bytesized

It was between this or catching up on the latest season of The Crown. And while Layla would have loved to indulge herself with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and Elizabeth Debicki playing a very tall Princess Diana, the mysterious plans Riley had apparently thought out had left her away from the television remote and instead imprisoned within her obnoxiously large closet as she spent too long decided what she was going to wear in front of Riley. She shouldn’t care so much about what she’s wearing, right? She wants to agree with that other voice in her head and just slap some jeans on, but the other part of her that admittedly still wants to look nice for Riley wins. “Why are you like this?” she asks herself out loud, as she looks through the same row of dresses she had just looked at five times previously. Would a dress be trying too hard? What if she overdressed? Or worse, what if she underdressed? It would’ve been helpful to know exactly what Riley had planned out for them, but since they were a person of mysteries at the moment, she was inclined to go as nice as possible. After all, if it’s one thing she knows (though there are of course a lot of things she knows), it’s that Riley always goes all out with their plans.

She decides to attempt to compromise both comfort and elegance and chooses a red get-up that Nora had gifted her a while back. That, with her flat-ironing her hair and packing on the makeup – why is she acting like this is a date? It isn’t a date. Of course it isn’t. It’s just two friends hanging out… somewhere, wherever that is since she has no idea. As soon as she’s finish getting ready, she’s panicking slightly that she may have overdone it. What if Riley gets the wrong idea? What if they pull up at her house right now and they’re just chilling in jeans and a t-shirt, and she went all crazy for no reason? Is she so out of her mind that In Your Eyes is randomly playing in her head right now for no reason at all? Wait – no that’s happening outside of her head. It’s… at her door?

She opens her door, and immediately a blush rises to her cheeks seeing Riley in a suit. She only processes that for a second before realizing what else is going on here. A boombox, a poster… her eyes slightly widen in both surprise and confusion. “H-hey…” she greets lamely as her eyes dart between Riley’s face, the boombox, and the poster. Her heart flutters at their question. Prom? Her eyes wander to the limo parked in front of the house. Even though she’s still confused, she’s also touched by the gesture. Never mind they’re both in their late twenties about to go to prom. They fact they put this together just for her, well… she’s trying not to think too hard about it, considering their thoughtfulness has always been on the long list of reasons she loves them. But it’s a little hard to ignore her love for them when they’re standing out here with a boombox like they’re both inside an 80s teen flick. Layla had almost forgotten how much being around them always felt like the cheesy rom-coms they used to watch together. On what planet would she say no to them right now? Her eyes return to them. “W-wow, um… yeah! I’d love to,” she responds with a grin. “This is… very John Cusack of you. I-in a good way, I mean. This is all… incredible.” It feels so much like prom that she’s regressed back to the stammering awkward teen.

“So this is what you were plotting? I definitely didn’t have ‘going to prom for a third time’ on my list of guesses,” she teases. Remembering they’re just standing out here, she gestures towards the inside of her house. “Did you want to put all of that down…? I’m ready to go, I just need to get my purse.” She pauses, the suit they’re wearing catching her eye again. She knows she should say something, she wants to say something, but it’s been a long time since she was able to so casually comment about how gorgeous or beautiful they were. She’s already feeling like a teenager again, but right now she feels like she’s back in the earlier phase where she used to struggle with giving them real compliments, instead of the later phase where she had been more lax with the compliments. “You look…” She is not going to just say “nice”, she refuses. With a small mental push, she gives a proper compliment. “… very dashing, by the way. That’s a nice suit.”

—

A siren rings through their brain reminding them to play everything cool and casual. They cannot, will not, mess this up by forgetting themself entirely and making her uncomfortable by letting their true emotions shine through. Despite their own personal warnings, however, the smile on their face would find it physically impossible to grow any larger while they stand there looking her over. It isn’t until Layla offers for them to put some of their things down that they realize staring at her with a large grin in complete silence isn’t the best way to go about acting like they only have platonic feelings for her. “Oh! Yeah, yeah, sure... which of the three empty bedrooms should I be putting this poster in?” they jest with a cheeky grin as they make their way into her home. 

Riley is about to offer to put on the corsage when Layla pays them a compliment. The warmth in their chest pools, pulling them back into the silence they had just gotten themself out of. What they want to say is just that — Layla is leaving them breathless, speechless, completely in disarray —, but, of course, Riley knows better, so instead, they settle for less. Though their eyes are soft and pupils dilated, Riley responds, “Aw, thank you. You’re too kind. I was worried the red suit might be a bit too much, but I think it worked out quite nicely seeing as we coordinated without even trying, huh? Unless Beck gave you a hint somehow? I wouldn’t put it past her.” They stop themself, realizing they’re beginning to scramble in their uncertainty of how to compliment her correctly. “You’re absolutely beautiful.. you always are, but you look absolutely stunning tonight,” they finally add before silence takes over them once more. 

Catching themself before they linger too long in silence once more, Riley’s eyes drop to the simple, white rose corsage they brought for her. “Before you get your purse, I better get this on you.” Eyes lift up to her, before they set their other things down and take a step towards her. Carefully taking the corsage out of the box, their hand reaches out to gingerly take her hand in their own and slip it onto her wrist. “There you go,” they add. Flinching slightly as they begin to pull her hand up to kiss it, Riley catches themself and gently pats the top of her hand with their free one before letting her go. 

“And um... to answer your initial question, yeah, I’d be lying if I didn’t get a little excited when I first saw the ad on my phone. It’s my favorite bar that’s putting it on for Pride month, and while it’s not 80s themed or anything... I don’t know...” Riley trails off, finding themself flustered now that they have to put reason behind their extreme planning without giving any details of their emotions behind it all. “You were the first name that came to mind for who to bring, so it only seemed fitting I at least try to do something on theme to the last promposal. I uh...” their cheeks burn and ache slightly as they stifle a laugh, “...wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t ask the best cha-cha slider on Western hemisphere after all. I’m just hoping you’ll give me a heads up if you decide to break out any of your dance moves? I can’t bear the idea of being shown up on home turf.”

Another conflict in time periods happens as Riley shifts next to her, arm around her back and hand rubbing against it to comfort her. She doesn’t fight the gesture. She manages to find the familiarity somewhat comforting, if only for a moment. She looks down as Riley expresses their regrets in leaving. She didn’t think they’d stop loving her the moment they left, but it was apparent, to her at least, that she hadn’t been enough to make them want to stay. And back then, that thought alone devastated her and messed with her head for a long time. If she had known back then what they were telling her now, how different would things be? Neither of them would ever know. Riley places all the blame on themself, but that doesn’t retroactively wash away how she had felt back then. But what causes her head to turn toward them is when they explain that they could have never replaced her. That clashes with the decade-long assumption she had for so long that they moved on and forgot about her. So long she thought she had been a fool here, still having them on her mind no matter how many years had passed. 

These mentions of Steve Carrell movies and ring pops are nearly enough for her to tear her walls down completely, say “fuck it”, and kiss them right here. She still isn’t quite sure how to take their statement of always choosing her, after everything that’s happened. Do they still love her? She has no idea why she’s asking herself that question. Because really, what does the answer matter? If the answer is no, then she’s completely alone in this struggle to move on. But if the answer is yes, all she can think about is the wear and tear her heart went through for years. It’s as if her heart had gone through so much emotional trauma that it can’t bear to give herself up like that again. She forces logic to come in play here, because in reality Riley’s only recently come back to her life. She knows so much of the Riley she knew and loved in high school, but not the Riley now. She can’t afford to be that naïve kid again who allowed herself to be completely consumed by one person only for it all to be shattered. She barely survived it the first time. So, she’ll try the friend route, which she’s convinced herself is the safer route to go. To try and get back the best friend she’s been without for so long, because despite only recently coming into her life, Riley is the closest thing to a best friend she has here right now. Which sounds sad, but true friends are few and far between in Hollywood.

She wipes some tears that had fallen while Riley spoke. “I just wish we had this conversation sooner,” she admits softly. It feels ten years too late. But at least it happened. That’s more than what she thought she would ever get the last decade. “But we can’t change the past. So I guess we’ll have to work on the future.” She pauses to sniffle and think about their proposal. Naturally she’s hesitant to “really” talk to them, but that’s just instinct from her fear of getting hurt again. She knows that if this is going to work, she has to try on her end also. “You can… stay over, if you want. I don’t mind,” she offers. Even though they have roommates to keep them company, she still makes the offer in case they would be more comfortable with her instead when they’re feeling like this. “I have, like, three bedrooms that no one uses…  that’s totally a normal thing for someone to say.” She chuckles. “But… I would like that. Not just about me. I want to hear about you, too.” 

She isn’t quite sure yet if she feels better or worse after this unexpected burst of emotion and string of confessions. But she doesn’t want to stay away from Riley, so that’s a good sign, right? She rests her chin on her knees. “It isn’t stupid or pathetic, by the way,” she speaks softly after a moment of silence passes between them. “There have been times where something reminded me of you. I never really… had another best friend after you.” She offers a small shrug. “The whole ‘industry’ thing gets a little lonely sometimes. Sure, you have people flocking to you asking for every little thing all the time but… that doesn’t really make it any less lonely. So, it’s been nice having a familiar face around every day. Someone who feels…” She nearly says “like home” but she knows that would be too much. “… I don’t know, ‘comfortable’, I guess.”

—

They begin nodding, but stop abruptly upon her mention of not being able to change the past. Unable to decipher if this is some sort of warning or reminder that there really is no hope for the two of them working towards the connection they had before — the platonic friendship of course — or just a statement in itself, Riley settles for the fact that either way they need to back off. “I know, and I’m so sorry I did it this way... It was really fucking selfish of me.” Clearly, as much as they liked to believe that they had grown and changed for the better, there were still major flaws which need to be worked on. Maybe if they would have given themself a few more minutes for reflection, Riley might’ve realized that it was complete bullshit for them to be the one breaking the silence to tell her they’ve missed her, that they still miss her. 

“I just, I guess I want to also say that I know all the work to regain your trust and be friends again after all the harm I did as a kid is completely on me, and I will really work hard because I do want you back in my life.” Riley’s nervous biting into their lip finally draws blood, forcing a deep, shaky exhale as they try and stretch their body slightly to relax and release the tension still building up inside them. “...but I hope it also goes without saying, I know that doesn’t happen overnight, so if I ever take it too far, or if you just decide that this—” they gesture between the two of them, “—is not something you want... that we should just remain you know... coworkers? I understand, and I respect your choice completely.” Of course, Riley knows that nothing about what they have said is false. They love her too much to ever make her feel guilty about not wanting something — them — that might not be good for her. Still, even the possibility of not being able to amend the harm they’ve done stings more than they’d like to admit.

Her offer for them to stay the night brings an uncomfortable warmth to their face, one that burns their cheeks and leaves their mouth feeling dry and unable to respond for a moment. “Oh...” they finally begin, unsure of how to turndown the offer gracefully when it’s clear it’s nothing more than her just being polite and, once again, far too nice to them, “...don’t worry about it. I just didn’t know if you wanted help with the clean up, but uh... as nice as the choice between three open beds sound, I’ve got a weighted blanket at home calling my name.” 

Everything else that Layla expresses leaves them once again lost in a state of uncertainty and silence. It’s nice, of course, hearing that she’s thought of them over the years or at least been reminded of them once or twice, but unlike their situation when reflecting on her, Riley knows that there’s a fairly high chance of her moments of nostalgia being less sentimental and more resentful. Her comments of them making her feel comfortable comes at a surprise however. Riley’s eyebrows hike upwards in surprise as they look her over. Layla’s offer for them to stay in one of her spare rooms for the night could easily be written off as her just wanting to be nice, but this is something else entirely.

Without even fully realizing what they are doing, Riley begins opening up, “My parents were really upset with my choice for Georgia Tech. They wanted me closer to home, like Yale or even MIT, but uh... I was really sick of the cold and as far as I was aware, the queer scene has never exactly been vibrant in New Haven or Cambridge. I got a full ride and some extra scholarships which was great because it meant I didn’t have to keep in touch with my parents, but well... still have bills to pay and food and everything don’t you? So um, anyways, I picked up a lot of random jobs.. I actually tried being this barista-bartender at a coffee shop bar, but seriously sucked, so they just kept me as the host and waiter. I’ve performed in drag shows a few times, which was fun. I still skateboard a lot... there’s like, no public transit in Atlanta, so it was less cool tricks than just needing to get places. I started seeing someone towards the end of my freshmen year? I had this... bad night, and there were really no more excuses that I could make for not seeking help, so... anyways, she was super into mindfulness and mind body connection shit, which I hated at first, but I actually love now. It’s how I got into yoga, and I do it just about everyday. I am actually a certified instructor now... it’s one of the odd jobs I picked up, and it gave me a free gym membership, so why not?” Riley isn’t quite sure why the idea of them being a yoga instructor makes them bashful, but they suppose it’s likely one of the last jobs their high-school self would’ve ever envisioned for themself as well.

“But anyways... so funny story? Within like my first three months of therapy, my therapist had me try out a weekend silent retreat... as you can imagine, did not go well, but I don’t know, I’ve actually been thinking I might do one again after this project. I really want a dog or a cat, maybe both, but I’ve also been trying to be that plant parent gay, and as much as I love the plants, I suck at remembering when to water which ones, so I’m holding off on any long term commitments like pets until I figure my shit out more... Plus, with school and then trying to find just about any job before and after graduation to pay the bills, I haven’t really traveled. It’s just so fucking expensive, but I think that’s next for me... go off the grid maybe.. then again, maybe I can find a job over seas.. either way, no time to get a pet. Um... I mean you met Beck, but we have another roommate Ralph, who’s like just about the coolest person I’ve ever met. We also have a friend Ava who I’m sure you’ll meet if you’re around more. She’s sweet as can be and really talented. They’re probably my closest friends. Other than that though, I still try to stay connected to my friends in Mystic, and I have a good group from Atlanta, but uh.. I don’t talk to my parents anymore, and that’s kinda it.” They shrug nonchalantly, not even recognizing they had left out an individual that had interrupted things during their dinner about a week prior. 

I used to host a podcast that was pretty fun, but that dropped off after the movie gigs kicked into high gear. I actually liked it a lot... maybe I’d even do that while I travel. I don’t know... ” they realize now that they’ve been talking nearly nonstop, but don’t feel like ending it on a more low note. “Fast fact time? Favorite album is a toss up between Melodrama and ANTI. Flower Boy and Good News are up there. Favorite movie is Moonlight or maybe Interstellar... also The Lobster, but those last two are just for when I’m high. Favorite color is golden yellow. I have quite a few tattoos now, at least one for each place I’ve lived. I can only sleep with a pillow on my stomach, kinda like I’m spooning it. I don’t drink or use drugs nearly as much as I did back in college, but my favorite alcoholic drink is this sour beer they make back in Atlanta, and non-alcoholic is still iced coffee with vanilla.” Knowing that they’ve been going on a bit too long, they finish with a small, genuine smile and one final fact, “Oh, and I’m ordained now, online of course, but it’s official. I’ve even officiated one wedding.”

Layla lets out a small laugh when Riley brings up her “probably.” She gives a playful shrug. “Well, yeah, I have to keep the possibility open that I’ll come across Harry Styles or a recently divorced Beyoncé,” she teases. Though she jests, in the back of her mind she’s certain that she would still choose Riley over either of her top celebrity crushes. No, Riley has marked themself as irreplaceable in her heart, labels or no labels. It doesn’t feel real when they confess their life has been better with her in it – she can’t fathom having that effect on a person. But Riley, while sometimes leaning into hyperbole, has never come across as insincere to her. “Why… are you talking like you’re going to die any second now?” she questions with a raised eyebrow, before letting out a laugh. “If you’re going to pull A Walk to Remember on me, maybe let me know after this weekend? You’ve already told me you’re leaving, any more big news this weekend would just be cruel.” Her smile softens as Riley adjusts themself so they are completely in her lap. She’s not used to feeling so much toward one person. There’s so much she wants to say to them, but her brain and mouth have never agreed on anything. Sometimes that’s for the best, though she isn’t sure if this is one of those times. “I’ll ‘deal’ with your simping for however long you want to simp,” she tells them, while the words may come off as humorous, the softness on her face as she replies indicated she’s being serious. Really, she wants that to last forever, and if Riley’s implying it will be for that long, then that’s all she can ask for.

While one of her strengths has always been her self-control, she’s never found it more difficult than right now as they make out in the hot tub. Hands unsure of where to go with all this exposure of skin, under the water Layla moves her hands in circles across Riley’s back. As their lips move from her mouth to her jaw, Layla places light kisses on their shoulder as one hand moves down their back. Her brain goes haywire from the combination of Riley’s hands and lips on her skin, and one specific spot on her neck their lips touch causes a moan to rise up her throat unexpectedly. With the ache between her legs growing, and the way Riley’s maneuvering around her bra, she finds herself craving more, instead of feeling hesitation. Her current raging hormones have her completely forgetting that a hot tub is probably not the most ideal place for her first time, and it’s not until Riley asks how she feels that she’s broken her out of her trance. 

She’s feeling slightly light-headed and words don’t come to her right away with Riley’s question. Instead she laughs at Riley’s remark about needing a cold shower. Her face is burning, and she’s in disbelief that for a second there she was fully ready to go all the way in a hot tub. She can’t really blame herself, considering Riley is really good at making out. It’s almost unfair, actually, how good they are. “I-I um… that was…” Her brain hasn’t yet returned to normal functioning. “It was… grope.” She blinks in shock, realizing that was not the word she meant to use. She was still thinking about Riley’s hands on her bra. “Uh! I m-mean it was great! Dope! B-both! Great and dope!” She nods frantically before shaking her head and letting out an embarrassed groan as she rests her forehead against their shoulder in defeat. 

FLASH FORWARD TO THE NEXT DAY - SLEIGH RIDE

“Oh my God! Look at that horse! He’s so cute!” Layla beams at the brown and white horse tied to the bright red sleigh they’re about to get on. It’s easy to be fascinated with anything that’s outside of Mystic – or, more specifically, outside of her room, since she’s sure there are horses somewhere in Mystic. Just not anywhere she goes regularly. Her mitten-covered hand squeezes Riley’s as she gapes at the majestic creature. “Since I can’t have a dog, maybe I’ll get a horse for a pet. Although my apartment’s a little too small so I’m gonna have wait until I live somewhere a bit bigger,” she jokes. She hops on the sleigh first and quickly turned toward Riley to grab their other hand and pull them up. Once they both sit, Layla links her arm around Riley’s. To say she’s excited to go on a romantic sleigh ride is a bit of an understatement. She hasn’t allowed herself to think too much about Riley leaving, so as to not taint the weekend. Not saying it hasn’t slipped through her mind a few times already, but she wants to try really hard to focus on the weekend now and not what comes later. 

Her eyes wander to their snowy surroundings. A lot of people hate winter because of the cold, but she actually loves it. “Snow’s so beautiful. Winter without it feels so incomplete, you know? There’s something so magical about it… like no matter how old you are it can still bring out the little kid in you.” She turns to them and smiles. “We should totally make some snow angels after this. I love untouched snow. It’s like a blank canvas. And snow angels are about the only art I can do besides writing,” she chuckles.

—

With the way Layla smiles once they grow a bit closer to the sleigh, it becomes nearly impossible for Riley’s to not mirror hers. As they make their way up onto the sleigh to join her, their interest peaks upon her mention to live somewhere a bit larger. Everything is shrouded in playfulness, but they still cannot help themself from asking a bit more about her idyllic future. “Is that the dream then? End goal is a big old house maybe in the country for some horses?” Lips press gently onto her shoulder and then to her cheek, although there’s a hint of smugness to their grin as they pull away and turn their attention back to the scenery ahead of them. “Big old wrap around porch with a swing to match and some picket fence lining the whole place? Or am I completely off?” Riley trails off again, biting their tongue to hold back a smirk and laughter before adding on, “Because personally? I had a rather recent realization that the one thing I’ll definitely be needing is a hot tub.” They hold their gaze ahead for less than a second before looking back over at her and breaking into a fit of laughter immediately. Riley’s forehead rocks into the crook of her neck as they let their burst of laughter fade naturally. 

Once they’ve calmed down at least a bit, they prop their chin up to rest on Layla’s shoulder and lean in to give her a small peck on her cheek. “Sorry... I kinda had to.... although I wouldn’t blame you if you threw me out of this sleigh right now. It could start our snow angel making early. It might be a bit avant-garde, but I think it’d work regardless.” The playfulness doesn’t completely subside, but their smile softens as they eye her a bit more. The more they think about just how lucky they are to have someone like Layla in their life — someone who not only puts up with them but accepts them and somehow, maybe, even enjoys their antics — the more the almost slip up from last night resurfaces in their head. Could it really be that they might be on the verge of falling for her? Were they even the type of person that could do that or even be that for someone as wonderful as Layla? “I do want to double back on something, because as much as I would love to test out your snow angel making skills the moment this sleigh ride ends, I also really cannot believe you’d say something as ridiculous as it being one of the only artistic things you can do.. what about baking? Your barista skills and lil latte art? I’m pretty sure I remember some damn good doodles on a little recipe card a certain someone gave me? Also... I think I could make a very persuasive argument for how your art of cuddling is a literal masterpiece. So what do you say about all of that hm? Still think your only artistic abilities are writing and snow angel making?”

Layla cracks a small smile at Riley’s initial response, and mirrors them by wrapping her arms around them. Something definitely feels off with them, she just doesn’t understand what. “Regretfully, I know you too well,” she teases, placing a quick peck on their head. She hates when the outside – such as Riley’s issues with their mother – invades  the safe space that her bedroom is supposed to provide. But she could never blame Riley for having to tend to their mother. She only wishes there was something she could do about it. Still, their answer doesn’t feel satisfactory to her. She can’t shake it. She debates settling the matter by allowing them to go off on their way. But ultimately she can’t go against her curious nature and decides to keep poking them.

“Of course I understand,” she tells them, a hand coming up to gently stroke their cheek. She can’t help but wonder if something happened at the party while she wasn’t looking. Were the guests more overbearing than usual? Did her parents do something? Is her mind only making up scenarios in her head because that’s what her mind does best? “And I wish there was something I could do to help.” When it came to parents, they both seem pretty powerless at the moment. But one day, she must hope, that will change. “Are you… sure, that’s all?” Eyes study their face, searching for something she still isn’t quite sure is there. She’s simply going by a hunch. “Nothing happened at the party? Any rude guests? Well, ruder than usual, I suppose.” A thumb lightly brushes along their lower lip. “You can speak to me about anything. Always.”

—

Trapped and nowhere to hide any half truths or partial lies to save her from any guilt or discomfort on what should be a nice night, Riley remains quiet for a moment to gather their thoughts. The last thing that they want is to speak out of turn when they know this is already an extremely sensitive topic. Eyes lift upwards to hers as their hands take her face carefully into their grasp. Would they know when it was the last time that they got to hold her like this? Would it, in some way, feel different, or would they be holding her close one day only to be unable to the next? If tonight has served as anything positive, it has been a reminder that their ability to love Layla in the way they always wished and dreamed has an expiration date, and they haven’t a moment with her to waste.

Tilting their head slightly upwards, Riley’s lips press gently into hers for a brief kiss. Once they’ve pulled away, their hands drop to hers to lead her back to her bed to sit. “No one said anything to me. I’m alright as far as that goes, but — I suppose I just don’t want to be around when a particular guest is brought up by your parents, and considering the way he was looking at you, I know it will happen just as soon as they figure it’s been more than enough time to help you change.” Riley quiets for a moment, allowing her a moment to process as their thumb rubs the back of her hand. “I fear if I don’t make my exit before they begin asking you about your thoughts and feelings regarding Mr. Clarke I’ll say or do something out of turn that will let them know my true feelings for you... that I love you. Please do not think that by my saying this means that I’m in any way questioning your feelings for me or even for him, but — it’s only a matter of time before their suggestions are less of a choice and more of an obligation, and I unfortunately would be lying if I were to say I’m not a victim to jealousy when thinking of you on your wedding day.”

Despite her initial protest, her hesitation is already beginning to crumble from the temptation of freedom. It would be the smart thing to do, to heed the horror story of her great aunt and not leave this hotel room without any protection. But she reluctantly admits that Riley has a point. People would definitely notice her more with a hoard of guards surrounding her like they always do.. She’s not a fan of admitting they’re right. But, well, they’re right. She’s confused initially when Riley comes up to her with a beanie after she takes the beer, and she lets out a confused chuckle when they put it on her. She couldn’t look any less like herself right now. While her reservations about this plan were already fading, they’re destroyed all together at the reminder that Riley is leaving soon and the mention of Remzi. What does that say about her, that she’s willing to get drunk and walk through the streets with someone who tends to irritate her a fair percentage of the time, rather than allow them to go off with the rather annoying American man they’re supposed to pretend to date? She chooses not to dwell on that question. Her mind’s now made up. She’s about to do something insane.

“Fine. I’ll go. But if anything happens to me, you should be warned that my parents will most certainly bring back beheading as capital punishment,” she teases with a small smirk. She takes a sip of the beer, making a slightly displeased face afterwards as she hates the taste of beer, but the goal here is to get drunk so she’ll manage. She walks over to a mirror hanging from one of the walls to look at herself in the beanie. Honestly, this disguise may work. She actually barely recognizes herself. “Goodness. I look like I should be out getting fast food with Tony Hawk instead,” she lightly remarks, adjusting the beanie on her head. “Though, I do draw the line at skateboarding. Don’t get any ideas.” She takes another sip before she takes a seat at the edge of the bed. Despite her current get-up, she’s still conditioned to sit up straight with her legs slanted together.

She examines them for a moment. While she would definitely say she’s a better choice than Remzi – platonically, of course – she still doesn’t quite understand why they would want continue to hang out tonight. The gala was an environment they were trapped in for a time, but they didn’t exactly have to invite her out now. She slowly turns the bottle in her hands. “I thought you would have been tired of me once the gala was finished.” She’s projecting, because truthfully with how Riley had been acting it should’ve been her being tired of them. No one’s ever been so hellbent on pushing her buttons. Yet the phenomenon of her still wishing to be around them despite that is alive and well. Surely normal people would have grown tired of it by now. Her eyes fall to the bottle in her hands. “It… sounds nice, doing something without paparazzi around for a change. I don’t get to do that very often. I do want you to tell me the truth about something, though…” She looks up at them. “… does fast food actually taste good? Because if it’s as good as it looks… my expectations may be a little low.”

—

Despite their attempts to veil any excitement, Riley’s lips twist even further upwards and even crack into a broad grin at her official agreement to join them. “Have you that little faith in me, Your Highness?” they push back before adding on, “Don’t worry though. I’m sure I’m mother would be leading the brigade on that motion if I let something happen to you. I’m on thin enough ice as it is, and I quite like my head where it is.” Watching her as Layla takes her first sip of beer, Riley tries but fails to stifle a small bit of laughter. “Not a fan?” Their eyebrows hike upwards for a moment. “I can’t blame you. This stuff is the closest I could find to the type of beer I was drinking back in college, or uh... uni. I figured it’d only be right to stay on theme with the drunk fast food night we have planned. You’re getting the whole experience, Princess.”

Taking a seat on the window sill, Riley shoots her an amused look upon her reference to skateboarding. “You may be drawing the line at skateboarding, but I have to say... I’m quite flattered you even remembered that small detail about me. Now, you can correct me if I’m wrong, but dare I say there might be a reason you remembered that piece of information? Maybe even because you are secretly dying to ask me to teach you how to skateboard?” They let their question hang in the air for the briefest of moments before continuing, “We could add it to the agenda for our next BFF Outing. A skateboarding and sonnet soiree... I teach you how to skate and you teach me a thing or two about how to write the next great piece of poetry. Don’t worry though, I’m sure we have more than enough time to plan since I’m not quite sure the next time either of us will be spending time in each other’s vicinities for awhile.” Riley’s only teasing her, of course, but while they do enjoy poking fun, they also know they’re on rather thin ice from earlier this evening. The least they could do is not act as if they weren’t paying any attention during their previous bonding session, never mind the fact that they had unintentionally memorized everything they have learned about her since that evening. 

Eyes narrow slightly when she brings up them being tired of her. Really, they expect they should be, and she, even more than them, should feel the same with them. Yet, here they both were still somehow looking to spend a bit more time with each other. They consider it all for a moment. Bringing the bottle of beer upwards for a sip, they try their best to mask the fact that their lips pulling further upwards at her comment. If Riley had been more observant, they might have even recognized they hadn’t been able to stop smiling since stepping into her room this evening, but they decide to not think too deeply into things and instead humor her a bit. “I probably should be shouldn’t I? I gotta say it’s rather tiresome constantly being reminded of the fact that one-upped every time I’m in a room with you. I have this thing about being the most f— desirable person in the room.” Riley takes another sip of their beer in another attempt to mask their shit grin plastered across their face, “Maybe you’re growing on me, or then again, maybe it’s just that I think it might be good to be humbled every once in awhile. Gotta tame the ego. It’s not often I get turned down, whether joking or completely genuine. What was that you called me again?” Their lips press together and fingers tap along the outside of their glass bottle as if they didn’t have it cemented into their memory. “Ah yes, a child. That was it. I guess that just leads me to ask you the same thing? What is it that made you decide to do me the honor of spending the evening with me, a child? Go on, humor me just a bit, or humble me, I’ve already told you I think it might be good for me. Unless of course it is just an excuse to have some good greasy food without photographers in your face for every second, which I suppose is a good enough answer in itself.” Finishing off their drink, Riley grabs one more with a rather good natured smile on their face. They’re hoping the shift in making fun of her to making fun of themself will at least lighten things slightly. “To answer your question though, I promise, it’s so much better than it looks. But um... so we’ve got the drunken fast food coming up to check off your new and improved no-paparazzi-bucket-list, mind me asking what else is on there?”

“Oh –” Layla’s inebriated brain takes too long to think of a proper response for Beck, as she’s soon gone to get her stuff. “Okay,” she breathes with a small chuckle, before looking at Riley. Eyes glance down briefly to their hand on their arm, before returning to them with a small smile. This is for the best, she’s convinced herself. Anything longer would be… too much. And she tries to look at the positive of this – things appear a little clearer after tonight, that they are and should be on the road to friendship. It’s perfectly fine that they’re seeing someone. Or more than someone. That last thought will need some convincing but she’s determined to stick by it. It’s not like she was actively trying for something more than friendship, after all. She hopes over time, moments alone like this will gradually get better, that this conflict she keeps feeling with eventually fade. “Oh, no, I’ll be fine. Thank you. I just need some water in my system and I’ll be good.” She doesn’t even feel like she’s the one saying the words right now. Her body’s simply gone into autopilot, waiting to finally be able to escape so she can give herself some time to recover from all that’s happened.

She’s admittedly relieved when Beck reappears, and she gives them a small nod. She looks at Riley and smiles tiredly. Tomorrow is a new day, she hopes, so she decides to accept their offer. “Sure, that would be great. Thank you. The meeting’s at nine. Actually, I’ll text it to you, in case the wine makes you forget in the next five minutes,” she chuckles. She’s caught off guard by the hug initially, but she reciprocates. A blush rises to her cheeks as Riley whispers that they meant everything they said. A fleeting thought passes that she wants to stay, but she still has some self control left to pull away and smile down at them. “I will. Thank you… for dinner. I had fun too.” She means it, even if the night turned a bit sour at the end there. She has no one to blame but herself on that one. “Let’s do this again soon? Not a whole feast –” she can’t help but tease a bit. “– but… hang out again? Soon? I’d like that.” She finally takes a couple of steps back towards Beck. “And thank you so much for the ride, Beck. We should go before I pass out on your floor,” she jokes. She gives Riley a small wave and one last smile before heading out with Beck.

—

It wasn’t exactly a rejection, but things still feel... off to Riley. The sharp shift in the general air of the evening is by no means surprising — even they were caught off guard by the mention of Jo —, so they could only imagine how Layla must be feeling. Even neglecting the fact that Riley is still in love with her, they wouldn’t exactly be delighted to hear about any current or former love interests, flings, or hook ups alike in Layla’s life. Her statement that she’d like to do something like this again helps slightly relieves the tension building in Riley’s shoulders and chest, but they’re still left too drunk and uncomfortable to do much other than nod their head and give her a small wave in return as she walks out the door with Beck. Remaining frozen in their place for a moment longer, Riley releases a low groan before heading back to their room.

....

As the two had said their goodbyes, Beck kept her attention on anything other than the two of them. Finding interest in her cuticles, the slightly chipped paint of the door frame that she’d have to find time to fix up, and her reflection in the blank screen of her phone, Beck didn’t turn to face the two of them until Layla spoke to her directly. Spinning on her heels, she dismisses her gratitude with a flourish of her hand. “Oh, please. It’s not a problem at all.” Turning to Riley, Beck attempts to give her best supportive grin as she props the door open for Layla to head out, “I’ll get her back safely, don’t you worry. Go drink some water for me, okay?" The guilt of breaking up the pair’s moment weighs heavily on her. Riley hasn’t really told her much of anything regarding where the two of them stand now, or any feelings that they have for her, but seeing the way they light up when talking about her and the grin splattered on their face before she interrupted was all the evidence she needed. 

Although she wants to try and hint at things with Layla now that she has her all alone, Beck isn’t too keen on messing anything up for her friend by being too forward, so she begins with, “Sorry about the abrupt interruption I had there. I’m always so bad about that kind of... you know... timing thing, but I’m hoping the two of you still had a nice night before I came barging in?” That had to be innocent enough, right? She nervously scratches her forehead, trying to keep her focus on the path in front of her rather than looking over at Layla. Beck’s almost positive the other woman would be able to catch on to what she was up to if they maintained eye-contact for too long. 

“This is me!” she blurts out before unlocking the door and climbing in, “So — I know we’ve known each other all of — what, four minutes maybe — but I’m hoping I’ll be seeing more of you over at our place? I’ve only heard amazing things about you, which... if I think about it... might be a bit concerning, no one can be that perfect after all ... Are you hiding some deep dark secret?” Eyes flash with a mischievous smile on her lips, hoping that the gentle joke can help relieve some of the tension. “Anyways, I trust Riley’s judgment — wait, for the most part, I’ve never had a friend that passionate about everything. I suppose I do take a lot of what they say with a grain of salt, but... point being, I’ll never say no to a new friend that’s as awesome as they say you are, so uh... feel free to drop by anytime, yeah? Ralph, Riley, and I could use a fourth person for game nights or drunk reality dating show nights. Those two always bicker, and I’m kinda stuck in the middle, so I’m sure they’d appreciate it if someone sided with one of them for once.”

Pausing for a moment, Beck looks down at the car’s console, realizing she has yet to either turn on the car or plug in Layla’s address. “Wait... I should probably know where we’re going huh? Sorry about that. Wanna put your address in, so we can get you home safe and save lil Riley from passing out from nerves?”

Riley hadn’t really known what was going through their head when they first saw the social media graphic for the Queer Prom at their favorite gay club in the city. Within the span of two minutes, they had booked two tickets and sent Layla a vague text telling her to clear her calendar for that evening and to wear something she’d be okay having pictures taken in. On one hand, it is Pride Month, which is not focused on anything romantic, including the Queer Prom, but once they considered how she might take things when she found out their plans for the evening — given the fact that they had in fact attended one senior prom together and not Layla’s due to the break-up — nerves started kicking in.

Anyone else might have ensured that things were kept more casual — invite a few other friends to join them rather than meet them maybe, picked her up in their car, not gone through the work to make a poster board —, but Riley being Riley ( and completely unable to half ass anything when it came to Layla ), they have successfully pulled out everything that they could think of to make this night worthwhile. Dressed up in a comfortable suit, Riley grabs the corsage box in their hand along with the Prom Poster before stepping out of the limo. With a shaky breath, they grab the finishing piece — a boombox which they click play on to blast In Your Eyes — which they prop up on their shoulder before making their way to her door.  

Whether minutes or seconds, the wait nearly becomes unbearable with their hands growing sweatier and sweatier by the moment, leaving them needing to adjust their grip on the poster and boombox, until — “Hey — ” Their lips immediately pull into a small smile, mouth opening and closing as Riley’s left speechless while they look over her. Remembering themself after sitting in silence for a bit too long, they finally shake their Prom poster for her before asking, “I know it’s not a whole choreographed dance routine, but would you do me the honor of being my date to the Queer Prom tonight, Lil Broderick?”

Layla purses her lips in thought at Riley’s question. Granted, she has an idea of what she wants to do already forming in the back of her mind, but that’s going to be a surprise. While either way it wouldn’t matter to her, maybe the theme for their first Valentine’s Day should be something big and eventful. It would have been a waste of decades of consuming every cheesy rom-com known to man if they didn’t do big and eventful, really. “Well, the only romantic Valentine’s Day I’ve ever done was using my allowance to have dinner and dessert at Red’s. With soda in wine glasses to make it less sad-broke-teenager,” she laughs. If only teenage her had foreseen she was going to end up celebrating Valentine’s Day one day with the love of her life. She would’ve thought someone spiked that soda in the wine glass. “So that being said… I think the twenty-six-year-old me would like to do something a bit more eventful with her partner she loves very much?” Fork in one hand, she rests the other on top of Riley’s hand that’s on her thigh. “Only because it’s our first one together. If you just want to watch Crazy, Stupid, Love every year for Valentine’s while I bake some heart-shaped cookies after this year, I’m game. I hear they have gondola rides over there. There’s an idea. Or I’m just happy hanging out at Santa Monica pier with you. Kissing you on the ferris wheel sounds romantic.” 

Even though she’s sticking food in her mouth, she’s too focused on Riley to actually enjoy what she’s eating. She’s normally a patient person, but all this planning it going to make the next couple weeks a killer in terms of waiting. “You know, as tempting as that is, I can’t risk you getting arrested. He doesn’t have a sense of humor,” she chuckles. “I’m pretty sure he has one of those fancy L.A. homes with a security gate and cameras anyway. He’s not worth the effort. Losing Nora and Nathan’s probably punishment enough. Maybe someday if we ever end up at the same Hollywood party as him, we’ll plot to trip him. Blame it on the alcohol.” She leans back in her seat to take a break from eating and smiles at them. Last night feels like a distant memory at this point, with how happy she currently is. “It’s crazy… every time I think I can’t get any happier, you prove me wrong.” Her features soften. What she says next surprises even her with not a stutter to be heard. Just raw, unapologetic feeling. Because she loves them so. “Not just because of Valentine’s. Although I do think it’s super dope I get to have you as my Valentine’s. You… are everything, to me. That’s really the only way I can sum it up. You’re everything, and I’m perfectly fine with that. Every second in my life I had to wait to get here, to be with you, to love you, all of it’s been worth it.”

—

Riley’s facial features soften as the image of a younger Layla saving up and spending the little money she had for her high school significant other takes form. “I don’t know why you’re saying that as if it’s not one of the sweetest things I’ve ever heard. If little me would’ve been on the receiving end of that, knowing that you just spent all your money to make my day, I would’ve been wrapped around your finger.” Give them a few years and a bit of time in Atlanta, it would’ve been a completely different story: after the fire, being in an environment that was more friendly to people like them, and not having any knowledge on what healthy dating habits look like. But, younger them — the one that craved acceptance, affection, and love — well it would’ve been game over. “I feel like you should know by now that it’s a pretty dangerous thing to let me know that you want to do something more eventful with me. Now, I’m going to be spending these next few weeks planning out an entire affair for you. I’m already pretty set on getting a car to go for a drive down the coast at least one day. If you want, we could even spend the day with whatever festivities I can think up and then head out to a little beach house or something to watch the sunset in the privacy of our own little place? Unless you want to spend the whole day and night exploring? Trust me, I can fill up our time. I’ll probably be stumped trying to figure out what to leave out of this trip’s plans, so... that being said... you gotta rein me in a bit, or I’ll have us doing things all the way through midnight. Besides, I bet there’ll be at least 10 midnight romantic events going on within like a 20 block radius of my apartment, so the decision is all yours.”

Her next statement brings them to complete silence. Riley hadn’t spent much time thinking about what it really meant to love and be loved in return until it smacked them in the face — they had been too busy running from it all —, but nothing could have prepared them for this. Having exposed the darkest, dirtiest, most shameful parts of themself, the parts that not even they had wanted to admit there, here she is, not just putting up with it, but loving them with all of their parts in consideration. Taking in a deep inhale, their breath catches at the peak, leaving Riley choked up and teary eyed. Remaining quiet, their hand reaches out to take hers. Riley struggles to find words for what to say until at last they break their silence by beginning with, “I wish I was better with my words, but, Layla Broderick, I have never felt so seen or loved by another person. You have brought a spark of life and excitement into my life that I didn’t even know I was missing. I spent so much time... way too much if I’m being honest... searching for the next great thrill or adventure to try and give my life meaning, and then you just walked into my life with your perfectly made iced coffee and desire to see me hop around like an injured kangaroo, and every day with you that followed — every second of falling more in love with you and being loved by you — filled my life with more magic and adventure than I could’ve ever dreamed of, and I cannot wait for so many more magical days with you by my side. Loving you has been the greatest adventure that I could ever hope for.” 

A few tears escape, leaving Riley giggling momentarily and wiping them away before continuing, “And while we continue on together, I do want you to know how much I appreciate your support and patience with me. I know I don’t always make it easy, but I promise that I will never stop loving you and working on myself to be better for you, for me, for us. When I get back to L.A., that will be my top priority... finding someone to talk to because I’m in this for the long haul, and I know life isn’t easy, and we’ll have more things thrown our way, but I’ll be ready for them, and I’ll be right by your side the whole way.”

Layla smiles softly when Riley tells her that they’ve been seeing a therapist. She would never be so petty as to wish the worst on them. Even now, after all the work she tried to overcome their breakup, and the setbacks and bumps she had to hit along the way to do so, all she wanted for them was to be happy and at peace with everything they went through. “That’s really great to hear Riley, I’m happy for you,” she tells them sincerely. There’s a sting to her chest when they confess it would be her they’d want to talk to. She doesn’t assume they’re lying, but given how they didn’t really talk to her about it when they were together she isn’t sure how to feel about that. She mirrors them and sits up, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She’s thinking of what to say, but her thoughts are interrupted when Riley keeps talking. What she didn’t expect right now, or ever really since it’s been ten years so the likelihood of ever receiving it had long seemed nonexistent, was Riley’s sudden apology.

While the closet is dark and she can barely see Riley from the light emitting from underneath the closet door, the hurt and regret behind Riley’s words are evident. She’s stunned as she absorbs their words, so much so that she’s physically frozen in place like a statue, eyes wide. She never expected an apology from them. She didn’t want one, necessarily. Once upon a time she just wanted them back. And that would’ve been enough. But now, ten years later, she isn’t sure if that’s enough. She isn’t sure what is enough. She hasn’t known anything since Riley came back into her life. There’s the young hopelessly-in-love high schooler in her that would’ve done anything to be with them again, then there’s the heartbroken and angry young adult who struggled to deal with the pain Riley’s departure left behind, and finally, there’s her now, in her late twenties, having learned to live a life without them. All three sides of her have clashed nonstop the moment Riley stepped into her office over a week ago, and the conflict is worsening now. She’s already been caught off-guard, but the mention of Grandma Ellie is what finally causes her to break. Silently, a flood of tears pour down her cheeks. It’s all too much, and Layla’s spent so long keeping to herself all this pain. Not just with Grandma Ellie, but the fallout with her parents, and of course with everything she feels towards Riley. She hasn’t moved on from anything. Not a damn thing, and that’s clear to her now.

Once Riley finishes, she’s silent for a moment. A long moment. It feels like years pass before she finds the words to speak. The silence is broken first by her sniffling, before she wipes her eyes. She feels embarrassed at first, though she knows she shouldn’t be. But honestly she hadn’t wanted this to happen. To cry in front of Riley. To cry because of Riley. She had done that so many times that she had sworn to herself she’d never do it again. But that was when she accepted that she and Riley would probably never speak to each other again. Years had passed after all, and from the outside it looked like Riley had moved on with their life. How couldn’t she think that? There had been nothing but radio silence from them the moment they left Mystic. Riley has brought some clarity for their choice in that now, but it doesn’t change the fact that Layla had believed they no longer wanted anything to do with her. 

“Thank you for your apology,” she starts, the shakiness in her tone betraying her attempt to sound calm about this. She sniffles again and brings her knees closer to her chest as if protecting herself. Futile now, since the damage has been done and she’s crumbling from the inside. She’s angry with herself that she’s allowed this to happen after all the hard work she’s done. To no longer be that sad little girl crying like a baby over her first breakup. “I was… sad, really sad, for a long time after you left. I’m not saying that to make you feel bad, it’s just… it took me a long time to accept we were over. And I spent a long time trying to understand what I did wrong, or what I could’ve done differently to make you no longer feel so… suffocated. Because all I wanted you to do was talk to me, because you were obviously hurting and I just wanted to help you not hurt anymore…” She pauses once she realizes more tears are coming down, and she wipes them away. “I know you just explained why you never reached out, but I couldn’t have known that was why. From my point of view, you left and never looked back. So, with the whole Grandma Ellie thing, you don’t… need to apologize for that. At that point I never expected you to reach out, and I can’t be mad at you for something I wasn’t expecting in the first place. I was too busy dealing with other stuff to even think about that.” There’s some unintended bluntness to her words, but it’s true. She had already moved past the possibility of ever hearing from Riley again. 

“Point is…” Is there even a point? She’s only been been spewing unorganized thoughts. “… a lot’s changed in ten years. We’ve been living our own separate lives. And… in those ten years I’ve already forgiven you. Because I don’t blame you for how you dealt with things after the fire. We were just kids, you know? We weren’t equipped to know how to deal with something so horrible perfectly. I just wish…” She wishes things between them had never ended. She wishes the fire had never happened. She wishes they never had to have this conversation because they’ve instead spent the last ten years happily together, thriving in Hollywood together like they used to talk about. “… things had ended differently, if they had to end. We were best friends first, and I didn’t want you out of my life like that. That was the hardest to get over. Not that we weren’t a couple anymore, but that we weren’t… anything, anymore. But… if that’s what had to happen in order for you to seek out someone to talk to and get the proper help you needed to deal with everything then…” She trails off with a small shrug. “I don’t hate you Riley. I never have. Not for a second. Having you back in my life’s been… a lot… and I’m not gonna pretend I know what I’m doing with trying to make this work, but I really do want to make this work. Because like I said, we were best friends first and having you around’s reminded me that I really missed you, and it just… doesn’t feel right to not have you in my life.”

—

Once they realize she’s crying, their body goes rigid. Riley isn’t quite sure what they expected her response to be or even what they wanted her response to be. Yelling at them would’ve been better than this, kicking them out, telling them to leave her alone... but crying? They have to wonder now, how much pain can a person bring another and still claim they love them? Was this what they were now: the person that digs the knife even deeper into old wounds? And then they’re left to ask, did it make it better or worse that all the while they thought they were tending to them, maybe even fixing them? 

Before Riley can stop to think about what they’re doing, they move closer to her so that now, instead of facing her, they’re by her side with one arm wrapped over her back. It’s muscle memory that Riley’s body hasn’t seemed to shake despite all these years. Sure, they’ve comforted others when they’re down, but it’s never this innate nor this natural. Fingers splay out as their hand gently rubs her back, only pausing slightly when she repeats the phrase they had thrown at her right before walking away... suffocated. Ten years ago, that was exactly how they felt, not by her but by everyone and everything else. And when it all came down to it, Riley knew that wouldn’t have been healthy either — leaving her to tend to the weight of their grief and trauma all by herself — but that recognition alone, of how to voice precisely what they were going through, might have saved their relationship or at least some of Layla’s heartbreak. 

It isn’t until she adds on ‘if it had to end’ that Riley recognizes just how emotionally on edge they truly are. Stomach clenching tighter than it has this entire evening, tears start flowing . With their free hand, they furiously wipe away the tears as they continue to remain quiet and try to focus on what she’s saying. It all could’ve been a massive misunderstanding. She could just mean if they had to end in that moment. Surely there’s no way that she could seriously still have feelings for them or wish that they had been together this entire time, as a couple. Yet, when she finishes talking, they find themself speaking without thinking through their words first, “I wish I’d been strong enough to ask for help... that it hadn’t—” Their final statement, that it hadn’t ended at all, gets caught in their throat, and their eyes drift away. Eyes come to a close, burning behind their eyelids as they force their tears to stop closing, biting into their lip to help avert the pain to a different portion of their body.

After composing themself once more, their eyes open and turn back to her before continuing, “That was without a doubt the hardest thing that I’ve ever done.... walking away, while still wanting to be with you, while still completely in love with you.” Their stomach twists again, throat going dry, but still Riley pushes on, not wanting to linger too long, “I just really hope you know that it’s nothing that you did. There’s nothing that you could’ve done. You’re such a good person, always have been... Us ending, that was on me... completely, and I’ve paid for it. Like you said, we were best friends first, and if I’m being completely honest, Layla, as hard as I tried to replace you and fill in the gap that I made, I’ve never even come close. Don’t get me wrong... I love my friends, and they’re amazing and beautiful individuals that I love and treasure with all my heart, but you just...” They go quiet, catching themself before they push it too far again, bring things back into the realm of telling her just how they feel... how they’ve always felt. She had always seen something in them that no one else had, loved them in the way that they needed without them ever having to articulate it. 

“ — anyways, what I’m trying to say is, it’s the worst mistake I’ve ever made. I might’ve been really drunk, but I meant what I said you know... that I’d always choose you? I’m not ever letting you go again, and I know that I can’t make up for the years I missed, but... I know that I really want to get to know you again, and for you to get to know me again. I know that I won’t be sleeping much tonight anyways, so if it’s not too much, maybe I could come help clean up your place from the storm and we could just, you know talk? Really talk? Whether it’s about your life now or if you want to talk about everything you’ve gone through in the past... I’m here for you, and I want to know about it.” They go quiet for a moment, their hand finally drawing to a standstill on her back, “The time apart... it — I could find ways to distract myself from it... but it never went away.. silly or pathetic as it sounds, whenever I’d see a stupid Carrell movie or ring pops at convenience stores... I miss you. I miss my best friend.” And in that moment they knew that it was true, that they would put themself through this emotional wasteland and heartbreak again and again, every day, knowing that they will never be able to be with her like that again, just so long as they can still have her by their side in some capacity. Riley would always choose Layla, in any capacity, no matter what.

Normally Layla would take this moment to tease them about being hard-headed enough to easily deflect any falling debris, but with Riley clearly trying to call themself down, she holds back the remark. She doesn’t try to push them away, or shift herself to get more comfortable. It’s as if subconsciously she knows what this is about before Riley explains out loud. She still doesn’t move when Riley shuffles off of her and explains. The fire, of course. How could she ever forget? The night Riley lost their friends. That horrible night that, at the core, had been the one thing that ultimately ruined their relationship. Rotted it slowly and painfully from the inside out. She isn’t mad the night is brought up – how can she be, when Riley’s currently reliving something so awful? It hadn’t been Riley’s fault the fire happened, or that their friends died. And though it took her a long time to accept this, she doesn’t fully blame Riley for how they handled the aftermath, either. She only regrets that they ended things the way they did. That she didn’t do enough to make them want to stay. And there is certainly some underlying resentment she feels for the lack of closure, but she doesn’t hate Riley. If she hated them, she wouldn’t be trying… this. This whole attempt at friendship. 

Honestly, though, she is rather surprised they’re talking about this to her. She’s conscious not to try and change the subject in any way, allowing them the space they need to vent to her. Like she’s sixteen again, eager to do whatever she can to comfort them. Her head turns towards them. A warmth in her stomach grows as they grab her hand, and rather than fight it she simply leaves their hands as they are. She takes their apology as only relating to what happened a few seconds prior. She wouldn’t dare indulge herself by assuming they mean anything else. “You’re pretty light, so, don’t worry about itl,” she replies with a small smile, before her eyes turn toward the ground. This is so much different than ten years ago, where Layla felt like she could do or say anything with them, even with this. But there are boundaries she’s still trying to draw, and with Riley it’s just so damn hard when there’s so much history between them. What part of this would be her talking to them as a friend? And which part would be her talking to them as someone who still loves them? Is it even possible to be both?

“I’m never going to completely understand what it’s like losing people you care about in that way,” she begins softly, keeping her eyes on the ground. “But I can understand, at least, why this storm would remind you of it. I mean, a storm like this in southern California? This global warming is getting out of hand.” She tries to lighten the mood for a moment, before getting serious again. “Something horrible like that never really goes away. No matter how much you work through it. Which, if you have been doing that, that’s really great…” She genuinely hopes they sought out help eventually, and found some peace over the years. To her, that’s above anything related to the two of them. “But for moments like right now, where you feel like it’s happening again… you can always talk to me about it. If you want.” She squeezes their hand with reassurance. “Or if you don’t want to, that’s okay too. But if not me, you should talk to someone. It’s not… good to hold that in.” She bites down on her lip, holding back a sudden surge of emotion that can only be resulted from jumping back ten years, to a time when a younger, more naïve version of herself tried everything in her power to comfort them. To heal their pain. It almost feels like a joke the universe made up, that they’re now lying in a small closet talking about this. She clears her throat, wanting to clear away some of that emotion so it doesn’t dare seep into her voice as she continues to talk. “We can stay in here as long as you want. Though I’m mainly saying that because I do not want to see the damage this storm’s doing to my house right now,” she quips.

—

They wish they could just ask her, ‘Where do I put this, all of this love that I have for you?’ Because they can’t seem to find a place to hold it, and it’s taken over. They can feel it in their subconscious, when it comes out at night and taunts them with dreams of what could have been and what was. Dreams that depict childhood ring pops presented as promise rings, laughing in the kitchen beneath clouds of flour, teary eyed kisses after award nominations and wins, and withered and wrinkled hands holding onto each other on a porch-swing at sunset. 

But maybe that was it... Would it be better to try to hold it all in their hands? The same hands that tremble when thinking of her but she’s not around, and then reverberate when she’s near, wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch and hold, to fill the in the dents and crevices that she left in them. The ones that they tried to fill with so many others that never truly fit. The same hands that would wipe away her tears, hold her in their sleep, and clasp her own while walking down the street. Hands that have not seemed to work right ever since they stopped being the hands that she could hold.

Or maybe it would be better to hold it all in their eyes... the same eyes that can’t seem to look at her, for too long because looking at her always leads to eyes drifting down to lips and their body leaning in. The eyes that despite all of this also can’t seem to keep away from her, finding her in every room they share, searching for her while walking down the street when nearby where they work or live, hoping to catch a glimpse, to have yet a little bit more time. But those eyes are tired, they’re already so heavy from tears stinging them every time they think too much about what they lost when they walked away.

And they certainly can’t hold it in their mouth: the same mouth that pressed kisses to her skin as if she were something holy, the same mouth that hasn’t shut up about her since they met all those years ago as kids, the same mouth that chooses biting down and tasting blood than giving in to their temptation to ruin this all. What then would they do when the words finally slip out in front of her that they repeat over and over to themself when they’re alone or in the company of their therapist? How could they expect her to stay when they admit that even though they’re trying to be friends, they’re failing, that they don’t think they’re strong enough to do this.

“I am seeing someone, a therapist,” their eyes move in her direction. Too much of it now is being held in their chest — squeezing and tightening — they need a bit of release, so their eyes, their eyes will do for now. “I have been ever since I got to Atlanta, and it’s helped.. a lot. I’ve worked through so much of all of that shit, and I’m better... really, but thank you for your offer. I’ll be honest, if there was anyone that I’d want to talk to about this, it’d be you, but that’s not fair to you.” It’s too much. Their eyes begin welling up and a gentle clenching in the back of their throat threatens to send them into a coughing spell. They sit up straight now, hoping the repositioning will offer them some form of release, anywhere really. “You’ve always been so good, to everyone.... to me, even when I don’t deserve it, even now. You know, in therapy I’ve learned so much and I’ve been able to forgive myself for so many things from my past that I hung onto and blamed myself for. The death of my friends, not being there for them, the toxic behavior that followed with everything that my parents were saying, but the thing I haven’t let go yet... that I haven’t forgiven myself for is what I did to you. I just got so fucking scared as this kid... I knew that I was drowning underneath all of this shit, and there was you who loved me —the most beautiful person that I’ve ever known in every sense of the word — and I could see it then... so clearly, how I wasn’t strong enough. I was going to drown, and I didn’t want to pull you down with me, and so.... I ran, and I fucked everything up, and I hurt the one and only person in my life that I’ve loved because I was too scared to talk to you and let you know what I was going through and bring you down with me as a result. I’m sorry. I wish I could say something to take away everything that I did and all the pain I put you through...” they pause momentarily, choking up for a moment before continuing on, “... but the thing I’m most sorry for is that I wasn’t there for you when your grandma passed away. I was too hung up on the fact that things might be weird or I might embarrass you that I didn’t even call or text. I know how much she loved you, and you love her, and I just.... did nothing because I’m a fucking coward. There’s no excuse. I should’ve been there. I should’ve been there for you, and not just because it would’ve been the right thing to do or the polite thing to do but because that’s what you do for the people you —” an exhale releases, “—care about. You’re there for them, no matter what. You hold their hand and you lift them up, and you’re there. Like you always have been for me.”

It happened rarely these days, but as Layla finished up sending some emails for the night, it had hit her – inspiration. Not for any of her upcoming projects, but out of nowhere she randomly got the idea for a scene for that zombie apocalypse film she had barely touched, and she wasted no time opening up the file of her sad, little draft to type away. For once, it was only her and the words her fingers produced and for a while time didn’t exist. She had become so lost in her work, that she hadn’t noticed worsening storm outside of her window. Not until something had hit her window with a loud bang, breaking her concentration as she jumped in her seat. First she had seen the large crack the random object had caused, then looking behind the crack, she realized that it looked pretty nasty outside. She hadn’t seen a storm this bad in all her years living in L.A. And soon enough, Nora was calling her on her phone. Her sister went all mother-mode on her, asking where she was and commanding her to get somewhere safe. And she wasn’t too happy to hear that Layla was still at the studio.

“I’m going to be fine, Nora,” she sighs as she stuffs her laptop into her bag and leaves the office. “I’ll just hang around one of the sets until the storm passes and then I’ll head home. I’ll text you, okay? Love you.” She’s trying not to panic, but honestly she’s panicking a little since she’s sure there almost no one at the studio right now and she’s going to have to fend for herself. So she walks with a bit of urgency and debates which would be a better hiding place – one of the sets or a dressing room. Maybe the lounge? No, there’s windows in there she thinks… her thinking is interrupted by the sudden appearance of Riley. She doesn’t even have time to be relieved she isn’t alone, because Riley is immediately pulling her towards a closet. “Wh–…. Ri–” Is the storm worse than she thought? Because Riley’s acting like the world is about to end. She doesn’t protest and goes into the closet as instructed, but her ex doesn’t stop there. A confused expression forms on her face as Riley informs her they are going going to cover her. “O…kay?” Eyes widen as they quite literally cover her, and it takes her a moment to realize that their ex, who again she’s still very much in love with, is now physically on her. She’s not sure if she should be laughing. She’s a little too focused on their bodies currently touching. This is probably the wrong thing to hone in on, she thinks.

She feels her heart racing and prays they can’t feel it. “Um… Riley…” Her eyes dart around the dark closet while she struggles to adjust to… this. She hasn’t moved an inch. If her heart wasn’t racing, she would have thought she died somehow with how limp she lies underneath them. “I appreciate the extra protection. Really, I do. But I think if a storm came in here it would probably still blow us both away.” It’s meant to come off as a dry remark, in an attempt to break the tension and distract herself from how hard she’s blushing right now. She finds something to focus on that isn’t their current closeness, and that’s the terrified expression on their face she noticed before she was pulled into this dark closet, and their heavy, ragged breathing. This isn’t the time to make jokes, she realizes too late. They act like they’d seen a ghost. A really scary ghost. “Are you okay?” she asks softy, head slightly turning in their direction.

Logic went out the window the moment the tree and harsh wind bursted it open. Years after the fire and the trauma that came from it, Riley had been through hours upon hours of therapy working through all that it had shifted within themself. Nightmares became less common, their guilt over the loss of their friends is nearly distinguished, and they have begun to finally heal. But healing is not some linear line, and Riley had yet to experience something that paralleled that night as clearly as this storm. Even now, with her clearly in their arms, protected by their body in case something tumbled down on top of them, Riley could remember the exact moment the news broke the the fire and the moments of pure panic when her status and location were unknown. 

“Your head,” they mutter, trying to get themself to calm down, breathe. “If something falls, my head will take it,” they add on, blinking hard and fast as their chest rises and falls against her back. Fingers flex and fan outwards until they finger hers and quickly take hold. The adrenaline spike from the onset of the storm decreases slowly, allowing them a moment to relax ever so slightly, just enough to truly register her question and consider their answer. Were they okay? Lips open only to close once more, Riley finds themself stuck without words to describe what they are. Instead, they resort to shuffling off of her, so they’re instead lying next to her. “I’m sorry for squishing you—” the apology catches in their throat, starting a burning sensation in the stomach as they add on, “—it um... the fire. It reminded me of the fire, and when I saw you in the hallway —” Their head turns slightly, eyes widening as they’re just now registering the proximity of their body to hers. “—I was brought back to that night and the day after... hearing about them, waiting to hear who was safe, hearing who else well...” 

Knowing full well that there are rules — rules they set both for themself and those set by the general public on exes — Riley abandons them for a moment as their nearest hand reaches out to take hers again. Eyes turn away towards the ground. A neutral position with their anchor in one hand to keep them here, grounded. The memories of the fire, their apology, and their current position ring within their body, reminding them of the apologies they have yet to make, those that no amount of therapy or self-reflection have allowed them to let go of. What though, after all these years, would an apology — in a cramped closet in the middle of a storm — do to ever make up for what they have done to her? Eyes flicker back over to her. “I’m sorry if I hurt you,” they add after a moment, in an attempt to rectify any discomfort they caused from their body being on top of hers, but it’s clear their true feelings seep through ( the one’s carrying ten years of guilt ), making the apology vague. 

Layla finds Riley so beautiful. Not only physically – thought that is very much true. But in the way they see things about the world. The way they see her, in a way she didn’t think anyone could ever see. She’s not sure if she’ll ever see herself the way they do, but it’s enough for her that they see her that way. More than enough, really. Like something out of a dream. It’s true, she’s liked them since high school. It was a crush that had laid dormant for a while, but always present. Such a high school crush has grown these past few months, though. She can’t label it as a crush anymore. It’s too small a description. It’s deeper now. What was once a tiny little flame that flickered in her chest has expanded into a full four-alarm fire. A fire fed by every kiss, every sweet gesture, hell every time Riley crossed her mind, which was basically every single second of every day. 

Her nose scrunches up at their initial reaction to her confession, before she lets out a hearty laugh at their next remark about it being gay as fuck. The laugh is cut short by a greatly appreciated kiss. When they pull away, their lips leave behind another dopey grin on her face. Her face softens as Riley expresses regret at not knowing and their insecurity. While part of her would like to know what would have happened if they had been like this sooner, she’s content with them having happened at all. She gives a small shrug. “That’s okay. What matters is that we’re here now, right?” Her eyes glance down at their lips before returning to their eyes. “You’re pretty easy to like. I don’t think my crush ever really had an expiration date. Like there were those few years you went away college, and really it seemed like you were never gonna come back, but then you did come back and I was the bumbling sixteen-year-old again like you never left,” she chuckles. “I don’t know, I’m a little iffy on the whole fate thing but it kinda feels like the universe was sitting back and waiting until we were both ready?” 

She’s back to blushing when Riley positions themself onto her lap. Her little gay brain is going haywire once again, as she’s trying to process they’re currently on top of her in their underwear. She’s not uncomfortable, rather she’s taking a moment to process feeling more skin than she’s used to. She surprises herself when her hands actually place themselves on Riley’s waist. Her mouth opens to say something to their question, but she instead laughs along with them. “I can say the same about you,” she responds when they express feeling lucky to have her. With how this year had been earlier for her, she couldn’t have asked for a better way to end it. Never in her life has she felt so lucky. As they kiss, this time with Riley in her lap she’s feeling that all-too-familiar ache between her thighs. Man, they’re really going to be the death of her. It doesn’t subside when they pull away, but their confession that they’ll miss her does distract her from it for a moment. Her heart flutters, feeling like she’s entering a dream world again because she still cannot believe someone else could feel this way about her. She can’t believe she could feel this way about someone else. Though there’s no label to it, in this precise moment while Riley speaks, Layla just feels – no, she knows – there isn’t another person out there for her. It’s so much more than simply “liking” Riley. It’s something so much deeper, and she knows it’ll only make their departure hurt even more. But she doesn’t want to think about that right now. 

“I’m going to miss you too, Riley. But I’ll be right here waiting for you,” she promises with a soft smile. “With my track record I’d probably wait for you forever if I had to. I think I inherited Grandma Ellie’s patience.” It’s said lightheartedly, but with how she’s feeling about them lately, she does feel like she could wait forever. There simply isn’t anyone else for her. She laughs  when they said they’re a simp for her. Riley has a knack of making even the silliest things sound romantic. One of the many, endless things she loved liked about them. “No, that isn’t weird. That’s… really cute, actually. No one’s ever said they simp for me before.” She’s never felt so much about on person in her entire life. There are moments like now where she feels so much she feels like she could combust into flames. Why are they so damn cute? “The simping is definitely mutual.”

“I have an idea,” she starts, hazel eyes slowly traveling from Riley’s eyes to the rest of their form. She’s consumed by emotion right now, and also a little turned on by their current position. While she’s not exactly ready yet for third base – or is it home run? She doesn’t know anything about baseball – she’s fairly certain she’s ready for whatever base includes getting super touchy with your friend-you’re-more-than-friends-with in a hot tub when you’re both in your underwear. She looks back up at them with a small smile. “Let’s… just focus as much as we can on making this weekend as wonderful as possible. To make up for the weekends we won’t have for a while.” Not having a flirty bone in one’s body meant not knowing a “sexy” way of initiating what she wants to initiate, so she literally just says out loud what she wants to do. “I’m, um… gonna start kissing you now with the intention to fully make-out in this hot tub. If that’s cool.” Maybe one day she’ll work on that. Today will obviously not be that day. As she presses her lips against theirs in a deep kiss, she wraps her arms around their waist to pull them closer. With how perfect the night has been, it’s only fitting that this is how they should close it out.

It was such a simple sentiment — the fact that she too would miss them — and yet, it elicits a form of bashfulness from Riley that they haven’t yet been acquainted with.... at least, that’s the only thing that they can really label this. Their eyes flicker between her and the space just beyond her shoulder, overcome with too much to be able to focus on her without the fear of doing something embarrassing ( like exposing themself and what they were really just about to say ). Everything is turned upside down and on its head when she uses the word forever. Their prior hesitations to holding her gaze are forgotten. If her statement, that she would potentially wait forever for them, had been shared months prior, they may have shut down, run even. But this was their new normal: a normal that was crafted by Layla’s consistency in her loyalty, patience, deep thoughtfulness, and care. It’s a normal that has led to impatience when watching the hours tick down at work knowing that they have plans to see her when they get off. It’s a normal that leaves them dreaming of flashes of a shared, warm home with two people curled up together on a couch — the flash of two rings — rather than the old norm where they would dream of only flashes of naked bodies, sexual fantasies, and no strings. Despite their overwhelming fear of the unknown with commitment and relationships — the path they know that they’re on with Layla —, because it’s a walk that they’re taking with her, Riley feels safe. 

“You’d probably wait forever?” Though their question comes off as slightly offended, the playful sparkle in their eye and upwards curve of their lips tells her they’re anything but. Their thumbs gently stroke the curvature of her jaw as they eye her. The idea of a forever was such a foreign concept to Riley. They have always believed they are living on borrowed time. It was the kind of mentality that led to their decisions to follow impulse rather than structure, choose a fun night in a dark room with a near stranger rather than pursuing and seeking out a deeper connection, and plan for the moment rather than the long term. Forever was a term that was reserved for fairytales, not for the life and times of Riley Lorde Jackson, but Layla had begun the forming of a new story, one that included the both of them, together. Although the future ahead for them is blurry, it still remains. It’s there as a promise for something brighter for them both if Riley is only brave enough to take that risk when the time comes. “My life has been insurmountably better with you in it, like this, so I may not know how much time I have left you know.... here,” they gesture vaguely, not knowing themself whether they were speaking about this trip, Mystic, or even in this life, but knowing it was the same statement for all of them regardless, “— but I know that I want to spend as much time that I have with you by my side.” Riley rises up just enough to uncurl their legs from behind them and instead have them wrapped around her, so they are now fully in her lap. Eyes squint playfully, and the gentle grazing of fingers upon her jaws and cheek subside as they add, “—So are you sure you want to deal with my simping for that long? Because I’m letting you know right now, it’s not going away, and it’s definitely not decreasing, but on the flip side, I also can’t promise you that it won’t increase... The rate we’re at, you’re going to have me in the running for Number One Whipped Simp of the Year, and I’m not complaining.” 

Despite their commitment to not push things too far sexually with her, Riley hasn’t completely turned off it off either. They notice almost immediately when her eyes drift from there’s to the rest of their body. Any level of playfulness that had been in the air with them dissipates as they watch and listen. Though Layla’s take on how to initiate any sort of make out is a bit unique, Riley also greatly appreciates it. It gives them the exact information that they need to give her what she wants... not too much and not too little either. Their pupils dilate and brown irises darken as its now their turn to look over her form, taking in the closeness of their bodies and the points of contact where skin presses into skin. As their eyes find their way back up to hers, Riley nods and offers her a smile, dripping with the desire to close the spaces that exist between them, “I’d like that.”

Layla playfully shrugs and laughs. “You’re more of an outdoorsy person than me! Maybe not star-gazing but the skateboarding stuff counts as ‘outdoorsy’. And I love the stars… I just love my TV screen more. Interstellar was great,” she quips. Though Riley does have a bit of a point, nature was never Layla’s “thing”. Such was the life of someone who practically grew up in front of a television. She can’t help the dopey smile on her face from hearing Riley refer to it as “our” song. How often did she ever have a “song” with someone? Never, until now. “You’re right, I need to work on the ‘space’ part. In my defense, though, I think we’re doing really good on the ‘time’ bit to make up for it,” she points out, still with the dopey smile on her face. Sometimes it felt as if they had all the time in the world, like right now. Realistically they don’t, but she loves whatever amount of time they get to spend together. And they’ve been spending a lot of time together. 

A warmth in her stomach matches the warmth on her cheeks as they protest her remark about being awkward. What she would give to be able to see what they see about her. “Are you… serious?” she asks, an incredulous laugh unexpectedly leaving her lips. “I mean, I won’t fight you on the other stuff because… well, thank you.” She lightly nudges them with a soft smile. “But you seriously don’t think I’m even a little awkward? It took me, like, the majority of the time we’ve known each other for me to be able to talk to you like a normal person. Because you were – well, you are this effortlessly cool, gorgeous, captivating person and that… I don’t know, made my brain go a little haywire? It still does, kinda,” she admits. She studies their face for a moment, as if trying to figure out what makes their eyeballs different from hers. She of course doesn’t doubt they’re being sincere. She just… can’t see it for herself. But she must’ve done something right if she’s sitting here with them, right? “It… means a lot, for you to see me that way. I try sometimes to see it too, but…” She simply shrugs as she trails off. She instead ends her thought with a dry joke. “… I wear contacts, so it’s kinda obvious I have poor vision.”

She blinks in confusion when they announce they have something to tell her. Her head tilts slightly with curiosity as she listens to them. She initially confused about why they’re mentioning past hookups and seeing other people before. It becomes clearer as they explain, and they confess they haven’t been seeing anyone during their… whatever this is. Her mind had never went there since their first kiss, even with Riley’s dating history they mention, and she isn’t sure how she would’ve felt if they had been seeing other people. The hypotheticals no longer matter anyway, since they are seeing only her. The thought of it makes her heart flutter. Her mouth curves upward in amusement in their endearing remark that it was okay if she was seeing other people – should she be flattered they think she could possibly win over Riley and another living, breathing human at the same time? That doesn’t really matter, because she isn’t interested in anyone else. How could she be, when Riley Jackson was right in front of her, in a hot tub, telling her they liked her? This is more than anything she could have ever asked for. But then their actual news comes along, and Layla’s smile falters. She holds back an “oh”, to give them a chance to finish speaking. It’s not permanent, they say, and this is an opportunity she knows they have to take. The chance to work in Los Angeles? That’s a huge step for them, and of course she’s happy for them. She can admit to herself she’s sad that their time together is about to temporarily be cut short, but if it’s one thing Layla has mastered in her twenty-five years of living, it’s patience. And if Riley wants to keeping seeing her, and she wants to keep seeing them, then what’s the issue?

“Riley…” There’s a lot to be said here, but she wants to first focus on the main reason they’re leaving. “Putting us to the side for a second, this is such a big move for you!” She beams, because she’s overjoyed for them despite the pending distance that will be between them. “L.A. sounds so exciting, and I’m really happy for you’ve been given such an opportunity. I mean seriously, first this, then next thing you know you’re gonna be composing with, I don’t know, Trent Reznor or Hans Zimmer or something!” She lets her burst of joy pass before her features soften. This changes nothing about what she feels for them, this she knows is fact. She has no clue how much she’s about to miss them, but she knows she can wait however months they’ll be away. “As for us…” She squeezes their hand under the water. “I’m not seeing anyone else. That’s cute of you to think I have the ‘swagger’ to even accomplish that,” she jokes. “And I definitely don’t like anyone else the way I like you. I’ve never liked anyone as much as I like you, as a matter of fact.” She takes their hand out of the water to place a soft kiss against their knuckles, before looking up at them again. “I’ve had a crush on you since high school,” she confesses. “And I’m going to be twenty-six soon, so that’s… what, almost ten years? Ten years for the chance to sit in a hot tub, looking at the stars with you on a romantic getaway. I think I can wait a few months.” She offers a small smile before she leans in to give them a brief, soft kiss on the lips. She pulls away and looks at them. “I fully support your decision, and I want to keep us as we are now. I don’t want anyone else but you. I figured calling you my roo kinda implied that.” Maybe the term is starting to sound less cringey to her now.

In a perfect world, Riley would be able to articulate their thoughts and emotions both to her and themself. The connections between the preemptive aching in their chest — knowing that soon they will have to leave her —, the urge to be with her every waking moment or texting and talking with her on the phone when they couldn’t be, and the current euphoria and sense of safety they feel when in her presence might then be drawn, and the realization that they are falling for her hard and fast might be made. But this was not a perfect world, and Riley is cursed to be tragically unable to make peace with their emotions and just allow themself to feel and love — freely, recklessly — in the way they aspire to live their life. 

Fingers draw up to the top of her back, aimlessly drawing foreign lines and forms into her skin. A small, warm smile plays on their lips, making no changes when she mentions trying to see herself the way they see her nor her small joke. Riley’s gaze holds hers, studying her face momentarily before lips draw up to her forehead, lips fluttering to a close until they at least pull away once more. “In that case...” they begin, their voice soft but firm in its conviction, “...I’ll see you for the both of us, as long as it takes, throughout any moments of your brain going haywire or having clarity, and then whenever you get there — to that moment of seeing yourself that way I do — we can both bask in your beauty together, alright?” 

With anyone else, Riley may have taken the bait and relished in the opportunity to make some joke about themself or a moment shared between the two. There was more than enough content between their moment of being completely ( and very shamefully ) turned on by her making cookies to their decision that it was better to make her personalized CDs than outwardly express their interest in her. However, as comforting as a lighthearted joke is for them, comfort is not what they need in this moment. What they need is for her to hear, while only a portion of the expanse of their feelings for her, just how amazing Riley finds her, and in the same vein, how lucky they feel to be with her like this. 

The invisible weight they had been lifting, holding up in an attempt to not be crushed under its relenting size, lifts as Layla expresses her excitement and support for them. Riley knew that her opinion on this would mean a lot to them, but they hadn’t foreseen the level of euphoria that would wash over him at her pride reserved exclusively for them and their accomplishments. “I don’t know about all that, but I’m excited, and I wish I could tell you how much it means to hear you say you’re excited for me too.”

Eyebrows raise in astonishment when she confesses the length of the crush that she’s been harboring for them. An image of a fallen tube of lipstick and steady hands wiping away smudged makeup flashes before them, but Riley says nothing. She surely couldn’t remember that could she? They are surprised they even can with the mental and physical state they were in that evening. Pulling themselves out of their silence, Riley finally teases, “You’re kidding right? High school?” Riley pauses then for good measure, lips pulling upwards into a smirk, “I’m going to be completely honest with you, baby.... That’s gay as fuck.” As their lips press into hers, they soften once more, voice along with them as they add, “I wish I would’ve known... I hate how much time I wasted not being ready, and then being insecure about you liking well... anyways, but I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.” 

Although they’re already grinning ear to ear, the tension in their cheeks grow as their lips threaten the physical barriers set in place to widen their smile even more. They’re already preparing themself for the embaressment that will surely settle in after this is over, but still, they rise up slowing only to settle themself back down in her lap with their legs tucked carefully behind them, facing her. “Mmm, you make a good point, but seeing as there’s no, you know, pouch around for me to sit in, I’m hoping your lap will do?” The utter ridiculousness of the moments threatens to break them down into another fit of laughter, but they manage to calm themself and add, “I really don’t understand how I got so lucky with you,” before their hands carefully comb through her curls and lips press into hers. Deepening this kiss for just a moment, their lips part ever so slightly, and all at once, they remember themself, and that they can’t push this. They can’t scare her.

Withdrawing just enough so that their forehead presses into hers, fingers move from her hair to gently brush over the curvature of her jaw, settling at the point where her jaw meets her neck. “I’m going to miss you so much,” slips from their lips before they can stop, and with their walls now briefly down, they add, “You mean the absolute world to me, Layla Broderick, and I just can’t believe that my best friend is also the woman that I’m —” their breath catches, an invisible defense shooting upwards before they could even know they were at risk of exposing something they hadn’t even realized themself. But it felt so natural. It is so natural, and yet, the moment has passed and so they continue with, “—completely crazy for.” A smile, hesitant but still prominent, cracks across their features, and for a moment, they wonder if she caught their slip: the slight moment between changing one phrase for another. Did she know? Did she feel it too? Was this really what falling in love felt like? Did it really exist for them? “—I feel absolutely ridiculous saying this, but I’m seriously such a simp for you. Is that a weird thing to say? Can you simp for someone you’re currently seeing? Can you even simp for someone once you pass the age of 21?”

The way Riley beams about her plan only causes Layla to fall further in love with them – which, she has to question how that’s even possible at this point. But it’s happening. The idea had already sounded exciting to her before she proposed it, but she’s even more excited now that they’re excited. She places the knife and fork down so she can place her hand against their cheek in an effort to get them to calm down just a tad bit, although she finds their enthusiasm of the idea one of the most adorable things she’s ever seen. “While I would love to go now with you sweetie, I would also love to keep my job so maybe we should give my boss some notice?” she playfully suggests. She leans in to give them a slightly longer kiss than before, then pulls away and smiles. “And truthfully, I suck at math so I already lost count. But I love you too.” She loves this new addition to their conversations – she’s said “I love you” more in the span of twelve hours than she has with anyone else her entire life. And there’s no sign of either of them stopping.

“I would love to meet your friends. And it doesn’t matter much to me what we do, I only care about doing it with you.” She turns back to her pancakes to take a bite. It all sounds lovely – experiencing L.A. with her partner. Experiencing anywhere with them, really. Being with Riley has made her feel braver in a lot of ways lately. “Maybe I can see where you work too? See you in action? So when you’re a famous film score composer someday I can brag about how I saw you working before, like, Steven Spielberg or someone else did.” She was genuinely interested in watching them work. Despite having to be distant for awhile, she made it known that she fully supported this opportunity and the chance to see what they’ve been up to there sounds exciting. “We could even egg Nora’s ex’s house,” she playfully suggests. Well, partially, because it’s no secret she hates him enough to actually commit vandalism for once in her life. “There must be so much to do there. Way more than here, that’s for sure. So I’ll let you be my tour guide. 

Her hand on their cheek and subtle nod to remember to be realistic is the only reminder they need. It’s all unintentional they know, but still, it deflates them ever so slightly. Moving their hands to begin working away at their food after the kiss, Riley simply nods and smiles as she lists off ideas for the two of them. A warm smile crosses their lips when she brings up seeing them in action, being able to brag about knowing them some day in the future. Left conflicted over the compliment and the underlying scenarios that such a statement brings up, Riley laughs softly before taking another bite out of their scramble. ( Does she mean she’d be bragging about seeing them in their early days or simply that she can for see a future where they’re apart and she can brag that she knew them during the early days? ) It’s ridiculous they know. She’s their girlfriend. She just told them that she loves them. She was the one to bring up visiting them for Valentine’s Day. Yet, here they were anyways, with everything that had transpired last night still lingering in the back of their mind.

“We can do all of that. As long as my girl’s happy, I’m happy.” Their free hand moves down to gently rest on her thigh, giving it the smallest of squeezes. “What are you thinking of for the vibe of the actual day? Because I’d be more than happy to do something big and eventful, but I also don’t want to force you into that if you’re thinking of something more laid back. I really don’t mind in the slightest as long as I’m spending it with you.” Riley takes a moment to look over her with a smile before finally leaning in and giving the side of her neck and jaw a small peck. “You’re really going to have let me know if you want to egg Nora’s ex’s house though. You know me.... I can’t half ass a prank like that. I need time to plan and prepare.”

After their first day on set of getting acclimated, Riley had thrown themself into their work. Days blend into night the more Riley found themself lost in the music and the story behind it. With their large headphones on and soundboard and notebook in front of them, they could lose themselves for hours without a second thought. Despite the fact that they were on the same set as and working for their ex, the music allowed them the escape they desperately needed ever since laying their eyes on her for the first time in ten years and their most recent slip-up at dinner. 

This evening had blessed them with something of a breakthrough, sending them into an even deeper state of concentration that they didn’t realize the storm raging on outside until the window behind them shattered as the storm took down a tree, sending it straight into their room. The moment of disorientation was barely existent as memories of the night of the fire flash through their eyes. Taking no mind to the cuts on their hands from accidentally grabbing glass instead of their phone, they push themself out of their chair and head into the hall to find shelter. Eyes lock onto a storage closet, on the inside portion of the studio, but just as they’re about to start running, they hear commotion in the other direction and turn to find Layla.

Eyes widen, and suddenly, they’re running to her side spewing out, “Are you hurt?” and “Are you okay?”. Hands take hers, and without thinking much, they pull her in the direction of the closet. It isn’t until they’re opening the door for her and instructing her to get inside and cover her head that the humor of the moment catches up to them. However, they’re far too lost in memories of the night of the fire, the current events unfolding around them, and their need to keep her safe to make any joke about being back in the closet with their ex girlfriend. “I’m going to cover you to keep you safe, okay?” they add before pulling the door closed behind them and moving to carefully position themself over her while trying their best to not crush her in the process. In the dark and slightly quieter setting of the closet, they finally take note of their heavy, ragged breathing. Eyes come to a close, and their head unintentionally nuzzles in closer to her as they try to slow their breathing down. “I’ve got you, Layla. I’ve got you.”  // @slayluhh​

Layla’s taken aback by Riley’s reaction to her remark about herself and their taking of her hand. Any reservations she’s had about how much they could’ve changed over the past decade momentarily fade away, as they go off about how amazing she is like they’re sitting in her bedroom again trying to hype her up to finally ask her crush out. Her heart warms, but simultaneously aches, as her body and mind are both once again stuck in two time periods. This is the Riley she fell in love with. This is the Riley she’s still in love with. How easy it is for a few sweet words and alcohol to make her forget when things turned sour. Instinctually, as if working on muscle memory, her hand gently squeezes theirs, though she doesn’t realize she’s doing it. Her brain is going haywire, overwhelmed by their words, their touch, and Layla’s increasingly urge to kiss them. But when they finish, she can only let out a small laugh in response. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you.” She looks away to pinch the bridge of her nose. “It’s… I don’t know. I think I kind of missed you giving me verbal smackdowns, as weird as that sounds,” she confesses. She looks back at them. “Thank you.” 

She swears she’s turned to stone the moment they said “I’ll always choose you”. There, the urge is at its strongest to kiss them. The part of her brain trying to keep her leveled and logical is barely, but still present, crawling out from under all her other desires to tell her there is no way they mean it in the way she thinks it could mean. They mean in terms of projects, of course. How many times is she going to remind herself that any time “always” is applied here, it isn’t actually the case? They’re both here like this, not together, because they didn’t choose her. So stop feeding into whatever fantasy you’re trying to paint here, Layla, the voice tells her. And yet, while this voice is repeatedly yelling at her to get it together, she listens to them answer her question. And all her inebriated brain can think up in response is – “I think you’ll always have people for that.“ It’s vague, even though she considers herself within that group. But if she doesn’t keep it vague she’ll cave right on the spot and never shut up about still being in love with them. “Talent helps but it helps even more when you inspire people to want to give back the love and support you give other people. And you’ve… always had a knack for that.” She’s convinced herself she’s been careful not to confess too much. “And I can, y’know, help wherever I can. I mean that.”

There’s a brief moment of silence where she’s lost in her thought, and she betrays herself but glancing down at their lips. As soon as she does so, however, they’re both interrupted by who she assumes to be one of Riley’s roommates walking in. She offers a friendly smile and a small wave, ignoring the burning sensation all around her face from her almost-slip-up. “Hi, nice to meet you,” she greets, though now her curiosity’s piqued at what Riley could’ve possibly said about her. That curiosity’s immediately killed by the mention of a Jo and some plans Riley apparently had with her. Of course, her first question wants to be “who the hell is Jo?” But that’s really none of her business. Her eyes bounce between the nervous expression on Beck’s face and the shocked one on Riley’s. Is this “Jo” someone they’re… seeing? She holds back a cold laugh, instead forcing a smile and a nod when Riley tells her they’ll be right back. Her eyes follow them until they disappear behind a door, but they stayed glued for a moment as she forgets Beck is sitting right there.

She snaps out of her trance when Beck speaks, and she turns to look at her. What does “those two” mean, exactly? She wants to ask so badly but she again reminds herself it’s none of her business. Of course Riley would be seeing people, did she forget a whole ten years have passed? She’s seen people too. So why does she feel like an idiot right now? “Oh, uh… they came out really good,” she nods, once again forcing a smile. She chooses not to read into Beck’s reveal that Riley did several baking attempts before settling on the batch they gave her. She can stop feeling special now, Riley goes the extra mile for all their friends. That’s how they’ve always been, of course they would make sure their cookies were perfect. Of course they would… have her recipe still lying around somewhere. She’s so frustrated by all this conflicting information and the confusion she’s causing herself that she only wants to sink into the sofa and never resurface. “Yeah, you should give it a try. It’s really just about following what’s on the recipe. You don’t need to be a master baker. I think Riley can attest,” she attempts to joke, though it comes out flatly.

The second the door opens, Layla stands up, albeit a little wobbly from the sudden movement. She’s been here too long, and she’s drunk. She’s been getting increasingly stupid this evening so she decides is best if she heads home. “I should get going, actually,” she tells Riley. “I have an early meeting before we start tomorrow and I… definitely drank too much.” It’s not technically a lie. She does have a morning meeting. And she definitely drank too much. She forces a laugh, but then realizes she drove here. “Which is… definitely dumb on my part since I was supposed to be my own designated driver but uh…” She picks up her phone. “I can just get an Uber and come back for my car tomorrow.”

The look on Beck’s face screams discomfort, but still, she tries to keep herself calm with a smile. Far too sensitive and people pleasing for her own good, Layla’s comments about baking send her smile directly into a frown. She’s left unsure of how to navigate, knowing how much this all meant to Riley and simultaneously getting the impression that even if it’s nothing personal against Beck, Layla is not in the mood for friendly small talk.

Meanwhile in the bedroom, Riley’s left making their best attempt at damage control with Jo while simultaneously trying to expedite the whole thing, so they can get back to Layla. Maybe they were just far too intoxicated with love and liquor for them to make much sense of everything, but they could’ve sworn there was a moment between the two of them... that maybe she too was feeling the way they were ( and always have ). 

After having been told by Jo that they owed her, Riley hangs up and promptly makes their way back out into the living room. Whatever illusion that they had built up in their head prior to talking to Jo was clearly just that: an illusion. Eyes lock onto Layla immediately, eyebrows furrowing as she stumbles slightly. Moving to her to help her out, Riley’s mouth hangs open ready to say something but falls short when they can’t find a reason for her to stay. Not without confessing everything at least. 

Luckily Beck saves the day and offers them a few more moments when she jumps in with, “Oh don’t worry about an Uber. I can drive you. I’m heading into work for the overnight anyways. Let me just grab my stuff!” And with that, she was the one to disappear, leaving the two of them alone once more. 

Knowing that they only have a few moments with her left, Riley finally closes the gap between the two of them, hand reaching out to take her arm gently. “Hey, are you going to be okay? If you don’t think you’ll make it in the car, you can have my bed for the night and borrow some clothes for tomorrow,” comes out, but what they mean to say is that they once again ruined the moment between them, that they’re still in love with her and want to be with her, that Jo is nothing to them, and it’s all just a big misunderstanding if they could explain. But — they’re too scared, too ashamed, and too sure that she could never feel the same for them again that they keep quiet, only allowing Beck to once again come into the room asking if she’s ready to go. “Hey! — Layla, just let me know when you need to be into work tomorrow, and I can pick you up. I could use the extra time working, and I’ll just drive you back to your car after. It’s the least I can do.” Their thoughts, too fuzzy to make much sense of, leads them to pull her into a hug, adding on in a slight whisper so just the two of them can hear, “And I meant what I said... all of it.” Removing themself from her, Riley tries to force a grin onto their face. “Text me when you get home. I had fun, and I’ll see you tomorrow, Lil Broderick.” 

Layla is unable to hold back a sigh of relief as the corset is undone – it truly is a barbaric article of clothing, and like of lot of other societal expectations, Layla disagrees with it. But there’s a limit to how much she can publicly rebel, which has already been made clear by how she acts with Riley behind closed doors. She’s been content these last couple weeks, enjoying Riley’s touch whenever possible, away from wandering eyes. As if she’d been making up for a lifetime of being unable to do so. Goosebumps rise along her arms feeling their lips on the back of her neck. The party’s long forgotten, as is everything else outside her bedroom door. She looks back at them, smiling softly. “I very much doubt they would kill themselves to see the Brodericks’ future spinster daughter,” she jests. “But as usual, you are too kind, my love. The only audience I desire is yours, so if they happen to feel that way, well… I think they’ll manage without me.” She begins to slip off the rest of the gown, until she is left in her chemise. Normally she would be more mindful of how she puts away the pieces to her gowns, but she’s so eager to touch Riley again that she simply tosses everything onto her bed to worry about later on. Her eagerness is disrupted, however, by Riley announcing they should go.

Layla takes a pause, admittedly disappointed to hear this, since they spent most of the day apart with Riley serving the guests and Layla being forced to entertain them. But it also seems strange, because she doesn’t recall Riley ever leaving a party this early. “Oh, of course.” She smiles. “I’m sure we have some leftovers you can give her, so you wouldn’t need to cook anything after spending the whole day cooking. Let me change into my nightgown and I can help you pack some things.” She takes their hand and places a soft kiss on the back. “In just a moment. I was unable to spend Thanksgiving with the only person I wished to spend it with. Allow me only a few minutes to be selfish.” She wraps her arms around their neck and leans in to kiss them deeply. But something feels off, she can sense it almost immediately as soon as their lips touch. She pulls away enough to be able to look down at them.

“Riley…” She frowns, and the expression of joy she had previously is replaced by one of concern. She brings a hand to their cheek and brushes her thumb gently against it. “Are you alright? You don’t seem yourself.” 

Holidays were never a fun time in the Jackson household. Between the overflowing alcohol that only seems to increase in their household around this time, the remind of the fact that their family was not like the other happy families in town, and the mess they’re usually left with after their mother has worked her way through one too many bottles, Riley’s not quite sure how they ever could enjoy them. Working the Broderick family’s parties offered them some relief, but then again, they also realize now that working in silence and without the acknowledgement of their love for Layla was less painful than having the knowledge that the love was mutual but that there was a timer on their love that was getting closer to go off by the second. 

Nodding at her suggestion to take leftovers, they give her a small smile in return but are taken back by her sudden kiss. With their head torn in three different places — one that desperately wants to give in and just be in the moment with her, the other back home trying to mentally prepare for whatever state their mom is in, and the third watching the nice gentleman chat with Layla — their response to her kiss is delayed and lackluster. 

Their guilt is palpable as she pulls away and asks what’s wrong. They can’t lie to her face, but they also don’t want to start any sort of argument. Eyes closing, Riley leans into her chest and lets out a low shaky exhale. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I, my love?” Their arms reach around her waist, pulling her in tighter to them. What were they to say? That they knew this all was just a waiting game until she was forced to marry? That maybe she should take a spouse that her parents both agree with but that is also kind and intelligent over waiting it out and potentially marrying someone cruel? No, they couldn’t do that. “I’m really tired, and I know what’s waiting for me back home.” Pulling away, their eyes find hers once more. “I just think it might be better to deal with her now while I still have a bit of energy left in me than later. You understand right?”