Worsties Forever

It’s the sudden loss of the warmth against her side that makes Poppy stir awake.

Still a little dazed, she turns around and realizes she’s not in her bed.

Right, she’s still at the bed and breakfast. Bee slept next to her that night. She actually… liked it.

It’s a lot to take in. Poppy doesn’t really want to think about it as much as she wants to just sleep it all away. Unfortunately, they have to be on the road again in less than an hour, so that won’t be possible. Dammit, Bee.

She opens her eyes to find Bee hovering over her. She starts a little when Poppy looks at her, before breaking into an uncertain smile. "Oh, uhm. Hi. Good morning."

It’s the first time they wake up next to each other, Poppy realizes. Maybe that’s why Bee’s making such strange faces. "Hey."

"Hey," she whispers back.

"What time is it?"

"7 am. Were you able to get any sleep?" Bee asks, a little unsure.

"Not really," Poppy mumbles. Bee’s face immediately falls, making her feel a little guilty. "It’s okay. I always have trouble sleeping."

"Oh," Bee whispers.

"You…" she pauses. "You were a lot of help, though. Thanks."

Bee looks a little nervous about it, but she reaches over to tentatively take Poppy’s hand. Poppy lets her, which seems to surprise her. Bee gives her a gentle squeeze.

"It’s okay. You’ll get to sleep in the car."

"Only if I don’t have to listen to your crappy music," she bites, but in an almost friendly way. "Ska and country music? Really, Hughes? How old are you, 52?"

"No, Poppy," she rolls her eyes, smiling. "I’m from the midwest. And my friend is 52, so…"

"Your friend?" Poppy looks at her, frowning, still laying on the bed. "Who’s your 52 year old friend?"

"My aunt! We used to spend a lot of timers together when I was little. She was practically my best friend, and a lot of her music taste stuck with me," Bee smiles again.

Poppy gives her a pitying look. "Oh, little Bee, that is the saddest sentence I’ve ever heard."

It’s Bee who grabs a pillow and whacks her this time. "Shut up, Satan. At least I had friends."

Bee’s face immediately falls when she realizes what she’s said (despite it being true), but Poppy doesn’t mind. She’s learning to take Bee’s words from what they are now: no longer an insult.

Maybe she was right. Maybe they’re starting to become friends.

She ignores how light-headed that realization makes her feel.

"Your aunt?" Poppy snorts, hitting her back with another pillow. "That does not count!"

Bee immediately breaks into another sunshine smile. Shit.

"You only say that because you’re jealous!" she throws another pillow and misses.

Poppy whacks her again.

"Trust me, Hughes, I am not jealous of your weird little childhood!"

They both start laughing at the same time. What the hell are they arguing about, anyways? Maybe Bee was right about this too. They can’t be trusted around pillows.

"Come on, get dressed. We should get breakfast and leave this place soon," Bee tells her, offering a hand to help her stand up. Poppy takes it.

"Oh, thank god," she groans. "I don’t think I could stand spending another hour in this hovel."

"Uhm, rude much?" Bee frowns, scrunching up her nose in a way that almost makes Poppy think it’s cute.

"Oh, please, Hughes. Don’t act like you love crappy motels like this one," she rolls her eyes. "Not after experiencing two years of living in the upper east side."

Bee purses her lips… but eventually breaks into a smile. "Don’t act like you know anything about me, Pops."

Poppy glares daggers at her, even as she feels her cheeks heat up slightly. "I don’t! Well— Maybe… sometimes. Depends. Ugh."

"Whatever you say…" Bee giggles brightly, waving over her shoulder as she turns her back on her. "I think you like me!"

"Shut up," she growls, shoving Bee lightly. "Stop acting like a human headache."

"Sure, sure." Bee just shrugs her shoulders and grins. Insufferably.

Poppy her with a pillow.

Again.

Thirty minutes later (and already off schedule, to Bee’s dismay) they’re having breakfast together downstairs. They’re serving pancakes, coffee and orange juice. Not what she’s used to, but then again, this entire trip isn’t exactly what she’s used to either. You should try new things, Veronica told her once. Poppy wonders if she ever had something like this in mind when she said that.

Bee is looking at her nervously, opening and closing her mouth over and over again like a weird looking fish.

Poppy looks at her suspiciously, swallowing a bite of pancake and taking a sip of coffee. 

"Uhm…" Bee starts, but immediately trails off.

"What?" Poppy remarks. "If you have something to say, say it. I won’t bite your head off."

It’s kind of a mean thing to say, considering how she’s snapped at Bee in the past. Poppy feels a little twinge when Bee flinches before nodding, but she can’t take it back now. It occurs to her a little too late that she could just apologize, but… Bee’s already talking by the time she realizes it.

"It’s just… it’s a little weird, isn’t it?" Bee says. "Waking up in the same room, having breakfast together, not actively trying to bring each other down… it’s… nice, I guess."

Poppy smiles. It’s a genuine smile, and it catches her off guard too. "…Yeah. I guess it is kind of nice."

And she means it. She knows that this is more than just ‘kind of nice.’ She knows that at some point, they should put it into words and define where they stand. But Bee doesn’t push it, and Poppy doesn’t add anything else.

It makes her think that maybe this is how they navigate around each other. Maybe they have their own little language where words aren’t required but meaning is still conveyed.

I guess spending two entire years studying every aspect of each other’s personality has its results.

They eat the rest of their breakfast as they chat casually, all soft laughs and careful grins, about nothing important in particular. And yet it’s the most sincere things between them have felt in two years.

"By the way, I’m in charge of the music today," Poppy says with a firm tone. "I don’t want to listen to any more of your early 80s music."

"It’s throwback!" Bee grumbles.

"You weren’t even born in the 80s!"

"It can still be throwback, Poppy."

"It’s a cry for help, Hughes."

"Ugh, whatever," Bee frowns, not serious at all. "You’re so mean."

"Yeah, it’s kind of my whole thing."

------------------

"SWEET CAROLINE," Bee yells loudly, pointing at Poppy to finish the phrase, expectation clear in her eyes. 

Poppy glares at her, regretfully mumbling under her breath, “Bum bum bum.” 

Whining, the other girl pouts at her. 

"Lame!"

"Can we change the song?" Poppy grumbles, and Bee shakes her head. 

"This is a staple on the road!"

Poppy goes to switch off the speaker. "Shut up. I said I was in charge of the music today, which you completely ignored. So, no more music."

"No!" Bee argues. "Please? I love this song. Can you turn it back to the beginning? Then you can pick the next song!"

Poppy has the beginning of an argument on the tip of her tongue, but then Bee looks at her again pleadingly and she relents, flipping the song back to the beginning and trying not to think about how much she wants to kiss Bee and make her really shut up. 

(Poppy tells herself that she’s being stupid. She feels like she’s falling into nothingness but also into something perfect, and she’s never felt like this before. But it’s absolutely against the rules to fall for Bee. They’re enemies. Or they used to be enemies. She doesn’t know what they are anymore. She can tolerate Bee, maybe even like her. But she can’t fall for Bee. She tells herself the words over and over.)

It feels like drowning and flying at the same time, like slipping in and out of a dream every second that it lasts. 

(God. What the hell is she doing?)

------------------

"You’re not actually considering applying to McDermots, right?" Bee asks her, a smile on her face as she turns down the car window.

They’ve been driving for around two hours now, talking to each other in an almost friendly way. Poppy can’t believe how much she’s opened up to Bee in such a short time, but the most surprising thing is how much she doesn’t mind it. It’s somehow… easy, talking to her.

She realizes she actually wants to talk to her.

"I mean, I don’t know," Poppy sighs. Everything is changing in her life and she doesn’t really know how to feel about it, "maybe it’s what I need. Funny, if you had told me six months ago we’d be having this conversation, I would’ve thought you were concussed or something."

"Pops, I’m the one who thinks you’re concussed right now."

"Oh my god, Bee. I’m joking!" she groans. "I can’t believe you’d think I was being serious."

"Huh. I kinda thought you were incapable of joking!" Bee smiles.

"I literally can’t stand you."

"And yet, you’re here with me. I wonder what does that says about you?"

"I think you might be right," Poppy grumbles, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I may have a concussion."

"Are you sure it has nothing to do with the fact that—" she trails off, looking at somewhere ahead in the road. "Look! There’s a carnival!"

Poppy looks to where Bee is pointing and, sure enough, she can see the huge ferris wheel in the distance and all of the other attractions coming into view not too long after.

"Mhmm," she replies. What else does Bee want her to say? Unless she’s planning to… "Don’t even think about it."

"Come on! Please?" she begs, realizing that Poppy has seen through her almost immediately. "It looks like it’s so much fun!"

"Weren’t you the one who berated me for being 10 minutes off schedule?" Poppy retorts.

"But…"

"I said no."

"Please?"

Bee looks like wounded puppy. It’s not going to work. Not this time. "Ugh, fine. It’s no use arguing with you, anyways."

Fuck. She forgot she has a soft spot for puppies.

Damn Bee and damn her stupid, bright smile and the way it makes her feel.

------------------

When they arrive, the first thing Bee does is buy herself some cotton candy. Poppy follows and pays for a wristband each, allowing them both unlimited access on all the rides and stalls.

"Hey, let me give you the money for those—" Bee starts, but Poppy silences her.

"Hush. You’ve been paying for everything so far," Poppy rolls her eyes. It’s starting to become a habit, "believe it or not, I’m not completely broke, Hughes."

Is she being… nice, right now? To Bee Hughes, of all people? It surprises her too how quickly she wanted to do this for her.

"But—"

"No."

Bee finally gives in (it’s not like she can argue back when Poppy uses that voice) and simply takes her hand, guiding her. They dot around from stall to stall, pausing often just to look around. Poppy thinks that Bee looks more carefree than she’s ever seen her. She hasn’t stopped smiling since they got here.

"What should we do first?" Bee asks her, looking at her like an excited child. "Oh, I know! We should play some games!"

Poppy smiles despite herself. "How old are you, answering your own questions before even pretending to wait for mine?"

"Hush! Let’s have fun! I want to win the biggest teddy bear in there!" she laughs, dragging her to the balloon and dart game.

"Remind me why should I go first when you were the one who wanted to come here in the first place…?" Poppy sighs once they’re there.

Bee just laughs again and gives her a little shove, handing her a dart. She knows Poppy is a terrible shot, though. She can’t even get a paper ball into the trash can. God, this is why she didn't make the basketball team in seventh grade. Not like anyone else in Belvoire knew, of course.

But she tries anyways, and hits zero balloons. "This game is rigged," it’s all she says before frowning and looking away in embarrassment.

"Oh my god, you really are fucking terrible!" Bee says with a chuckle, causing a bunch of nearby moms to look at her with a frown. She just shrugs and gives them an apologetic smile. "Here, let me try."

She takes the darts and hits all the balloons on her first try, winning the giant teddy bear that is roughly the same size as Poppy.

"For you," she says, a little sheepishly and hands her the stuffed animal.

"Oh, uhm. Thanks," Poppy replies, awkwardly.

She takes the bear and tries to take a step forward, but nearly topples over. The other girl starts laughing and reaches for the teddy bear again. Poppy looks at her with a frown.

"Yeah, that might be a little too big for you," she grins. "Let me carry it for you?"

"Whatever," she looks away. "What do you want to do next?"

An hour later, they did the ring toss, and the duck fishing and the guess how many jellybeans are in this bowl and so many other games. And Poppy lost them all. And by the end if it, Bee was carrying five more stuffed animals and a jar of jellybeans. "I think we should take these to the car or something."

Poppy smirks and looks over at Bee, who seems as if she’s about to collapse under the weight of everything she’s carrying. "Well, maybe you shouldn’t have tried to win every single prize."

"Ah, Pops, you know me," she winks at her. "I can’t resist the challenge of a good competition."

Soon enough, Bee runs to the parking lot and stores all the prizes she’s won in her car. When she comes back, she finds Poppy holding two giant hot dogs and offering one to her.

"Here," Poppy mumbles. "Figured we should have something to eat. Call it an early dinner, or whatever."

"Right," Bee smiles, genuinely happy. "Thank you."

They eat quietly, walking together and looking at the people around them. Bee smiles during the whole time, and it isn’t long before Poppy finds herself smiling too. She’s never done anything like this before. No, her parents were always too busy to do fun family activities like carnivals or amusement parks.

Tacky, it’s what they would call them.

They were wrong, Poppy thinks. This is actually a lot of fun.

And, as she looks at the girl walking next to her, Poppy wonders what else her parents were wrong about.

------------------

If Poppy could go back in time and do one thing differently, she would probably go back in time about three hours and whack Bee in the face with a pillow (she always finds one when she needs it.)

Why?

Because Bee is the reason why she is now standing in line, shaking in her (very uncomfortable, not suited at all for carnivals) stilettos, as she stares up at the Ferris Wheel in front of her. Or well… in front of her and Bee, who seems to be completely calm in the face of what Poppy considers to be the worst man-made contraption in the history of the world.

"Next up!" The Ferris Wheel worker calls, beckoning the duo to their seat… a flimsy plastic basket that’s painted an atrocious shade of yellow that seems seconds away from collapsing under its own weight.

"Uh… I guess this is really happening," Poppy stammers for what feels like the first time in her life. She gestures towards the swinging deathtrap in front of them, "This’ll be—" her voice cracks. How humiliating. She quickly tries to continue on, "…something."

Bee turns to look at her, preventing her from taking another step forward by placing a hand on her shoulder. "Poppy, are you scared of heights?"

"No!" she squeals and pulls them towards the seat before setting herself down gingerly on the chair. "Not at all."

Bee giggles to herself as she takes in the way Poppy clutches the bar that is now being lowered in front of them. "Are you sure about that?"

"Yes, Hughes! Stop asking so many questions!" she yells as the Ferris Wheel attendant goes back to the control panel of the massive machine.

"Okay, okay…" Bee smiles, closing her eyes when she feels herself being lifted into the air.

Poppy swallows the nerves as best she can, looking anywhere but below her — where all the people quickly shrink into tiny specks that are now barely visible. Everything is going well, all things considered, as long as Poppy keeps her eyes on the sky above and her hands clamped to the safety bar in front of them.

Time seems to move at a snail’s pace for her, it feels like it has been hours already, but as she glances over to Bee, then to the ground below, she realizes they are barely even a quarter of the way to the top. God, this is going to be a nightmare.

"You alright?" Bee asks her, now mildly concerned voice breaking the tense silence, "you’re looking a bit pale."

Poppy shakes her head, then promptly begins to nod, not sure what she is trying to get across aside from the fact she is terrified but also that she is probably maybe kinda totally not totally fine because she doesn’t want to embarrass herself in front of her former nemesis.

"I said I’m good, Hughes," she grits her teeth. "Now stop asking me."

Bee raises an eyebrow but doesn’t argue with her any further.

Poppy is already fixing her gaze back on the sky, ready to just spend the next forever trying to study the constellations between the frantic swaying of the chair beneath them, though she finds herself suddenly distracted by a foreign warmth against her right hand.

"Huh?"

She looks down, realizing Bee’s hand has somehow moved from where it had sat by her side to now rest against Poppy’s.

"Do you want me to hold your hand?" Bee asks her, looking between Poppy and their hands with something that almost looks like shyness.

Poppy feels her heart stop for a moment — then immediately looks away, frowning. Her cheeks are a little red, but she’ll blame the cold. "Do whatever you want."

She feels Bee grasp her hand, interlacing their fingers in a way that seems almost too intimate.

The Ferris Wheel continues its agonizingly slow rotation, the high-pitched symphony of carnival sounds fading to a distant hum with each passing second.

Now the main sound Poppy can hear is the sound of her own heart, which has not stopped its fast paced beating ever since Bee took her hand.

"You know you can just admit you’re scared," Bee giggles, a small smile lighting up her face, "I thought we were starting to be more honest with each other."

"Can you shut up for just five seconds?" Poppy grunts, her face heating up a little bit.

"Not really. I think I’m incapable of shutting up," Bee laughs. Poppy wants to punch her, but she is too scared to move.

"You’re the most insufferable person I’ve ever met."

"I think it’s the millionth time you say that to me, Pops."

"Well, I mean it," she whispers, closing her eyes.

Bee gently tugs on their interlocked hands. "You can scoot closer to me if that helps. You really look like you’re gonna pass out, Poptart."

Poppy wants to protest, though another quick glance downwards leaves her feeling a little too lightheaded for comfort. So she simply swallows her pride and nods, pursing her lips into somewhat of a pout before she shimmies a few inches closer to the other girl.

The Ferris Wheel keeps ascending, inch by inch, foot by foot, until they finally reach its peak. It’s probably a beautiful view, the carnival stretching out in all directions around them, though Poppy isn’t looking — too focused on keeping her eyes locked on the area just beside Bee’s head. She doesn’t want to be too blatant in her staring, though as Bee shoots her a wink, she realizes her attempts at being subtle are failing.

"You really should look around instead of just eyeballing me," Bee teases, "I mean, I know I’m gorgeous, but the view is pretty okay too."

She opens one eye and slowly looks around. Bee is right, the view is pretty okay. The world down below them, the people scattered like ants, the rides like miniature models and speckles of lights glittering all around. All over. It’s more than just “pretty okay.”

"Not so bad, huh?" Bee asks with a playfully mocking tone, making Poppy narrow her eyes. But Bee smiles, genuine and endearing.

Poppy’s heart twists sharply. "It’s not entirely awful."

Looking out at the twinkling stars that are starting to show in the sky, Bee sighs wistfully. "I had a lot of fun today."

Invisible, strong strings pull on Poppy as her face gets closer to Bee’s. "You’re so easy to please."

Blushing, a wide smile ticks up her cheeks. "I guess I am."

Something inside Poppy softens. The atmosphere turns light and easy going, and she realizes she isn’t as scared anymore. She still hasn’t let go of Bee’s hand.

She looks at the girl next to her, slightly in awe. Her curly hair is swaying with the wind, and her face has relaxed into the most content smile Poppy’s ever seen.

A loud bang interrupts Poppy’s observations. "Huh?"

"It’s starting!" Bee giggles, completely enchanted. "The fireworks!"

Poppy spares the rainbow-like bursts a brief side-eye, before returning her attention to Bee. Her eyes are glowing, swallowing up red, purple, and blue in an evergreen expanse. Her hand still holds Poppy’s; and she squeezes it slightly. Poppy feels the inexplicable urge to touch her.

Slowly, tentatively, almost regretfully, she brings her free hand to Bee’s face and turns her towards her. She watches the other girl smiles in surprise, and Poppy brushes some curls away from her eyes.

And then Bee —rags-to-riches, barn-house-charity-case, hero-of-the-people, Bee— goes ahead and brings her lips closer to hers. Poppy finds herself amazed, rather than pissed. The night is just one surprise after another.

And a second later, just like in the most cliché romcom to ever exist, they are kissing. Kissing at the top of a Ferris Wheel. With literal fireworks in the background. She can practically hear her old self’s fake gagging at how sappy it all is.

The kiss tastes like the fireworks. Like Bee’s cherry chapstick and icy cream-mint breath. Flaring, fizzing. Gentle yet hot. Spicy yet cold. The mix of sensation accompanies a high whistle and another loud boom, the sparks dancing behind Poppy’s eyelids. 

They part, and golden brown eyes lock into her gaze, and Poppy feels lightheaded for a completely different reason than just a fear of heights.

"Not so bad, huh?" Bee asks her again.

"It’s not entirely awful," Poppy repeats, breaking into a small smile.

------------------

It’s around 11 pm when they get to where they’ll be spending the night —another bed and breakfast just up the road— and they’ve been purposefully avoiding talking about the kiss ever since they left the carnival. Bee has been talking the entire time, trying to avoid as many awkward silences as possible.

She is in the middle of telling a story about an unfortunate encounter with an angry hog when they get to the room and realize there’s a small problem.

There’s only one bed.

Of course, Poppy should’ve seen it coming. She whips around to look at Bee with suspicion.

"I swear I didn’t do it!" Bee quickly yells, a little panicked. "Hold on, let me go check downstairs. I’ll tell management there’s been a mistake."

Fifteen minutes later, Bee comes back to the room looking dejected. Poppy already knows where this is going. "They said they didn’t have any other free rooms… you can go ask them yourself, if you don’t believe me."

"No, it’s—" she sighs. "Whatever. It’s late, we should get ready for bed."

"Okay, I can take the couch if—"

"Don’t be stupid," Poppy interrupts her. "I’ll go take a quick shower."

Bee watches as Poppy disappears into the bathroom, holding clothes and toiletries to get ready for bed. 

Once they’re both changed into their pajamas and settled on the bed, Bee yawns and looks at her phone. Poppy tries not to think about how they slept next to each other the night before.

The teddy bear is resting on the couch, along with all the other prizes Bee won in the carnival games. Just looking at it makes Poppy blush involuntarily. How annoying. What is she even supposed to do with a giant stuffed animal?

"We’re really behind schedule," Bee laments, interrupting her thoughts. "We might even have to drive for an extra day!"

Poppy lets out a sigh as she shifts around a little, trying to find an agreeable position. "And whose fault is that?"

"Ow, come on!" Bee’s eyes look at her in the semi-darkness. "You had fun too, admit it!"

"Quiet, Hughes. You’ve been talking my ear off for the past two days," she turns her back to her, staring at the wall instead.

"Mhmm. Still in denial?" Bee asks, amused. Poppy can’t see her face, but she knows Bee must be smiling right now.

How annoying.

"Shut up and put that phone away. You were just complaining about being behind schedule, so unless you want to waste anymore time, I’d suggest you shut your homely little mouth and sleep," she says, cold and demanding.

"You seemed to like my mouth well enough just a few hours ago—"

"Hughes!" she warns her. Bee shuts up, but Poppy can still hear her giggling.

"Goodnight, Poppy."

------------------

Two hours later, Poppy is tossing uncomfortably on her side of the bed. She barely suppresses a frustrated groan before quietly grabbing her phone and checking the time.

1:30 am.

She’s not getting any sleep that night. She can feel Bee struggling, too. It feels too intimate, too revealing, to sleep alongside each other like this. She notices all the little things she didn’t notice the night before: Bee’s irregular breathing cycle, the sound of her body shifting against the bed covers, the smell of Bee’s shampoo, only inches away from her face.

"Ugh…" she sighs, and looks at the girl laying next to her.

Bee’s back is turned, and Poppy watches her breathe for a few seconds before raking a hand through her own hair in frustration.

Poppy unconsciously brings her fingers to her lips and thinks about the kiss they shared that day. Lately, everything they’ve been doing feels so much more… intimate. It’s somewhat nice, but it’s also a little terrifying. Poppy has never experienced anything like this before. She’s used to being in control of the situation, but every time she’s with Bee, she feels herself losing power. The worst part is that she doesn’t completely hate it.

"Can’t sleep?" Bee’s soft voice brings her back to reality.

"Not really. You?" she asks, even though she already knows the answer.

"Nope. It’s weird, considering how incredibly exhausted I am," she laughs quietly. Poppy smiles next to her. "I have an idea, if you’re up to it."

Poppy raises an eyebrow, her hand reaching for the lamp on the nightstand. "What kind of idea?"

"You’ll see. I’d suggest you grab a hoodie, though."

Poppy frowns. "I don’t have any."

"Then borrow one of mine."

Fifteen minutes later, Poppy finds herself laying on a blanket outside in the middle of the night. The night air is quiet, and for a while Poppy lays still, listening to the sound of Bee’s breathing.

Bee insisted that they both apply enough bug spray, and despite the smell bothering her and the hoodie being two sizes too big for her, Poppy is actually feeling at ease.

It’s dark, and the flashlight that Bee is holding barely illuminated the path in front of them. They managed to get there in one piece after a ten minute walk, though. She can still make out the bed and breakfast in the distance, lit by some dim road lights.

"So your genius idea was to come outside and… lay on the grass?" she asks in mock irritation.

"You’re impossible," Bee laughs. "But yeah, this was basically my genius idea."

Little flickers of touch run between them. Knees, arms, fingers. In moments like these, it’s scary how easy Poppy finds picturing this being her new reality.

"I mean, unless you’re trying to get Lyme disease, I don’t really see the purpose in this."

Bee rolls her eyes and turns off her flashlight, letting the darkness surround them. "Just look at the sky, you idiot. I think you’re going to like it."

"The sky?" she mocks her, and Bee shoves her lightly.

"Come on, let’s do it together."

Finally, she looks up and the sight takes her breath away. Above her is the clearest night she’s ever seen. The night sky is sprinkled with hundreds of thousands of stars.

Her chest tightens and she looks over at Bee, who’s suddenly gone all quiet.

"Wow," Bee finally whispers. Poppy can’t help but agree.

"Yeah…" she sighs.

"I haven’t seen a sky like this in so long," Bee admits, her voice a little breathless. "It almost doesn’t feel real."

"Reminds you of home?" Poppy asks, despite herself.

Bee nods a few times. "Yeah. I mean, we’re getting closer to my hometown. I guess I just never quite realized how much of a home I left behind when I moved to New York."

"I don’t think I’ve ever seen a starry night like this one," Poppy whispers.

Bee smiles at her.

"My sister used to say that it seems like we had more of them there, in Farmsville. The stars, I mean," Bee laughs and spends one more moment soaking up the view before turning to fully face Poppy.

"It must’ve been nice," she murmurs, looking back at her. She means it.

"It was," Bee whispers, and reaches for her hand. Poppy’s fingers immediately interlace with Bee’s. "It’s nice being here with you too, you know."

The words tug at Poppy’s heart. Bee looks nervous, as if she’s not ready to hear Poppy’s answer to that almost-confession.

Poppy studies her for a moment, golden brown eyes seeming to crackle at the challenge. She’s searching for any kind of indication that Bee is lying to her, but all she can see reflected on her face is vulnerability. Maybe a few months ago, Poppy would have turned away with some cruel words and left, but she’s no longer afraid of what might happen between them. She just can’t put it into words yet.

(It’s kind of difficult now to muster hatred for the very girl who held her close at night, who won her a giant teddy bear and bought popcorn and drinks for her in one of the best not-dates she’s ever had, who helped make her so much less full of hatred in the first place.)

"I guess it is kind of nice," she says and her mind darts back to the conversation they had earlier during breakfast. The words they used were similar, but this time they carry a lot more meaning than before.

Bee looks at her intently and whispers, "You’re so pretty."

In a brief moment of weakness, Poppy finds herself staring at Bee’s parted lips. They look soft and there’s nothing she wants more than to kiss them right now, the overwhelming urge to do so only restrained by the last bit of rationality that her brain clutches onto in its confused state.

Instead, Poppy manages a little, "Hughes?" as the other girl turns and angles her body towards her.

Bee’s thumb is stroking the back of her hand where their fingers are still intertwined. Her other hand rests, warm and light, on Poppy’s bare leg. She’s also staring at her with affection and intoxication and something else swimming in her eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," Poppy says, the most sincere she’s ever been. "For today."

"I meant what I said before. I think we’re good together."

Her voice comes out a whisper, soft and husky in the space between them. What she says makes Poppy’s stomach do a little backflip and if the world wasn’t spinning before, it might as well be upside down after she realizes what Bee asks next. "Can I kiss you right now?"

And just like that, all aforementioned rationality escapes her. "Since when do you ask?"

————-🖤————-

Bee leans forward a little while Poppy meets her in-between. She smiles when she hears the little sound of pleasure that escapes Bee’s throat the moment their lips meet. She pulls her hand away from Bee’s and tangles her fingers in curly brown hair, tugging and scratching in places that draw out even more embarrassing sounds from Bee’s mouth.

Poppy groans into the kiss and places her hands on the back of Bee’s neck, angling herself so that her legs wrap around Bee’s waist so she’s practically straddling her.

They break the kiss for a second and Bee laughs under her breath. Poppy watches her, eyes adjusting to the sight of Bee Hughes under her, cheeks flushed and hair spread out in a halo around her head. Her lips are red and swollen, all traces of the cherry chapstick from earlier gone, and her golden eyes are shaded a different level of brown.

"You’re so beautiful," she whispers, admitting it out loud for the first time. Bee smiles and pulls her down towards her one more time.

Their lips meet again and again, and their breaths become more labored. Poppy couldn’t care less about the fact that they’re outside right now.

"Do you— Do you think anyone’s coming here?" Bee asks her, barely keeping her eyes open.

"I don’t think so," Poppy mumbles as she kisses Bee’s neck, her lipstick smudging as she presses her lips down harder on the spot and nips. It makes Bee blush and lean her head to the side to give her more access, her hands tangling into blonde hair.

She can see that Bee is trying to be quiet (she always asks her to be quiet, after all), but she can’t contain herself when Poppy’s hands wander up under her crop top and her teeth bite not so gently until she’s satisfied with the mark she’s left behind.

"Fuck," Bee groans, squirming underneath her as she tries to ignore the embarrassing amount of wetness collecting between her thighs. "Feels good."

Poppy smirks. "You like that?"

Bee’s too focused on getting Poppy moving again to do anything but nod, pulling her close until they’re kissing again, until she feels fingers deftly undoing the button of her shorts, until Poppy is going further, lips trailing down to ghost over the swells of Bee’s chest.

Poppy treats her body with a reverence Bee’s never gotten from her before, and she can do nothing but arch her back when fingers gently remove her from her crop top and jacket, leaving her exposed.

"Ah…!" Bee moans quietly when she feels the Poppy’s knee sliding between her thighs, pressing against her. She can’t help it as her head tips back in pleasure, and she’s breathless as she hears a voice in her ear. 

"Don’t hold back, Bee,” Poppy draws out her name, making her moan again. "Not this time."

------------------

Poppy wakes the next morning with a sleeping Bee next to her. The sunlight streaming through the window illuminates half of Bee’s face and sets her hair alight, making it clear that it’s well into the morning, but Poppy decides that five more minutes is most definitely in the schedule for today.

Her body is sore, but as her mind replays the events of the previous night, she can’t help but smile and blush slightly. This is definitely new for both of them, but… maybe she could get used to it.

She checks her phone. 7 am. They should be getting up soon.

"Bee, wake up," she taps her on the shoulder gently. "We have to leave soon."

Absentmindedly, Bee reaches out to pull Poppy back towards her so that she can tug her down and wrap her arms around her waist. "Don’t go."

"…Okay," she sighs.

After a moment’s hesitation, Poppy pats her head, a little awkwardly, and slides her other arm over Bee’s back. They lay there like that for a while in the quiet of the room. Part of Poppy notes, distantly, that Bee looks really beautiful when she’s sleeping.

Poppy looks down at the girl holding her with something that looks a lot like fondness. And to think, only a few months ago — no one ever would have thought this could be possible. Waking up next to Bee Hughes and spending all day with her. And having fun with her, at that. What a wild world it really is.

And yet.

Something about this road trip has really fucked with her. Like, perplexingly so.

Lately, she can’t look at Bee without her heart fluttering weirdly. She keeps thinking about how safe and protected she’d felt in Bee’s arms the other night after she had that nightmare, how warm she’d been.

How this is the same girl she wanted to destroy just weeks ago.

None of it makes sense, really. But she’s had years of practice with avoiding feelings she doesn’t understand, so she puts all that strange and confusing stuff in a box at the back of her mind to deal with later. For now, she’s determined to enjoy whatever’s left of their trip.

She’ll figure out the rest later. She keeps repeating herself that.

Tagging: @siegeofasgard221b @ownagef @veenast @baexpoppy @simp-pony @camren-jenlisa-is-real @noone6252