybe”

daniela spoke before y/n could argue again “i don’t think sending a tiktok is necessarily a bad thing.”

both of them looked at her, she shrugged “it’s… low pressure.”

“low pressure?” y/n repeated.

“she’s probably testing the waters.”

“with fucking pasta?”

“with something that doesn’t require either of you to immediately unpack your relationship.” lara nodded when daniela spoke.

y/n looked between them “are we genuinely defending this?”

“i’m just saying…” daniela replied, “if she’d texted saying ‘can we talk,’ would you have answered?”

y/n looked back down at the phone “…probably not.”

“but you still opened the tiktok.”

she hated that daniela had a point and lara smirked “see? thank you.”

daniela looked across at her “i’m not agreeing with you.”

lara rolled her eyes dramatically “whose side are you on?”

“nobody’s.” she glanced at y/n before looking back at lara “i just think maybe…”

she chose her words carefully “…maybe you could stop automatically ending up on manon’s side.”

lara groaned “i’m not on manon’s side.”

“you are a little.”

“mm.”

“don’t ‘mm’ me.” daniela said shooting her girlfriend a glare. lara looked at the ceiling for a second as if asking for patience, then walked around the coffee table and dropped herself onto the couch beside y/n.

without saying anything, she hooked an arm around y/n’s shoulders and pulled her sideways until her head bumped lightly against her shoulder.

y/n complained immediately “lara.”

“shut up.”

y/n half-heartedly tried to shove her away, lara barely moved after a few seconds she sighed “you’re both exhausting” lara rested her chin briefly against the top of y/n’s head.

“she started it.”

“stop acting like you’re both twelve.”

y/n huffed, wriggling free from lara’s arm with considerably more effort than she’d expected. she scooted a little further along the couch “i’m not texting her.”

she unlocked her phone again. lara watched her thumbs move across the screen “…then what are you doing?”

“texting megan.”

“why?”

“because i’m asking if she wants to get on valorant.”

lara glanced over at daniela and daniela glanced back, neither of them said anything, they didn’t need to.

the look lasted barely a second before both of them looked away again. y/n, thankfully, didn’t notice.

~~~~~

y/n pushed her bedroom door shut with the heel of her foot.

her room was dim despite the late afternoon sun. the curtains had been left half closed, letting narrow strips of light fall across the carpet and the unmade bed in the corner.

her guitar rested against the wall beneath the window, untouched for weeks now, a thin layer of dust beginning to settle across the black case beside it.

she peeled off her jeans as she crossed the room, leaving them where they landed before tugging an oversized university t-shirt over her head. it hung loose enough to cover most of her black boxers.

she dropped into her desk chair, pulling one leg underneath herself as it rolled back slightly across the wooden floor. the computer woke with a tap of the keyboard.

discord.

spotify.

valorant.

the routine barely required thought anymore before the game had even finished loading-

meimei invited you to a party.

y/n smiled despite herself she clicked accept.

“took you long enough.” megan’s voice filtered through the headset, slightly tinny as her microphone adjusted.

y/n leaned back, reaching for the hair tie on her wrist to tie her hair out of her face “that’s because you’ve got no patience.”

the queue popped almost instantly. by the first round they’d already fallen into the rhythm they’d spent years perfecting.

“one’s already market.”

“i’m flashing.”

“wait-“

too late, y/n swung the corner anyway and the screen flashed red.

dead.

megan laughed immediately “you said wait after i’d already peeked.”

“i said it before.” y/n rolled her eyes.

the next few rounds passed the same way they always did. megan quietly calling positions before y/n had even noticed them.

by the end of the match, y/n was sitting sideways in her chair, one knee tucked against her chest while absentmindedly spinning a pen between her fingers during the queue timer.

outside, rain had started tapping softly against the window.

inside, the room was lit almost entirely by the glow of her monitor. she stared at the loading screen “…lara and daniela are getting in my nerves”

there was a small pause not because megan didn’t know what she meant but because she was giving her room to decide whether she actually wanted to talk about it.

apparently she did “they’ve decided they’re relationship experts now.”

megan gave a quiet hum “have they?”

“apparently i’m predictable.”

another hum “…you are.”

y/n let her head fall back dramatically against the chair “oh, not you as well.”

“what?”

“i thought you were meant to back me.”

“i am backing you.” megan chuckled.

the next map loaded in, neither of them clicked ready.

“they basically sat me down like i was about to make the worst decision of my life.” y/n picked up the pen again, rolling it between her fingers.

“‘maybe loving someone isn’t enough.’” she let out a dry laugh “‘maybe you both need space.’”

she looked across the room without really seeing it, her eyes settling somewhere above the wardrobe “it’s like everyone suddenly knows what’s best for me.”

silence settled over the call for a moment until megan broke it gently “do you think they’re wrong?”

y/n didn’t answer straight away, she drummed the pen lightly against the edge of the desk “…i don’t know.”

the words came quieter than she’d expected. she sighed through her nose before straightening up again “actually…”

her cursor drifted away from the ready button “fuck this.”

“hm?”

“i can’t be bothered sitting in my room all night.” she reached for her phone instead “wanna go get food or something?”

there wasn’t even a pause “yeah.”

y/n smiled to herself “that was quick.”

“i was hungry before you asked.”

“give me twenty?” y/n ended the call only long enough to swap her headset for her keys.

she stood in front of her wardrobe for a second, eyes skimming over clothes she’d worn a hundred times before.

a pair of loose-fitting cargos and a faded black t-shirt. she tugged it over her head before reaching for an forest-green overshirt hanging from the back of her door.

she caught sight of herself in the mirror, ran both hands through her hair until it sat vaguely how she wanted.

her wallet disappeared into one cargo pocket, phone into the other. she grabbed her keys from the desk, the lanyard swinging around her fingers as she headed for the bedroom door.

the apartment was quieter now. lara and daniela had claimed opposite ends of the sofa only to somehow end up tangled together anyway.

daniela was tucked comfortably beneath lara’s arm, a blanket thrown lazily across both of their legs. some reality programme played unnoticed in front of them.

lara looked up first as y/n slipped her trainers on by the front door “where’re you going?”

she straightened, keys jingling lightly in her hand “getting food.”

“with?”

y/n looked at her like the answer should’ve been obvious “megan.”

there was the briefest pause. lara’s shoulders sank almost imperceptibly as she leaned her head back against the sofa.

“…right.” it wasn’t disappointment just more the quiet resignation of someone watching a film they’d already seen too many times to count.

beside her, daniela’s eyes flickered towards lara for only a second before returning to y/n. “have fun” she said warmly.

lara gave a small shake of her head, somewhere between amused and exhausted “see you later.”

“yeah.” y/n reached for the door handle “don’t wait up.”

“wasn’t planning on it.”

the front door opened with its familiar creak.

a rush of cooler evening air slipped inside.

then, just as quickly the door clicked shut behind her.

for a moment, neither lara nor daniela spoke. the sound of y/n’s footsteps echoed faintly down the hallway before disappearing altogether. lara let out a slow breath through her nose “…every time.”

daniela glanced sideways at her “what?”

lara kept her eyes on the closed front door.

“she thinks she’s distracting herself.”

“and?” daniela reached for the remote, lowering the television another few clicks until it became little more than background noise “…sometimes distracting yourself is exactly what you need.”

lara didn’t answer she just stared at the door a second longer before leaning back into the sofa, unconvinced.

~~~~~

the restaurant was loud enough that nobody paid them any attention.

cutlery clinked against plates, glasses knocked together somewhere behind them.

someone at the next table laughed loud enough to turn a few heads before the noise folded back into the steady hum of friday evening.

their booth was tucked into the corner beside the window, half-hidden by a tall plant, a basket of chips sat between them, already half empty.

megan reached across the table without looking, stealing another one.

y/n tried to steal one back.

megan caught her wrist before she could reach the basket. for a split second, they both stopped then megan let go.

“nice try.”

“cheat.” y/n laughed, shaking her head “i actually hate you.”

“you’ve been saying that since we were 10.”

“and i’ve meant it every time.”

“course you have.” their food arrived before either of them could argue any further. they barely managed three bites before the conversation had wandered somewhere completely different.

work, a customer megan had dealt with that week, an old teacher they’d bumped into a month ago who’d still insisted on calling them by the wrong names.

somewhere in the middle of the story, y/n snorted then laughed. the kind that caught her completely off guard.

she tried to answer but couldn’t. megan looked at her for half a second before she started laughing too.

“don’t-“ y/n wheezed “don’t look at me.”

“i’m literally looking at you.”

“stop.”

“why?”

“because then i laugh more.” which only made megan laugh harder.

by the time either of them had managed to breathe again, tears had gathered in the corners of y/n’s eyes. she wiped at them with the sleeve of her shirt, still smiling “we’re actually embarrassing.”

“a little.”

“people are staring.”

megan glanced around theatrically “…let them.”

that only set y/n off again. it had always been like this. they could spend an hour talking about absolutely nothing and somehow leave with aching ribs.

half their conversations weren’t even funny, they just knew exactly how to make the other laugh. the rhythm had been built over years.

one sentence or one look or one badly timed joke and suddenly neither of them could breathe.

when the laughter finally settled, y/n leaned back against the booth with a contented sigh “…this is what i needed.” the words escaped before she’d really thought about them.

megan smiled “good.” she picked absent-mindedly at the edge of her napkin “i’m glad.”

y/n reached for her drink “thanks for coming.”

megan looked at her over the rim of her own glass “you never have to thank me.”

their eyes met “you know i’ll always be here.” she said it so simply it almost disappeared beneath the noise of the restaurant.

y/n smiled back “…i know.” megan held her gaze a second longer than she meant to.

there she was again, the girl she’d known since she was a kid, laughing with flushed cheeks, completely unaware that megan still found herself noticing things like that, completely unaware that she’d always notice.

megan looked away first.

“you wanna split dessert?”

“is that even a question?”

they lingered anyway, neither of them in any rush to leave. outside, the sky had slipped from blue into deep evening, rain still clinging to the pavement beneath the streetlights.

y/n traced lazy circles through the condensation on her glass “…i almost texted-“

megan reached for the bill before y/n could finis’“they’ve got an ice cream place two streets over.”

y/n blinked “…what?”

“the pistachio one’s good.” she folded the receipt neatly in half “i’ve been craving it all week.”

y/n studied her for a second “…you’re changing the subject.”

megan’s smile never quite disappeared “am i?”she shrugged lightly, slipping her card back into her wallet “i just figured…” her voice stayed easy “…you’ve spent enough of today talking about her.”

the sentence hung between them.

megan didn’t ask what had happened, ask if y/n was okay or whether they were getting back together.

instead, she stood, grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair and smiled “come on.”

she nodded towards the door “before the good flavours sell out.”

y/n looked at her for another second before laughing softly through her nose “…ice cream it is.”

~~~~~

the evening air had cooled by the time they stepped back onto the pavement.

the earlier rain had left the streets slick beneath the glow of the streetlights, every passing car dragging ribbons of reflected light behind it.

megan nudged y/n lightly with her shoulder as they waited to cross the road “left or right?”

“you tell me you’re the one that chose the place”

“yeah but i’m so bad at directions….uhm…left it is.” the crossing beeped.nthey stepped off the kerb together without thinking, falling into the same pace they always seemed to find.

y/n shoved both hands into the pockets of her cargos as a breeze lifted the front of her shirt “i’m definitely getting chocolate.”

“you get chocolate every time.”

“because it’s good.”

“it’s boring.”

y/n laughed “you’re boring.”

“and yet you still choose to spend time with me.”

they walked another few steps before megan bumped her shoulder against y/n’s again. it wasn’t enough to move her just enough to make her look over.

without really thinking about it, megan slipped her arm through y/n’s. it happened so naturally neither of them acknowledged it. they’d done it since they were teenagers, walking home from school, wandering around shopping malls with nowhere to be, queueing for concerts or crossing busy roads.

it had never meant anything. at least that was what y/n believed. she carried on talking as though nothing had changed.

“…and then lara genuinely looked at me like i’d committed a crime.”

megan smiled “did she?”

y/n leaned into her slightly as they walked around another group of people coming the opposite way.

the contact lasted barely a second, long enough for megan to notice and for her heart to do something she’d spent years pretending it didn’t.

she kept her eyes ahead nodding in the right places, smiling whenever y/n looked across at her.

but the truth was she’d stopped hearing half the conversation. because y/n was here, walking beside her and laughing again. the crease that had lived between her eyebrows all afternoon had finally disappeared.

there was colour back in her face and her smile wasn’t forced anymore. megan would’ve listened to the same story ten times over if it meant seeing that smile again.

a familiar guilt settled quietly in her chest.

she hated that part of herself, the selfish part. the one she’d never admit existed.

she never wanted y/n to be hurt, wanted another argument or wanted another night spent crying on the sofa but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t quietly treasure the days that followed.

because they looked like this. hours where y/n was hers again, not in the way she wished.

but just hers to spend time with, hers to make laugh, hers to distract.

for a little while, manon wasn’t the centre of every conversation and megan got the version of y/n she’d missed.

sometimes…if she let herself imagine for just a second…she could almost pretend.

pretend they were just another couple wandering into town after dinner. that this wasn’t another chapter in the endless cycle of breakups and reconciliations.

that y/n hadn’t called because her heart was bruised, that she’d called because she’d simply wanted to spend the evening with megan.

the thought never lasted long it couldn’t because reality always found its way back.

usually in the form of a name.

“…manon would’ve hated this weather.”

the words were spoken absent-mindedly.

the way people mentioned someone without really thinking. megan’s smile faltered only for a heartbeat. she recovered before y/n looked over “yeah?”

“she always complained when her shoes got wet.” y/n laughed quietly to herself.

megan let out a small laugh in return, she could’ve asked what had happened, she could’ve asked whether they’d spoken, whether y/n thought this breakup would be any different.

she already knew the answers. instead, she tightened her arm ever so slightly around y/n’s just enough for y/n to feel it “good thing neither of us wore nice shoes then.”

y/n looked across at her and the corner of her mouth lifted “…good point.”

and just like that…the conversation drifted somewhere else because megan made sure of it.

~~~~~

the ice cream shop had been barely five minutes away. yet somehow, by the time they’d walked back to the car, almost an hour had disappeared.

y/n unlocked it with a click, the headlights blinked once against the wet pavement before fading back into the evening.

y/n didn’t start the car, she sank back into the driver’s seat instead, one leg bent slightly beneath her as she balanced the nearly empty tub of chocolate ice cream in her lap “that was good.”

megan looked over “yeah?”

“really good.” y/n scraped the last spoonful from the corner before tossing the little wooden spoon back inside “we should go there again.”

a smile tugged at the corner of megan’s mouth “i told you.”

“don’t.”

“i told you the pistachio was better.”

“it wasn’t.”

megan laughed softly, resting her head against the seat “you’re stubborn.”

they fell into an easy silence. the kind they’d never needed to fill. outside, droplets slid lazily down the windscreen, catching the glow of a nearby streetlamp before disappearing into one another.

“…manon would’ve loved the-“

“you’ve got ice cream on your face.”

before y/n could even lift a hand, megan was already moving. she leaned across the centre console, one hand catching herself lightly against the edge of the dashboard as the other reached towards y/n’s face.

“hold still.” her thumb brushed gently across the corner of y/n’s mouth, catching the tiny smear of chocolate she’d missed.

they’d done things like this before, more times than either of them could count.

wiping ketchup from the other’s cheek, fixing windswept hair before photos, picking glitter off a jumper after a birthday party.

the kind of unconscious affection that slipped into friendships after years of knowing each other and usually…megan would’ve pulled away already.

she didn’t.

her thumb remained resting lightly against y/n’s cheek. not because there was any more ice cream to wipe away, there wasn’t.

she simply…forgot.

forgot where she was, that they were sitting in y/n’s car instead of existing somewhere inside one of the countless daydreams she’d spent years trying to bury.

she’d never been this close without a reason before, enough to see the tiny flecks of gold hidden in y/n’s eyes whenever they caught the light or enough to notice the faint crease between her brows that only appeared when she was confused.

her gaze drifted for the briefest second to where her thumb rested against warm skin.

she wondered, selfishly, what it would’ve been like if she’d been allowed to do this years ago. if she’d ever been brave enough to ask, if y/n had ever looked at her the way megan had spent years looking at her.

dont.

the thought came too late because when megan looked back up…y/n was already watching her.

their eyes met and stayed. there wasn’t panic in y/n’s expression, just…confusion, soft and uncertain like she was trying to solve a puzzle she’d only just realised had been sitting in front of her all these years.

megan couldn’t look away, she knew she should. she knew she should smile, make some stupid joke, pull her hand back and pretend nothing had happened.

instead, she stayed exactly where she was.

letting herself exist in the moment for one selfish heartbeat longer. she’d spent years imagining what it might feel like to simply be close to her like this.

y/n’s lips parted slightly “…mei…”

it was barely above a whisper. megan felt her chest tighten at the sound of her name.

so quiet and familiar. for a second, it almost sounded like a question.

almost like an invitation to explain something neither of them had the words for.

megan searched y/n’s face, looking for certainty, discomfort or for anything that would tell her she’d imagined the way y/n was looking back.

instead she found something that made it even harder to leave. there was no fear,

only curiosity and beneath it something softer. something y/n herself didn’t seem to understand.

the moment stretched just long enough to become dangerous. megan let out a slow breath, almost a sigh “…there.” her voice came quieter than she’d intended.

“got it.”

only then did she let her hand fall away.

she settled back into her own seat, eyes fixed firmly on the rain gathering on the windscreen, forcing herself to put the distance back between them.

the centre console suddenly felt much wider than it had a moment ago.

outside, rain continued to patter softly against the roof of the car. inside, something had shifted. neither of them knew quite what it was but they both felt it.

~~~~~

that’s how it always happened, not every breakup looked exactly the same or not every apology sounded the same.

sometimes it was y/n standing outside manon’s apartment with coffees growing cold in her hands. sometimes it was manon sitting outside y/n’s building for nearly an hour, rehearsing what she was going to say before she finally found the courage to buzz the intercom.

sometimes they talked for hours, sometimes they barely spoke at all. one of them would cry and the other would follow not long after.

there’d be apologies they both meant and promises they both genuinely believed they could keep.

“i’ll do better.”

“i know.”

“we’ll figure it out.”

“we always do.”

and somehow…they always found each other again.

megan smiled whenever y/n quietly admitted they were back together, asked if she was happy, and swallowed every other thought before it had the chance to become words.

because what else was there to do? loving someone didn’t always mean agreeing with them.

sometimes it just meant standing beside them while they made the same choice all over again.

and for a while…it worked.

the apologies were still fresh enough to matter, the arguments still far enough away to feel like somebody else’s memories.

they were gentler with each other, more patient. every disagreement ended with one of them laughing first instead of digging their heels in.

they held each other a little tighter, lingered a little longer as though somewhere beneath all the promises, they were both quietly aware of how close they’d come to losing this.

three weeks later…it was a tuesday evening.

manon’s bedroom was washed in the soft orange glow of sunset, the curtains moving lazily with the breeze drifting through the open window.

y/n sat against the headboard with one leg stretched across the mattress, absent-mindedly scrolling through something on her phone.

manon was curled comfortably in her lap.

she’d disappeared into one of y/n’s hoodies again. it was far too big for her, the sleeves swallowing her hands until only the tips of her fingers poked through the cuffs.

manon lazily traced invisible patterns against the back of y/n’s neck with the edge of her fingernails.

just enough to send a quiet shiver across her skin. it wasn’t deliberate or maybe it was with manon, y/n could never quite tell.

“…what?” manon murmured without looking up.

“nothing.”

“you’re staring.”

“am not.”

a smile tugged at manon’s mouth “you are” she tilted her head just enough to catch y/n’s eye “what?”

y/n shrugged, one hand settling loosely around her waist “just looking.”

“why?”

“am i not allowed?”

manon’s smile softened “…i missed you.”

the words came so quietly they almost disappeared into the music.

y/n felt something tighten in her chest.

she looked down at the woman sitting comfortably in her lap, her hair slightly messy from where she’d been lying against her only moments before, drowning in a hoodie that still smelled faintly of y/n’s laundry detergent.

it was such an ordinary picture and somehow it made everything else feel very far away “…i missed you too.”

manon looked at her for a long moment the sort of look that always made y/n feel like she was the only person in the room. the corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled “see?”

“see what?”

“we’re okay.”

y/n smiled back “…yeah.”

for now…they were.

manon’s eyes flickered down to y/n’s lips for half a second. a quiet breath escaped through her nose, somewhere between amusement and disbelief, like she couldn’t quite believe she was here again.

then she moved, her fingers curled into the front of y/n’s sweater, gathering the fabric in her fists as she pulled herself closer until there was barely any space left between them.

their lips met softly and slowly.

the first kiss lingered, unhurried, like she was reacquainting herself with something she’d spent weeks trying not to miss.

she drew back only the smallest amount, her eyes searched y/n’s face. finding no hesitation only the same quiet pull she’d always had.

y/n’s hands settled instinctively at manon’s waist, fingertips bunching the oversized hoodie as she drew her back in.

that was all it took.

something shifted, the careful restraint melted away. manon kissed her again, this time with a little more certainty, a little more urgency, like every second apart had finally caught up with her.

she straightened in y/n’s lap, knees pressing into the mattress beneath either side of her as she closed the last inch between them.

one hand slipped from the front of y/n’s sweater to the back of her neck, fingers threading into the hair at her nape.

the kisses came one after another, never rushed or messy just impossible to end.

every time they parted, it was only for the briefest breath before one of them leaned in again, unable to stay apart for more than a heartbeat.

manon breathed her in like she’d forgotten what home felt like. her thumb brushed absent-mindedly beneath y/n’s jaw while her fingers remained tangled in her hair, holding her close without ever forcing it.

there was relief in the way she kissed her.

relief, apology, want. all tangled together into something neither of them had ever been particularly good at putting into words.

y/n answered every kiss just as readily, one hand sliding higher against manon’s back, holding her there as if letting go now might somehow undo the last three weeks.

when they finally broke apart, it was only by an inch, breathing uneven and foreheads touching.

manon’s eyes stayed fixed on y/n’s for a long moment, soft and searching, as though she was trying to memorise every detail she’d been afraid she’d never see again.

she didn’t let go, she simply stayed there, her fingers still buried gently in y/n’s hair, quietly savouring the impossible comfort of being close enough that she didn’t have to wonder anymore whether she’d lost her.

manon smiled against y/n’s lips before slowly pulling back just enough to look at her.

her eyes wandered over y/n’s face as though she’d spent the last three weeks trying to remember every detail and was only now realising she’d forgotten nothing at all.

her thumb brushed lightly along y/n’s cheek.

she tilted her head ever so slightly before leaning back in. this time, instead of finding her lips again, she pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of y/n’s mouth.

then another.

her lips ghosted across y/n’s cheek, slow and unhurried, smiling faintly when she felt y/n’s quiet laugh beneath her.

she followed the curve of her cheekbone.

another kiss. then the line of her jaw. each one gentle and lingering just a heartbeat longer than the last.

y/n’s eyes slipped closed, her hand remained settled comfortably at manon’s waist, absent-mindedly rubbing slow circles.

manon shifted even closer in her lap, one hand resting lightly at the back of y/n’s neck while the other steadied herself against her shoulder.

she’d missed this, being close enough to hear y/n breathe. her fingertips disappeared into the hair at the nape of y/n’s neck as she turned her head slightly, leaving another soft kiss beneath her jaw.

her nose brushed lightly against y/n’s skin as she smiled to herself. everything about this felt familiar like coming home.

the room had disappeared around them.

there was only the quiet sound of each other’s breathing and the occasional rustle of the duvet whenever one of them shifted closer.

manon lingered for another second, her lips brushing the side of y/n’s neck.

y/n’s breathing caught.

“…meg-“

the name escaped before she even knew she’d spoken it.

manon froze completely. her lips never quite reached y/n’s skin again, she stayed exactly where she was for one stunned heartbeat before slowly pulling back.

confusion crossed her face first then disbelief.

y/n’s eyes flew open then the colour drained from her face almost instantly.

shit.

shit.

shit.

shit.

she hadn’t been thinking about megan, she hadn’t meant to say it, she hadn’t even realised the word had left her mouth until she saw the look on manon’s face.

manon’s hand slipped from the back of y/n’s neck her eyes searched y/n’s desperately, waiting for her to laugh, to explain or to tell her she’d heard wrong.

when she was met by silence, manon shot backwards so quickly she almost lost her balance getting off the bed.

she caught herself on the edge of the mattress, staring at y/n as though she’d suddenly become a stranger.

“manon-“

“what did you just say?”

“i…” she sat frozen for a heartbeat before scrambling after her, nearly tangling herself in the duvet “manon, i meant manon. i said manon. you baby.”

for a split second, the room was completely still. manon simply looked at her, waiting.

almost giving her another chance to convince her she’d imagined it.

then a short laugh escaped her “…cute.”

she shook her head once, looking away as she climbed fully off the bed “really fucking cute.”

“please-“

“don’t.” manon dragged both hands through her hair, pacing towards the bedroom window before stopping abruptly.

she stood there with her back to y/n, shoulders rising and falling a little too quickly.

y/n hesitated before taking a cautious step forward“i didn’t mean it.”

manon let out another humourless laugh “no?” she spun around so suddenly y/n stopped in her tracks “because it sounded pretty fucking intentional to me.”

“it wasn’t.”

“you literally said her name.”

“i know.”

“do you?” her voice cracked through the room “do you actually know what you just did?”

y/n swallowed hard, she rubbed both hands over her face before dropping them helplessly to her sides“i don’t know why i said it.”

“bullshit.”

“it’s not.”

“bullshit!” the word echoed off the bedroom walls. manon turned away again almost immediately, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes for the briefest second before dropping them.

she was trying so hard not to cry, y/n could see it which somehow made it worse.

“i’ve spent weeks wondering if we’d be okay.” manon’s voice was quieter now. quieter, but somehow far more dangerous.

she looked back at the bed they’d been sitting on only moments earlier.

“i let myself believe we’d fixed it.” she laughed bitterly “and the first time we’re together again…” her eyes met y/n’s “…you say somebody else’s name.”

“i wasn’t thinking about megan.”

“then why did you say it?”

“…i don’t know.”

y/n took another step, slowly like approaching a frightened animal “please just listen to me.”

manon stepped backwards at exactly the same moment. the movement was small, barely noticeable but y/n noticed.

“don’t.”

“manon-“

“explain it then.” she folded her arms tightly across her chest, more to hold herself together than anything else “go on.”

y/n opened her mouth but nothing came.

“explain how you accidentally called me by another girl’s name. her name”

“there isn’t another girl.”

“isn’t there?”

“no.”

manon searched her face desperately.

as though she wanted or needed y/n to convince her she was wrong.

“you know what i’ve never understood?” she didn’t wait for an answer “every time we fight…” another bitter laugh “…every single fucking time…”

she pointed vaguely towards the bedroom door “who do you run to?”

y/n looked down at the floor.

“say it.”

“…megan.”

“right.” manon nodded once slowly “every time.”

“because she’s my best friend.”

“i know she’s your best friend.”

“then what’s the problem?”

“the problem…” manon took a step closer this time “…is that i’m not convinced she’s just your best friend.”

“she is.”

“is she?”

“yes.” the answer came quickly, too quickly.

manon noticed, she held y/n’s gaze without blinking.

“swear to me.”

“…what?”

“swear to me.” her voice barely rose above a whisper that somehow hurt more than the shouting “look me in the eyes…” she swallowed.

“…and swear you’ve never felt anything for her.”

the room disappeared. y/n’s heartbeat pounded loudly enough she could hear it.

she looked straight at manon opened her mouth and nothing came out. for the smallest fraction of a second she hesitated.

images she hadn’t invited rushed through her mind.

late-night drives.

hours spent laughing until neither of them could breathe.

megan linking her arm through hers without thinking.

the look she’d given her across the dashboard.

the way she’d always been there.

always.

manon saw it, she didn’t need words, she saw it. something inside her seemed to collapse.

“…she’s my best friend.”

manon stared at her in disbelief “that’s not what i fucking asked.”

the words exploded out of her. she took another step forward, close enough now that neither of them had to raise their voices.“answer the question.”

“manon-“

“have you?” her eyes searched y/n’s desperately “have you ever looked at her and wondered what it would’ve been like?”

“no.” too fast, too defensive.

manon let out one hollow laugh “lie to me again.”

“i’m not lying.”

“you hesitated.”

“because you blindsided me.”

“because you couldn’t answer.”

“because she’s my best friend!”

“that’s not what i fucking asked!” manon looked at her for what felt like forever before shaking her head almost imperceptibly.

when she finally spoke, her voice had lost all its anger it was just tired “…i think you’ve been lying to yourself for a very long time.”

y/n felt her stomach drop and she reached out instinctively. manon stepped back again before she could touch her.

“that’s not true.”

manon held her gaze “…isn’t it?”

“no.” the denial came almost immediately.

y/n shook her head, taking another step towards her, her hands lifting instinctively before falling uselessly back to her sides when manon didn’t move. “she’s my friend. that’s all she is.”

manon watched her for a long moment.

she wanted to believe her but she’d watched the two of them together too many times.

she’d spent too many evenings pretending not to notice the way megan’s attention seemed to orbit y/n no matter who else was in the room.

eventually, she let out a slow breath through her nose “friends don’t look at each other like that.”

y/n frowned immediately “what are you talking about?”

manon looked at her in disbelief “you genuinely don’t see it.” it wasn’t a question, it was a realisation.

she laughed quietly to herself, the sound tired more than amused, before turning away for a second. she pressed both hands against her hips, trying to gather herself, before looking back over her shoulder.

“i’ve watched her watch you.” she spoke more slowly now, carefully, as though laying out evidence she’d been collecting for months.

“she looks for you the second she walks into a room. when something funny happens, you’re the first person she looks at. when you speak, she listens like nobody else exists.”

y/n opened her mouth to interrupt but manon lifted a hand, stopping her “and before you say ‘that’s just megan’…” she shook her head “…it isn’t.”

the room fell quiet again.

y/n looked away first, she tried to think of something to say, something that would make this ridiculous, something that would prove manon had it all wrong.

instead, memories surfaced before she could stop them. megan waiting outside school because she’d known y/n had stayed behind. always remembering exactly what she’d order before she did. the way she’d somehow ended up becoming the person y/n called without thinking whenever life became too loud.

the way everything always felt easier around her.

she’d never questioned it. why would she? that was what best friends were supposed to feel like. wasn’t it?

she looked back at manon, suddenly feeling far less certain than she had thirty seconds ago.

“…i’ve never thought about her like that.”

the words came quieter this time, less defensive almost like she was trying to convince herself as much as manon.

manon caught it immediately, the certainty had gone only a crack but it was there “you hesitated.”

“because you’re putting things in my head.”

“am i?”

“yes.”

“or am i saying something you’ve been trying very hard not to think about?”

y/n’s chest tightened, she hated that question because she didn’t have an answer. she loved manon, she knew that much. there wasn’t a single part of her that doubted it. but now…there was another thought sitting quietly beside it.

one she’d never given herself permission to examine. what, exactly, had she always felt for megan? she’d never asked herself before.

best friend had always been enough of an answer. until now. for the first time in years…it didn’t feel quite as simple anymore.

manon’s shoulders dropped. more like something inside her had finally given way.

she looked away, jaw tightening as she blinked hard against the sting gathering behind her eyes. “i hate this.”

“i hate that i’m even saying it.”

y/n took another cautious step “baby…”

before she could reach her, manon closed the distance herself.

not to push her away but to pull her closer.

her arms came up around y/n’s neck, almost clinging to her, holding on with a quiet desperation that caught y/n completely off guard.

she buried her face briefly against y/n’s shoulder, breathing in shakily before pulling back just enough to look at her again.

her eyes were glassy now, red around the edges.

“tell me you love me.” the words barely made it out.

“i do.”

“no.” manon shook her head immediately “don’t just say it.” her fingers tightened where they rested behind y/n’s neck.

“look at me.”

y/n did.

“tell me you love me.”

“…i love you.”

“tell me it’s only me.” the plea was so quiet it almost broke apart before it reached y/n “please.”

y/n’s heart twisted “it is.”

manon searched her face for something she could hold onto. instead, all she found was confusion.

a tear slipped free before she could stop it.

she laughed bitterly at herself, wiping it away with the heel of her hand almost angrily “i sound fucking pathetic.”

“you don’t.”

“i do.” she looked down at the floor for a moment before meeting y/n’s eyes again.“because i know that look.”

y/n frowned “…what look?”

“the way she looks at you.” manon’s voice cracked despite how hard she tried to steady it.

“she looks at you the way i do.”

another tear escaped, she didn’t bother wiping this one away. “like you’re the first person she wants to tell everything to…l-like walking into a room doesn’t matter until she’s found you.”

“i’ve seen it.” she swallowed hard “over and over again and every single time i tell myself i’m imagining it.” she let out a shaky breath.

“but i’m not.” her eyes searched y/n’s desperately “i know what it looks like to love you.”

the words landed softly but painfully “because i do.” she shook her head “and she looks at you exactly the same way.”

y/n felt her stomach knot “manon…”

“just…” manon’s forehead rested briefly against hers. her voice dropped to almost nothing “make me believe i’m wrong.”

she closed her eyes for a second “make me believe that when you look at her…” her breath caught “…you don’t feel even a fraction of what she feels when she looks at you.”

y/n stood completely still, her arms slowly found manon’s waist, holding her instinctively.

she wanted to answer, she wanted to tell her exactly what she needed to hear but the words sat at the back of her throat refusing to come out.

~~~~~

somehow…they survived that night.

y/n didn’t know how. looking back, she wasn’t sure either of them had really won.

the argument had gone on for hours, voices that had started out raised eventually becoming hoarse, anger dissolving into tears.

tears dissolving into exhausted apologies.

by the end of it, neither of them had enough fight left to keep going.

manon had asked the same question over and over again. sometimes directly, sometimes in different words or without saying anything at all.

every answer y/n gave came back to the same place. that she loved manon and that megan was her best friend.

that there had never been anything more than that.

eventually…manon believed her or maybe she simply wanted to. sometimes there wasn’t much difference.

y/n believed herself too. she held manon that night until they’d both fallen asleep, convinced they’d finally put the conversation behind them.

convinced that all the doubt had been born from jealousy, from fear, from one stupid mistake.

life settled again, at least on the surface.

they slipped back into old routines almost frighteningly quickly. lazy mornings tangled together in bed, late-night supermarket trips because manon had decided she wanted snacks at eleven o’clock.

arguing over whose turn it was to choose a film before neither of them paid attention to it anyway. the fight became another thing they quietly agreed not to mention.

for two weeks…it almost felt normal again.

until sophia.

it started so subtly neither of them noticed it at first. manon would mention she was grabbing coffee with her, then it became lunch, then whole afternoons.

then plans y/n only found out about after they’d already happened.

little things, easy enough to brush off individually. harder to ignore when they started piling on top of each other.

“i can’t tonight.”

“sophia asked if i wanted to go shopping.”

“sorry, i completely forgot we were supposed to meet.”

“i’m already out with soph.”

every time, there was an apology, there was another promise they’d do something tomorrow instead.

tomorrow rarely came and y/n tried not to let it bother her.

she told herself she was overthinking it, that manon was allowed to spend time with her friends. she’d never wanted to become one of those girlfriends, the possessive or controlling ones.

so she smiled, said it was fine and pretended it didn’t sting when another evening together quietly became another evening apart.

until one friday. they’d had plans all week.

nothing special just dinner and a movie, an evening that belonged to the two of them.

y/n arrived outside manon’s apartment carrying takeaway in one hand and knocking with the other.

no answer. she knocked again. still nothing.

her phone buzzed.

sorry baby xx sophia asked me to come into town with her. completely forgot. rain check? ❤️

y/n stared at the message for a long time then at the cooling food in her hand then back at the screen.

when manon finally came over later that evening, laughing about something sophia had said before she realised y/n wasn’t laughing too, the argument had been almost inevitable.

“seriously?” y/n’s voice was quieter than she’d intended “we had plans.”

“i said sorry.”

“that’s the third time this week.”

“you’re exaggerating.”

“am i?”

manon folded her arms “sophia’s my best friend.”

the words hung in the air, they both heard it and both recognised it. y/n felt something cold settle in the pit of her stomach.

“…don’t.”

“what?”

“don’t do that.”

manon’s expression hardened “do what?”

for the briefest moment something flickered across manon’s face.

guilt.

because the truth was…a part of her had known exactly what she was doing. after weeks of hearing megan’s my best friend…

she’d wanted y/n to understand what it felt like.

to be the one waiting, to wonder whether she’d always come second, to hear the same words she’d repeated so many times thrown back at her.

it was never really about sophia.

sophia had simply been the easiest way to make the point.

the trouble was hurt had a habit of growing legs of its own and once it started walking it rarely stopped where you’d intended.

and somehow…that was how she’d ended up here again.

on megan’s bedroom floor.

the same place she’d found herself after more breakups than either of them had bothered counting anymore.

nothing about the room had really changed over the years.

the glow-in-the-dark stars they’d stuck to the ceiling when they were sixteen still clung stubbornly above them, though most had lost whatever made them glow years ago.

it was familiar, it was safe.

y/n lay flat on the carpet with her hands folded beneath her head, staring blankly at the ceiling.

above her, megan was lying across her stomach on the bed, chin resting on her crossed arms as she looked down at y/n over the edge of the mattress.

she didn’t ask what had happened, she already knew she’d be told if y/n wanted to tell her. if she didn’t…that was okay too.

after a long silence, she spoke.

“…a bad one?” her voice was quiet enough that it barely disturbed the stillness of the room.

y/n let out a slow breath “…yeah.”

“wanna talk about it?”

y/n shrugged without taking her eyes off the ceiling. “…it’s just…” she searched for the words “…confusing.”

megan nodded once. she didn’t ask how, didn’t ask why, she simply accepted the answer for what it was “confusing’s annoying.”

that earned the faintest smile “…is that your expert opinion?”

“absolutely.” megan reached across her bed, blindly searching until her fingers found the packet of candy sitting beside her pillow.

she held one over the edge “emotional support dinosaur?”

y/n looked over “…that’s a crocodile.”

“is it?” megan frowned at it. “…emotional support… mystery reptile? whatever it’s fucking candy”

a laugh escaped y/n before she could stop it.

megan dropped the candy it bounced once off y/n’s forehead before landing on her chest.

“close enough.” y/n laughed as she picked it up, shaking her head as she threw it into her mouth.

megan smiled to herself, there it was.

she’d been waiting for that, she’d always preferred y/n’s laugh to her gratitude.

gratitude meant she’d arrived broken but laughter meant she was beginning to piece herself back together.

y/n rolled her hoodie string thoughtfully between her fingers before speaking.

“…i wish everything was as easy as it is with you.”

the words came out so quietly megan almost thought she’d imagined them.

she looked down and y/n was still staring at the ceiling, completely unaware of what she’d just said or maybe completely unaware of what those words meant.

megan’s smile faded not because she’d stopped feeling it because suddenly smiling felt dangerous.

“…who says it can’t be?”

the question slipped out before she could catch it.

y/n turned her head and once their eyes met, the room seemed to shrink around them.

megan searched y/n’s face, immediately wishing she could take the question back not because she didn’t mean it but because she did, more than she’d ever meant anything. she’d just never intended to say it out loud.

y/n looked at her with an expression megan couldn’t quite read, it lingered there for the briefest moment before uncertainty settled over it instead.

megan felt her heartbeat thudding against her ribs so hard she wondered if y/n could somehow hear it from where she lay.

after what felt like forever, she let out the smallest laugh, rubbing the back of her neck “…forget i said that.” she smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“…i meant…” she searched for something safer “…life.”

“life can be easy.” the excuse sounded weak, they both knew it.

y/n kept looking at her for another second.

then slowly rolled back onto her back, eyes returning to the ceiling “…right.”

but neither of them truly believed that was what megan had meant. she dropped her gaze quickly, suddenly finding her chipped nail polish far more interesting than she ever had before.

her thumbnail picked absent-mindedly at one of the tiny black polka dots painted over the white base.

“…i mean…” she cleared her throat “…with the right person, obviously it’d be easier.”

the words came out in a rush, she winced almost immediately “that’s… that’s what i meant.”

a nervous laugh escaped her “relationships, i mean.” she scratched at another dot, avoiding y/n’s eyes “not…” she exhaled quietly through her nose “…forget it.”

she couldn’t help herself, her eyes lifted. y/n had pushed herself up onto her elbows, the movement slow, thoughtful.

she was looking at megan with an expression she’d never seen before.

megan’s breath caught, her eyes wandered almost instinctively, taking y/n in for the first time in what felt like forever.

the hoodie she’d thrown on earlier had ridden up slightly where she’d propped herself on her elbows, sleeves pushed untidily towards her forearms. her hair was still a mess from where she’d been lying on the floor, strands falling lazily across her forehead.

megan’s chest tightened, she’d always noticed these things, always, she’d simply become very good at pretending she hadn’t.

her gaze drifted back to y/n’s face, to the crease between her brows, to her eyes.

they hadn’t left megan once.

it made her stomach turn over. she looked back down at her hands again almost immediately, rubbing the pad of her thumb over another tiny black dot until it began to chip away.

“…sorry.” she laughed quietly “i don’t even know what i’m saying.”

y/n didn’t answer. she was still watching her.

trying to fit the sentence she’d just heard together with the girl she’d known since she was knee height.

trying to work out whether she’d imagined the way megan had said it, whether there had been something underneath it or whether manon’s voice had become so lodged inside her head that she was starting to hear things that weren’t there.

“…meg.” her voice was soft.

megan looked up again their eyes met for the second time but this one lasted longer.

y/n was still propped up on her elbows, her eyes never quite leaving megan’s face “…do you think i’d know?”

the question was so quiet megan almost missed it. she frowned “know what?”

“…if i was with the right person.”

the words hung between them. megan’s fingers stopped picking at the chipped polka dots on her nails. she looked up carefully “…do you not feel like you are?”

y/n didn’t answer, she tried to because months ago the answer would’ve come without thinking.

yes. of course she did. she loved manon.

she still loved manon. didn’t she?

except now…every time she reached for certainty, all she found was confusion. her silence said more than she wanted it to.

megan felt a tiny, impossible flicker of hope bloom somewhere deep in her chest. it frightened her almost immediately.

she looked away again, rubbing at another tiny black dot until it flaked away beneath her thumb. “i mean…”she let out an awkward little laugh. “it’s not like i’d know.”

she shrugged, trying to sound casual “i’m just… guessing.”

the words came out thinner than she’d intended, too eager to take back what she’d almost implied.

“…mei.” y/n’s voice stopped her.

she looked up instinctively. y/n had sat up now, one leg folded beneath her, the distance between the floor and the bed suddenly feeling much smaller than it had a moment ago.

she was looking at megan with an intensity that made her pulse jump.

“…what?” the word came out embarrassingly high, she cleared her throat “…what?” she could feel warmth creeping into her cheeks.

y/n held her gaze “do you know?”

megan blinked “…know what?”

“what it’s supposed to feel like.”

megan searched y/n’s face, trying to work out whether she was asking a hypothetical question…or whether she was asking her.

she swallowed “…i don’t know.” it was honest “i don’t think anyone really knows.” she smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite hide the nerves in her voice.

“i just think…” her eyes dropped for a second before finding y/n’s again “…when someone makes your life feel lighter instead of heavier…” she stopped herself “…that’s probably a good place to start.”

y/n didn’t answer, she sat there for another few seconds, turning megan’s words over and over in her head until they no longer felt like words at all.

neither of them moved until y/n did.

she pushed herself up from the floor slowly, brushing her palms against her sweatpants before taking the two short steps towards the bed.

megan’s breath caught almost immediately.

y/n lowered herself onto one knee beside the mattress, close enough now that she no longer had to look up at her.

one hand came to rest against the mattress beside megan’s shoulder, the fabric dipping slightly beneath her weight.

“do you…” she hesitated, her eyes searched megan’s face “…have you ever felt like you’ve known?”

megan forgot how to breathe, the room suddenly felt impossibly small. there wasn’t much space between them now.

she looked into y/n’s eyes, trying desperately to understand what she was really asking.

was this still about manon? or…had the conversation become something else entirely?

her heartbeat thudded even louder than before “y/n, i-“ the words never found their way out.

y/n reached up without really thinking. a loose strand of hair had fallen across megan’s face sometime during the conversation, moving every now and then with the breeze drifting through the open window.

she tucked it gently behind her ear, the touch was fleeting over almost as soon as it began but it was enough.

megan’s entire body stilled her eyes widened immediately before softening.

heat rushed into her cheeks so quickly she was grateful the room was lit only by the fading evening light.

her gaze drifted over y/n’s face instinctively.

the uncertainty in her eyes, close enough to notice that y/n looked just as nervous as she felt.

megan searched y/n’s expression for an answer she wasn’t brave enough to ask for.

instead, she found the same confusion she’d been carrying herself.

the same questions, the same fear.

“…i thought i did once.” her voice was barely above a whisper “and then…” she let out the smallest breath “…i wasn’t sure whether i knew because it was right…”

her eyes never left y/n’s “…or because i wanted it to be.”

the words settled quietly between them.

y/n didn’t move. if anything, she seemed to lean into them, studying megan as though she might somehow find the answer written somewhere behind her eyes.

y/n’s hand remained against the mattress.

she didn’t seem to notice how close she’d moved or maybe she did maybe she’d stopped caring.

her eyes searched megan’s face for another few seconds before the question finally escaped “…do you think i’m with the right person?”

megan stared at her, the words landed so unexpectedly she almost laughed. instead, something inside her tightened. of all the questions she’d prepared herself for…

that wasn’t one of them.

“…what?”

y/n held her gaze “do you?”

for a second, megan couldn’t find her voice.

she looked at y/n, kneeling beside her bed, asking her, a girl who’d spent years quietly trying to stop loving her, whether she thought another relationship was right.

something sharp twisted in her chest “that’s…” she let out a disbelieving breath. “that’s what you’re asking me?”

y/n frowned immediately “that’s not what i meant, i-“

“then what did you mean?”

“i’m just…” y/n faltered, she hadn’t actually thought that far ahead. she only knew the question had been sitting in her chest for days. she hadn’t expected saying it out loud to sound so…cruel.

she slowly withdrew her hand from the mattress, sitting back slightly on her heel “…sorry.” the word came quietly “i didn’t mean it like that.”

megan looked away, her jaw tightened.

she rubbed her palms together before folding her arms loosely across her stomach, more to give herself something to do than anything else “like what?”

“i don’t know.” y/n let out a frustrated breath “everything’s so…” she gestured vaguely in the air between them “…mixed up.”

“yeah.” megan laughed once, short “tell me about it.”

another silence settled but this one wasn’t comfortable.

y/n watched megan carefully, she’d never seen her like this before. there was a restless energy beneath her skin, like she was trying very hard to keep something contained “…mei.”

megan closed her eyes briefly and when she opened them again, something had changed. she looked tired, of choosing her words, of pretending she didn’t know exactly where this conversation was going.

“do you want to find out?”

y/n blinked “…find out what?”

megan sat up properly now, swinging her legs over the side of the bed until they almost brushed y/n’s shoulder. she could feel herself unraveling, every conversation she’d swallowed, every feeling she’d buried, every time she’d smiled and told herself to be happy with whatever pieces of y/n she was allowed.

they were all pressing against the back of her ribs now.

“the answer.” she looked directly at y/n “to whether i think you’re with the right person.”

her voice shook despite her best efforts “or whether you’ll know.” a bitter laugh escaped her “or whatever weird fucking cryptic question you’re going to ask me next.”

she searched y/n’s face “because i can’t keep trying to work out what you’re actually mean every time you ask me something.”

y/n opened her mouth but megan leaned forward slightly, hands resting on her knees “you’re asking me questions you already know i’m never going to answer honestly.”

y/n’s heart lurched “…what does that mean?”

megan held her gaze. for a moment, it looked like she might finally say it.

everything she’d spent years refusing to instead…she just looked away.

because if she answered honestly…she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to take it back.

she let out a slow breath through her nose, pressing both palms against her knees before standing abruptly.

she crossed the room without really knowing why, two steps to the window another towards the desk then back again. she’d always paced when she was trying not to say something she’d regret.

y/n watched her quietly “…mega-“

“no.” megan laughed under her breath not because anything was funny but because if she didn’t laugh, she wasn’t entirely convinced she’d keep her composure.

“you can’t…” she rubbed a hand over her face, searching for words that didn’t exist “…you can’t ask me questions like that.”

“i wasn’t trying to-“

“i know.” she looked up at the ceiling for a second before shaking her head “that’s the problem.”

she turned back to y/n “i know you weren’t.”

there wasn’t any anger in her voice now just frustration, the kind that had been building for years “you come here every time something falls apart.”

she gestured vaguely towards the floor where y/n had been lying only minutes earlier.

“you lie on my floor” a tiny smile almost appeared “you complain about manon, you tell me everything or nothing” she swallowed “and then you go back.”

y/n looked down.

“and i let you.” she laughed quietly to herself “every single time.” she folded her arms, then unfolded them again almost immediately like she couldn’t seem to settle.

“because that’s what i’m supposed to do, right?” she looked at y/n “i’m your best friend.”

the words caught slightly in her throat “i’m supposed to listen, to tell you it’ll be okay, to pick you back up.” she shook her head “and i don’t even mind.”

that was the worst part, she really didn’t “i’d do it again tomorrow.” another humourless laugh escaped her “i probably will.”

megan’s eyes drifted to the window before finding y/n again “but then…” she hesitated “…you ask me whether you’re with the right person.”

she looked genuinely bewildered “what am i supposed to say to that?”

y/n opened her mouth and nothing came out. megan’s frustration bubbled over again, not explosive, just tired.

“do you want me to tell you to stay with her?”

“do you want me to tell you to leave?”

“do you want me to tell you you’ll just… know?” she shook her head “because none of those answers matter if you’ve already made your mind up.”

“i haven’t.”

“haven’t you?”

y/n looked at her helplessly “…i don’t know.”

megan closed her eyes for the briefest second. there it was again, those three words.

I don’t know.

they’d become the answer to everything.

when she opened her eyes again, they looked softer and sadder “that’s what scares me.”

she immediately bit the inside of her cheek.

too much, she’d already said too much. she looked away “…forget it.”

“hey…”

“no.” her voice was quiet now almost pleading “if i keep talking…” she let out a slow breath “…i’m going to say something i can’t take back.”

y/n’s heartbeat quickened. she didn’t know exactly what megan had almost said but somehow she felt like she’d known all along.

y/n pushed her hand against the floor, starting to stand.

“no.” the word came out immediately, sharper than either of them expected.

megan took a step back, one hand lifting instinctively between them “don’t.”

y/n froze halfway up “…meg.”

“don’t come near me right now.” her voice wasn’t loud it trembled around the edges, held together only by sheer determination “please.”

y/n stared at her for a second before the strength seemed to leave her legs altogether. she slowly lowered herself back down, her shoulder finding the end of megan’s bed. she rested her head against the mattress, knees pulled loosely towards her chest.

“…okay.”

megan stood with her back half-turned, arms folded tightly across herself as though trying to hold something together that had started coming apart.

she took a slow breath then another neither one seemed to help “…do you love her?” the question barely rose above a whisper.

y/n looked up immediately “of course i do.”

megan nodded once almost absent-mindedly “okay” she kept looking at the floor “…then why are you here asking me all of this?”

y/n searched desperately for an answer that made sense but nothing came.

“if you love her…” megan rubbed tiredly at her forehead “…why are you asking me what the right person is supposed to feel like?”

y/n swallowed hard “…i don’t know.”

“why?”

“…i don’t know.”

“why do you keep saying that?” the frustration crept back into megan’s voice “every answer is ‘i don’t know.’”

she finally looked at y/n again, her eyes were tired “why do you and manon keep ending up here?” she gestured vaguely between the bedroom around them “why does it always end the same way?”

“because we argue.”

“everyone argues.”

“it’s more complicated than that.”

“is it?” megan shook her head slowly “or do you just keep pretending the same problem is a different one every time?”

y/n looked away, the carpet suddenly seemed fascinating “i love her.” she said it again quieter this time less like she was telling megan and more like she was reminding herself.

megan heard the difference immediately “i know you do.” the words were gentle “i’ve never doubted that.”

she took another slow breath “but loving someone and being right for each other…”

her voice trailed off, she couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence.

y/n felt something heavy settle in her ches “…i don’t want to lose her.”

megan closed her eyes. of course she didn’t, that wasn’t surprising. what hurt was that y/n sounded terrified of losing manon…

and completely unaware of what she was slowly doing to herself or to the girl standing a few feet away.

megan leaned back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling for a moment before speaking again “…when was the last time you were happy?”

the question caught y/n off guard “what?”

“properly happy.” she looked back at her “not relieved because you weren’t arguing or not happy because you’d made up.”

“just…” she searched for the right word happy.”

y/n frowned, she started thinking.

their first holiday together, christmas.

a lazy sunday in bed then another memory interrupted it.

laughing in the car with megan.

ice cream.

hours on discord.

sitting on this bedroom floor.

she stopped herself immediately as guilt washed over her. megan watched the conflict play across her face without a single word being spoken.

she hated that she’d noticed it because once she’d seen it she couldn’t unsee it.

“…that’s what i thought.” her voice was barely audible.

because neither of them knew anymore whether y/n was struggling to answer or whether she was afraid of the answer she’d already found.

megan looked everywhere except at y/n and when she finally spoke, her voice was almost frighteningly steady.

“…i think you should go home.”

y/n blinked “…what?”

megan swallowed still not looking at her “i think…” she let out a slow breath “…i think you should leave.”

for a second, y/n actually just laughed because it was so ridiculous her brain refused to accept she’d heard it properly.

“…yeah.” she pushed herself up from the floor, brushing imaginary dust from the front of her hoodie “okay.”

she smiled awkwardly “very funny.”

but megan didn’t smile back and y/n’s own smile faded almost immediately. “…meg?”

megan finally met her eyes, there wasn’t any anger left just something tired and something quietly heartbroken.

“i’m serious.” the words landed like a punch.

y/n just stared at her, years of walking into this room without knocking, years of stealing hoodies, eating food out of megan’s cupboard, falling asleep halfway through films, showing up after every fight she’d ever had.

not once…had megan ever asked her to leave.

“…you want me to go?” the question came out much smaller than she’d intended.

megan’s jaw tightened, she hated how hurt y/n sounded and she hated that she was the reason “yeah.”

y/n searched her face, waiting for the smile.

the i’m kidding but it never came.

she shifted awkwardly where she stood “…did i do something?”

megan closed her eyes briefly “please don’t make me answer that.”

y/n felt her chest tighten “meg…”

“it’s late.” the excuse sounded thin even to her own ears. she glanced towards the dark window “you should probably get some sleep.”

“don’t.” y/n shook her head “don’t do that.”

“do what?”

“don’t pretend it’s because it’s late.” her voice cracked slightly “just tell me what’s wrong.”

megan looked at her for a long moment.

she wanted to. she wanted to tell her everything she’d spent years swallowing.

wanted to ask why she’d always been enough to pick y/n back up but never enough to be chosen.

wanted to ask why she was expected to have all the answers while pretending she didn’t care what they were.

instead, she simply shook her head “i can’t.”

“why?”

because if i keep talking…i’ll stop protecting both of us.

the thought stayed exactly where it belonged inside her own head. she looked back at y/n, her expression softening despite herself “…because i don’t think i’m the person you should be asking these questions anymore.”

the words seemed to knock the air out of y/n’s lungs “what does that mean?”

megan smiled, the kind of smile people wore when they were trying very hard not to cry “…i don’t know.” she glanced towards the bedroom door before looking back at y/n one last time “i just…” her voice faltered.

“…i think you should go home.”

this time…y/n didn’t argue. she nodded once then she reached for her car keys on the desk beside the door.

the familiar jingle filled the room.

normally, megan would’ve walked her downstairs. she’d have stood in the doorway until y/n drove away. normally, she’d have shouted text me when you get home.

tonight…she stayed exactly where she was.

y/n paused with her hand on the bedroom door. she looked back, megan was still standing in the same spot still looking at her.

neither of them spoke then y/n quietly opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.

the bedroom door clicked shut behind her, the sound echoed through the house. only then did megan let herself sink slowly onto the edge of her bed, pressing both hands over her face.

for the first time since she’d met y/n…she hadn’t asked her to stay.