sophie

"I blinked, where are you? Have you become a ghost now?" he asked, angrily looking at the screen and her laughing figure on it.

"I will ghost you if you keep acting like this?"

"You can't ghost me, baby. I live with you, remember that?"

"I will find a way, don't worry," she threatened, smiling sickly at the offended look on his face.

"Mean," he mumbled, his face falling further into the pillow.

"I love you too," she laughed, taking the phone back into our hands to tell him the tragic news she received when looking at the clock. "I need to go now, or else I'll miss my flight."

"Miss it then, I don't care. Just talk a bit longer."

"I will, soon. I promise." Looking at his puppy eyes, she felt a pang of guilt sough through her. It will be worth it though, she reminded herself. "Try blinking a few more times, maybe I'll appear then."

Before she hung up, she watched Tucker furiously blink at the camera, trying to hypnotize her and teleport her over to him.

The flight was good, at least as good as a flight can be. The anticipation and adrenaline at the thought of seeing Tucker again made it more bearable. It made it almost exciting.

Having discussed this with his manager, it was easier to get him to where she wanted. A small cafe she'd been told about by friends, where she was now sat in one of the corners with the sunlight shining down on her. Warming her already hot skin.

A few moments later, Tucker walked in alone. Looking around the room.

They'd planned it all in detail a few weeks beforehand. They would come there together, his manager saying that there was someone for the to meet (a potential sally for the night) and when they'd be in front of it, she'd excuse herself, say someone important just called and leave him to his own devices.

The rest, she could only make it up in her mind.

He'd walk in, confused and tired. Shoulders slumped down, his head hanging low. Looking around the room he'd look for someone he only knew by bare description. Finding her. His eyes lighting up, his feet dashing through the place until he picked her up.

And when he did, wrapping his arms around her waist, his face buried in the crook of her neck, she only then noticed that she missed him more than she admitted before. Cause her heart had never been beating quicker and no amount of reassurance made the emotions in her eyes wash away.

"You're- Are you really here?" Tucker asked, not quite ready to pull away just yet.

"I guess you blinked hard enough," she finally said, pulling away and taking his head in her hands.

Sitting down to eat, she'd already ordered for both of them. The food standing on the table, ready to be gone.

She'd talked about work and what he hadn't been updated about because she forgot late at night and he told her about tour. How it was so far. What the fans were doing every night and how good it felt to be on stage.

The conversation drifted from their own, personal life to the occurring night. Something he'd thought about doing for the longest time.

"When is your soundcheck?" She asked after a break in conversation.

"In about 20 minutes," he said, looking down at his phone before going back to the sandwich in his hands.

"Well, we better head back then."

Arriving at the venue, people were already lining up. Waiting to be let in in a few hours. Keeping his head low, his hood over his head, the two of them walked on the other side of the road, hand in hand. No one faced by the couple passing by. It was nice like that, so quiet and private.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked as she waited for him to get ready.

"We don't have to do anything if you don't want to," he assured her, turning around, leaning against the table and pulling her closer. Holding her waist to keep her in place for him to look at her.

She could see the determination in his eyes. He wouldn't say anything if she didn't want to. They could still pick someone from the crowd.

"I think it's better for us if we just open up," she said, fingers tracing over the details in his face. "We don't have to scream everything into the open, we can still be private."

"Your wish is my command," he said, bowing before opening the door. Waiting for her to walk through before walking through herself.

With her arms propped up on the barricade, she watched as he went though the songs. Messing up some lyrics even after singing them almost every night for the past two months and before that. Laughing as he stumbled on stage or shamelessly flirted with her because everyone in the room knew.

"OK, next one," he said, looking down on the setlist that laid in front of his feet. Smirking as he saw the title. "I wanna dedicate this song to the pretty girl in the front." Pointing right at her, the only person in the pit, his band began to laugh, still they played. "Everyone look at that woman, please."

The start to 'Look At That Woman' began playing, and even when he should get ready for the song, he still talked.

"God, she's so hot," he said, dramatically fanning his face and acting like he might faint. "You think she'll go out with me?"

He was now looking directly at her, waiting for an answer.

"Not if you keep messing up your own lyrics," she said back.

Of course he’d show her, he’d show you to anyone who asked, or didn’t ask, you were the most beautiful girl and he was lucky to be yours. Tucker zoomed out of the picture of you smiling at the camera, on vacation with him and standing in a bathing suit cover, the sun lighting up your eyes. 

The lady looked over the picture, looking at the rings. “I think she needs just a simple band, she’s one in a million, I can tell. She needs an individual gem that shines like she does.” The lady said, making all the air in Tucker’s lungs escape from him.

“Yeah-yeah you’re right.” He said softly, smiling and nodding. The lady read you like a book, she took the bands with other gems and put them away, leaving him with an arrangement. His eyes flickered over one over and over, the lady noticed and took away the other rings. He chuckled when the one he had been staring at lingered in front of him. 

It was so you, sparkly, beautiful, eye-catching. Everything. 

And so he bought it, waited the extra hour as it got adjusted and properly fit. It sat in a ring box in your favorite color, and sat in his palm on the way home.

When he came home, and saw you were too, he panicked. “Fuck.” He whispered, looking around his car for anything to hide the box in. He sighed in relief when he saw a hoodie of his in the back, grabbing it and stuffing the box in it. He carried the hoodie inside and saw you at the couch, distracted with a work call. He walked over and kissed your head, making you blush as your boss could see, they laughed and waved at him through the zoom call before continuing to talk about the project you guys were working on.

Tucker escaped to your shared room, looking around for anywhere he could hide the box. However everywhere he looked was a place you’d rummaged through. He opened the closet door and saw his shoeboxes, putting it in a box that his winter boots sat in. You wouldn’t look there. He huffed out the last of his tension, standing in the closet space. 

“How was the session?” You asked, making him jump and turn to you. You jumped also, “What was that for?” You asked, putting a hand to your heart before laughing. He laughed also, walking over and leaning down to kiss you, “Just didn’t hear you come up. Session went well, went over a song or two about you.” He murmured, placing another kiss on your lips. You smiled against his lips, “I’m flattered.” You said softly, he chuckled and hugged you. “Want some lunch?” He asked, walking out of the closet with you, arms around you still. 

And so he made lunch for you both, pouring you another coffee as he did so, listening to you talk about your job and the upcoming projects you were making. Tucker placed your food in front of you, and smiled as you paused to thank him before getting more into your rant. He leaned back against the counter, watching you with a fond smile as your words blurred into one, thinking about how perfect that lady had described you.

Mid rant, you paused and raised an eyebrow, “What are you so smiley about? Dork.” You said, grinning at him. He shook his head, “Just how much I love you.” He said, grabbing your hand and kissing over the ring that was now several years old. You were skeptical, he nearly shit himself. But he relaxed when you pushed his seat beside you, patting it. 

You two sat there, talking and eating until your phone rang again and this time your next call took place sitting in your backyard in the sun while he played the guitar softly nearby, the tune of the song he wrote about you. You hung up the phone and soaked up the sun, “We should get a dog.” You said, and Tucker looked at you with furrowed brows. You didn’t move, just sat there with your arms under your head as you turned your face up to the sky. Tucker let out a small confused laugh, “Why?” He asked, he got up and placed the guitar inside before walking to you.

He leaned down and blocked your sun, making you open your eyes and look at him. “So I could have a buddy to sit with here.” You said, and his jaw dropped in offense. “What am I to you? Chop liver?” He asked, getting a laugh he loved out of you. “No, no you’re not, you’re my lovely sweet boyfriend.” You said, grinning as your hands rested over his that rested on the chair’s armrests. “Mhm, totally buying it until we get a dog.” He murmured, kissing your lips and then your forehead.

“What kind?” He asked, lips ghosting your forehead as you smiled. “A lab. Some type of dog that likes the sun.” You stated, catching him off guard that you knew instantly. He chuckled and nodded, “A lab would be nice.” He agreed. 

That evening, on the phone, Tucker paced the room while you were out with a friend who helped you pick out a nice dress for a big meeting you had later that week. He was glad you were gone for a second, so he could panic to his mother for a second.

“So did you get the ring?” His mom asked as she watched him pace on facetime. “Yes.” He said, walking upstairs and to the closet. He listened to his mom laugh as he rummaged through the shoebox and grabbed it. She grinned and turned the phone to his dad too, seeing how the box was your favorite color. He opened the box, holding his breath in case he breathed too loud and didn’t hear you enter the house. His mom beamed and brought the phone closer to her face, he heard his dad in the back go let me see I'm his parent too, “It’s gorgeous! When are you asking her?” His mother exclaimed as his dad gave him the proud smile and thumbs up of approval. Tucker stared at it himself. 

“I don’t know actually, maybe in a few weeks when I’m done with shows and we have a calm few months ahead of us?” He said, looking at his mom for some advice. She smiled softly, “Good idea.” She said softly, he nodded and put the box back. “Any place in particular?” She asked as he went back to the living room, sitting down on the couch. “No, she doesn’t want it public which is great, but then like I want to do it in this garden but that’s public-ish. I was thinking about dinner then taking her there with Neema hiding so we could get pictures.” He said, laughing at what he thought was a dumb idea, but the grin on his mother’s face confirmed how perfect it was for you.

“Well we’ll be waiting for that call.” His mother said.

Later that night, Tucker sat with you on the couch, arm slung over your shoulders as you watched television and he scrolled on his phone- a usual routine with him. “I have to go on a business trip the week you fully come home from the festivals.” You said, making his smile fade and he looked down at you. “What?” He asked, pouting for dramatics, he felt his heart sink a bit- he planned to propose that week. “Hey now listen, it’s in Chicago, then we could go to Maine after.” You said. Your idea made him pause, a small smile turning into a huge grin as he listened to your idea.

“You’re smart, you know that?” He said, watching you grin now. He followed that with peppering you with kisses, his heart melting at how you wanted to bring him along and go visit his home. 

He sent a text to his mother as you showered that night, needing a new idea instantly, deciding he’d propose in Maine. Soon his shows ended and he got home to you, doing heaps of laundry before packing once again while you were out getting your nails done to a nice nude color for your conferences and events. Tucker felt some relief in that, knowing you wouldn’t get mad at him for not giving you some warning about your nails. 

He put the box under his clothes in the suitcase, watching as you went through your business clothes and then the casual clothes. He only packed one suitcase, while you packed one large and small one. He had his bags, but it didn’t stop you from complaining about being overpacked. Tucker chuckled as you put a pair of flats in your suitcase beside the beat up pair of shoes you always wore in Maine. 

“Well you have weekdays of business, we leave for Maine during the weekend,” He stated, helping you lay out your business clothes, matching your stance of hands on hips and a thinking face. You grabbed articles of clothing, both of you deciding on outfits and keeping strict to a couple pairs of slacks and working weekday outfits around them. You packed a classy white dress with it, his heart skipped a beat as you stood in the mirror with it on, pairing heels with it. It was like you were onto him. “Should we get a dog in Maine?” You asked, hearing him laugh and watching him in the mirror as he threw his head back with a groan. 

“You won’t drop this-” “I won’t drop this, I want a dog-” “Baby I have plans first.” 

You turned your head to him fully, away from the mirror to truly look at him. Oh shit. “Like what?” You asked. He threw his hands in the air to disguise it while he internally panicked, he didn’t mean to say what he did, “Let me surprise you with a dog, okay?” He said, now getting a groan from you. He let out a breath as you believed him.

As you went to meetings that week, Tucker booked a reservation, gave his mother money to buy a few flower arrangements, and looked up shelters nearby his childhood home. Every night in Chicago, you two went to dinners hosted by people who wanted to work with you. You walked in in matching slacks, you wore a fitting shirt and he wore a button up, you two were a perfect pair. He watched as you socialized easily, shaking hands with the people who were trying to collaborate with your business. You hugged the lady who owned the business, she looked like a future version of you. “This is my boyfriend, Tucker,” You introduced with a smile. Tucker shook her hand as she grinned, “Husband, you said?” She asked, leaning into you to hear you better, you blushed as you corrected her kindly.

Tucker ran a hand over his mouth, looking up at the ceiling with a smile of disbelief like the man up there he hardly believed in was testing him. 

The dinner went well, and before you both knew it, you were sitting in the airport. Tucker’s warm hand was in yours as you sat in his jean jacket and wore comfortable clothes you were dying to get into. He raised his eyebrow at your slipper shoes, you rolled your eyes, “After heels everyday, this is needed dude.” You said, laughing softly with him as he kissed your temple and slinging his arm around you. “Soon we’ll get to lay in a comfortable bed and relax all week.” He assured, his hand never left yours, never stopped fidgeting with the ring on your finger. Thinking and thinking of what he was going to do in two days.

The day in between passed quicker than days ever did.

Tucker woke up before you and kissed your shoulder before slipping out of bed, he grabbed the ring from his suitcase, going to the kitchen where his mom made her coffee and breakfast. She turned to him with a knowing smile, “Flowers will be picked up once you guys leave. I’m making a cake, so don’t get her dessert, and text me on the way back so I know if I need to toss it all out before- I’m joking Tucker don’t look scared.” She laughed at his reaction, he sighed and rolled his eyes, “I hope you didn’t jinx me.” He said, a little bit of an edge in his tone as a joke. His mother scoffed, “She’ll say yes, don’t worry.” She assured. 

She admired the ring before Tucker hid it in a random cabinet as he heard you walk downstairs. He greeted you with a warm hug and big kiss, you talked with his mom as you shared coffee with her, and he went over the reservation with you. “And why is this?” You asked, sipping your coffee.

Tucker looked at you like you insulted him, “I’ve been gone for ages and we haven’t been on a date, we’re always plus ones with other people.” He said in a matter-of-fact tone, and you raised your hand in defense, “Never mind, I’ll let my boyfriend treat me with no question.” You returned his tone, hearing his mom chuckle in the living room. Tucker walked over, an arm hooking around your waist and a fond smile pointed down at you, Tucker kissed you softly- you tasted cigarettes and he tasted coffee, a familiar mix. 

You noticed he was on edge for most of the day, he knew you noticed when your hand was in his more, or you did the usual silent things you did to calm him. This continued through the night, dinner went smooth, you didn’t even ask for dessert, and you played soft tunes you both loved as he drove home- really to the dock he kissed you on for the first time. 

When he parked, you looked at him, confused. Tucker got out without a word, and something in your brain started to think harder than it already had been throughout the day. Your thoughts were cut short when he opened the door and held his hand out to yours, and you felt a slight tremble in them. He walked you to the dock, leaving then returning to join you as you stared out at the water and sunset. This wasn't any different, somedays you guys went here to talk, nothing felt different until you felt the tug on your hand as Tucker knelt down. Everything in your world stopped as you looked down at him with the box and gorgeous ring in his palm, both of you instantly in tears. 

“Y/n-” “Yes-” “Y/n that’s great but please let me finish.” 

So you did, but your hand was already going to adjust your ring off your finger but- “Baby please let me do it.” He laughed as you brought your hand to your side and he laughed out a thank you, composing himself before he said what he wanted to. The small speech that was on the spot, he had so much to say but didn’t know what was right until he opened his mouth. 

“Y/n, ever since you moved into my apartment and then insisted we needed a house that was bigger than the both of us, claiming it would be filled with our life and interests, I knew then I wanted to be with you forever in that house or any house. Everything you do, everything we’ve built, I want forever. No matter where I am, as long as you’re with me I am home, and if you’re not, I’m counting down the minutes and seconds until you are. Will you marry me?”

You acted like you were thinking, making him laugh and shake his head, “You’re a dick.” He joked, smiling as your jaw dropped, “Maybe I’ll throw the ring in the water-” “Hey I was joking-!” “Put the ring on already-!” “You didn’t say yes-” “Oh my god, yes! Yes-YES!” You exclaimed, both of you laughing, he was glad he had put the phone at the start of the dock to record this. “Hey no need to beg.” He teased, raising his eyebrow a few times as you scoffed.

You both smiled as he took the one ring off, sliding it onto your bare pointer finger, and slid the engagement ring on your ring finger. He stood up and engulfed the sides of your face with his hands, kissing you with all the love he could possibly give you. 

The night was filled with you both returning, you shocked by the flowers and cake, and a celebration over cake and the replay of the video. Friends were called, the news was kept quiet, and once you settled into your home back in Los Angeles- Tucker posted a picture with you and your puppy, the ring on your finger shining bright.

Went to Maine for a week, came home with some new additions in our life.

“Yes Van!” Your breath was visible as you cheered at a great save by the keeper, sitting on the bleachers in the cold morning air. It started off simple, going to watch your friend’s games as an excuse to get out of the house, something you didn’t do often enough. She liked having a ride there, and admittedly it was nice knowing someone was at the game for her.

So, you found yourself there week in and week out, sitting amongst the crowd watching her, cheering when her team had won, and smiling when she found you after the game. Though it became a little more difficult when you started smiling wider each time.

You made your way to the sideline, Van meeting you halfway, still in her gear.

“Good game, Palmer.” She punched your arm in response - softly, but it might as well have been with full force, feeling your skin burn at the contact.

“Thanks, give me a minute, then we’ll get out of here?” You nodded, watching her flash a toothy grin and turn away to head to the locker room. It had become tradition to get food afterwards, initially another reason to avoid your home lives, but it quickly turned into something you were excited for.

You couldn’t help but find her endearing, the way she talked about her favourite movies and laughed at the jokes that no one else seemed to get. You had begun to think about her more often than not.

“Hey, wake up! Someone’s gotta drive me around and it’s not going to be me.” You snapped out of your thoughts, finding Van standing in front of you, dressed in fresh clothes and staring at you expectantly. She could drive herself, she just didn’t have the car, aside from some junk of a truck she claimed to be working on.

You rolled your eyes, struggling to ignore the familiar flutter in your chest as you walked side by side through the carpark.

You tried not to laugh too hard as she pondered, in all seriousness, about where to get food, listing all the places she could “force” you to take her. You reached your car, putting her debate to an end with a sigh.

“Are you done? I’ve got a leftover pizza and an empty house, just come to mine.” She shrugged in approval, that option good as any - cheaper too.

You drove back to yours, focusing on the road in an attempt to ignore her gaze while she recounted the match, as if you hadn’t been there watching.

The reason your dynamic worked so well was partially due to how much she talked and how little you did. You could happily sit and listen to her speak all day, admiring the way she passionately lit up. That’s just the way you liked it.

“Then their winger, pretty girl with the ribbons, took a shot but obviously I saved it, and-“ your chest tightened at the word. Pretty. She was pretty, but hearing Van say it still made your grip on the steering wheel double. The worst part about crushing on your closest friend was when you were reminded of how that’s all you were.

She must have noticed a change in your demeanour, mumbling off until you were driving in silence.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

“Cold? What am I, an animal?” Van feigned disapproval as you dropped the pizza box in between you two on your bed.

“Please, I’ve seen you eat worse.” She scoffed in agreement, a slice already half-eaten in her hand. You could still feel the tension lingering, somehow unable to let the jealousy go like you normally could.

God, all she did was call a girl pretty… and she was pretty! Your jaw clenched between bites, zoned out and staring at your crossed legs.

“Dude… are you good?”

Shit.

You flicked your eyes up at hers, a teasing yet concerned look on her face, snapping you out of it real quick.

You should just be grateful she’s your friend.

“Uh… yep all good, just remembered I have some English homework to finish.” It’s not a complete lie, you really did, but it was only an excuse to hide the fact you were feeling unreasonably jealous over the tiniest thing.

“Who cares about that?” She shrugged, her smirk increasing as she looked at you, “we have bigger problems, like who’s gonna eat the last slice.”

You rolled your eyes, relieved she dropped the topic - whether she believed you or not.

Smiling, you grabbed the pizza, “me, duh.”

Van gasped in offence, quickly leaning to grab it out of your hand, falling and pushing both of you backwards onto your mattress. She was practically on top of you, one hand on your wrist, the other next to your head as she stared down at you. You felt goosebumps travel up your sides, her legs on either side of your hips, trapping you.

She was too close, surely able to notice the redness growing on your cheeks, the way you instinctively licked your lips.

“Fine, just take it. I really should do that homework…” your words came out panicked, eyes wide before she rolled onto her back next to you.

“Geez, it’s not like I was going to kiss you.” She was trying to joke, you knew that, but her horrible misinterpretation of your panic only made you feel worse.

“Right.”

You settled at your desk, barely focusing on your homework as Van flipped through your collection of cds to fill the silence. You felt her staring at your back, fighting every urge to turn and look at her.

She finally settled on your bed again, remaining mostly quiet other than a couple murmured song lyrics.

By the time you were done, you found her asleep. Your cat - God knows when he got there, purring next to her.

Oh?

She’d only been at your house a handful of times, never long enough to take a nap. Sure, you two were close, but this was new.

You couldn’t wake her, not when she looked so peaceful. Instead, you put on a softer cd, grabbed a book, and sat carefully on your bed next to her. Deciding to distract yourself by reading instead of watching her like some creep.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

You noticed her finally starting to stir from the corner of your eye, closing your book as she sat up. You couldn’t help the faint blush on your face as you watched her wake up, her eyes readjusting to the afternoon sun, brushing her hair out of her face.

She was pretty. The kind of boyish pretty that maybe made the feelings you had for her ok. But you knew that’s not how it worked; she was still your best friend.

“I completely passed out, huh? I’m sorry, you should’ve woken me.”

You shook your head dismissively, you really didn’t mind, plus, it was better than the awkward tension from before.

Checking the time, her eyebrows furrowed as she cursed under her breath.

“I’ll drive you,” you offered like she had other options, and she thanked you as if she wasn’t going to force you anyway.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

To your relief, the tension was forgotten as you drove, listening to her talk, this time about a party one of her teammates was hosting.

“You should come, it’ll be fun!”

Van was about ten times more extroverted than you, and you knew she had good intentions, but you weren’t sure you’d be up for it.

Parties were fine until Van was busy socialising with everyone she could, leaving you to awkwardly stand around and hope to run into another friend.

She could see your hesitation, pushing your arm gently as her voice turned more teasing, “come onnnnn, maybe you’ll meet someone.”

Your face flushed, that’s the opposite of what you wanted. You wouldn’t meet anyone you were interested in, instead, you were afraid she would.

She was often sought out by girls at parties, either as some demeaning experiment or just a good time. Meanwhile you were shrugging off anyone who tried to come near you, waiting for Van to reappear, pretending you didn’t know what she was doing for your own sake.

“No thanks.” You shook your head, dismissing the idea, the whole thing making you feel ill with jealousy again.

She sighed, unsure why you were acting so closed off.

And just like that, the tension had returned, creating a thick, uncomfortable silence until you pulled up to her house. You refused to look at her, sitting facing ahead, half expecting her to just get out and leave without a word.

“Ok seriously. What’s up with you? You’ve been acting weird all day, did I do something?”

No, she hadn’t done anything wrong, it was all you and your dumb brain. You had no right to be jealous, no excuse for the possessiveness you felt.

“I-“ you didn’t know what to say, turning your body to face hers but still avoiding her gaze.

“Did I make you uncomfortable before? I’m sorry if-“

“No. No, Van, not at all,” you didn’t want her to think that about herself, blushing at the memory, “it’s just… I hate the way you talk about pretty girls and how you run away at parties doing God knows what with God knows who. It shouldn’t, but it makes me feel like shit.”

You finally looked up at her, wishing your seat would swallow you whole after your nervous word vomit.

“What, you’re jealous?” She asked like it was unfathomable, still not quite getting the point. “You’ll meet someone, I’m telling you. You just have to go out and actually talk to people.”

Were you jealous of her? No. Were you jealous of the girls she got with? Yes… very much so.

“No, Van.”

There was no going back, feeling your heart pound as you spoke, watching her every expression.

“I don’t want to meet someone. I’m not jealous that you find pretty girls at parties and kiss them. I wish… just... I like you... why can't it be me with you?"

You’d done it now. Spilt your guts and probably lost the best friendship you’d ever had. You would’ve run if you weren’t in your own car, internally cringing as you watched the way Van seemed to process your words.

“Oh.”

“Never mind… I’m sorry,” you apologised before she could say anything else, offering to drive her home again. But she grabbed your wrist before you could turn back in your seat.

She leant over to reach you, her face close to yours. Her expression was unreadable, a mix of curiosity and something else you couldn’t quite decode.

“You want me to kiss you? That’s why you’ve been in a shitty mood?” Her voice was soft, inching closer to you without breaking eye contact.

Your eyes fluttered closed as her hand moved to hold your chin. “It’s stupid…” looking back up at her, hoping that if you dismissed it, it would all go away.

“Doesn’t sound stupid to me.” She was smiling again, that familiar smirk on her lips. “Now do you want me to or not?”

You paused, eyes wide with shock before softly nodding against her hand, of course you did. Your eyes flicked down to her mouth as you met her halfway, feeling her lips graze yours tentatively.

It was soft - better than you’d imagined, and you couldn’t stop a muffled sigh from escaping against her lips. Her hand moved up your face, settling on your cheek while the other rested gently on your knee.

Grabbing a fistful of her t-shirt, you readjusted yourself to move closer to her, overwhelmed by the way her tongue brushed against your lower lip.

She pulled back just enough to look at you, your heart nearly exploding in your chest as she tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“Happy now?”

You laughed but the blush on your face gave yourself away.

She could tell it was more than just simply wanting her to kiss you, the feelings going deeper than that.

Your skin felt a little colder as you lost her touch, the redhead dropping back into her seat.

“You could’ve just asked, you know?”

Still a flustered mess, you watched her sit back, that dumb smirk of hers returning.

You noticed her fiddling with her hands the way she did when she was nervous. “I didn’t think you liked girls like that… I didn’t think you liked me like that.” Her voice was quiet as she confessed, “I would’ve jumped at the chance earlier if I did.”

You blushed an even deeper red at her words.

“Well, I do like you like that.” It was her turn to blush and your heart ached at the way she looked at you.

“I think I’d like to kiss you again.”

“Really?” You barely believed her words, even as she leant over to your seat again.

She laughed at your disbelief, “yes, idiot.”

Her hand snaked around to rest at the back of your neck, pulling you closer, still searching for any sign of hesitation.

When she found none, her eyes dropped down to your lips, licking her own before she closed the distance between the two of you.

It was a little rougher the second time around, less uncertain as her other hand found your own, holding it tightly. You gasped into her mouth at the way she gripped your hair, allowing her to deepen the kiss.

You were a little dizzy when you pulled away, resting against her forehead, still processing how any of it was real.

“Let me take you out. I’m tired of dragging you to my games just as an excuse to see you.”

You nodded in agreement, and by that point, the blush on your face might as well have been permanent.

She let out a breath of relief, glad you were on the same page. You watched her as she shut her eyes, pressing against you before pulling away, squeezing your hand only to let go.

She hopped out of your car with a promise to call you.

You watched her walk off, lips burning and craving her. You didn’t miss the way she subtly turned to smile at you, she could clearly tell how insane she was driving you, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

taglist 💌: @callsignwidow

You knew that Van was the storyteller-- the light of the group. The one who gave them hope and warmed their chilly nights with stories from home and nostalgia. 

They all looked to Van when they needed to be uplifted, and she was always prepared with a fictionalized tale of their current predicaments just to make everyone smile. 

It was good that they smiled because of her, because they rarely smiled with you. They used to, maybe, but not now. Not now that you were the Antler Queen. 

With Lottie, people followed her because of her visions and prophecies. She even had you fooled for a bit, honestly. It seemed convincing, and you all were just so lost. 

With Natalie, it was more about reverence. Everyone bowed before her, everyone looked to her, and everyone treated her like the queen. Because, well, she was. 

And now, it was you. You tried not to let it affect your relationship with Van-- you tried really hard. You remembered numerous conversations that you had with her, detailing how you would be a better leader.  Natalie was too soft, Lottie was too divisive. You would be perfect. 

But of course, nothing goes according to plan. 

Your plan that somehow involved everyone getting along. The one that didn't factor in Shauna and Mari fighting, or Akilah's animals not producing enough food.

It was more work than you had anticipated, but it didn't seem like Van was as shocked. 

“They don’t want to be led,” she’d argued one night. “This place… it doesn’t want to be controlled.” 

“You don’t think I'm fit to lead?” You had replied, mostly joking, but a little wounded below the surface. 

“You know that’s not it. You’re good at bossing people around-- I’d know.” 

You had both laughed it off, forgetting about it for the most part, but it lingered in the back of your mind. 

It lingered for a while, honestly. Longer than you wanted to admit.

You needed your girlfriend’s support over everyone’s, and you knew that technically, you had it, but was it unconditional? 

As the Antler Queen, you could have your own hut, but you, of course, had Van staying with you. It was a decision that you hadn’t even thought about. Van would appreciate that, right? She would see that you’re the same as you always were? 

It weighed on you more and more. 

Had you changed as a leader like Natalie had? Were you more jaded now? Had you split the group with any rules like Lottie had with her rituals and meetings?

Van still slept with you and held you every night. You two had sex regularly, like you normally did before you were crowned queen. The sex was better now, if anything, because it could be muffled by the blankets-- the thicker ones decidedly given to the current leader.

But you had to know for sure. 

Maybe you’d been moody that day, maybe Van was just too intuitive, but she sat down beside you on the makeshift bed, her brow furrowed. 

“Something wrong?” 

She said it like she already knew, and maybe she did. 

“You think I’m fit to lead, right?” you blurted out. You hadn’t meant to ask so outright, but it just came pouring out. 

She blinked, not quite caught off guard since she was used to you, but no witty answer came from her like it usually did. 

“Of course, I do,” she reassured. “I think you’re the one most fit to lead.” 

“But you still agree with what you said the other day?”

She cocked her head, not remembering, so you continued: “About the wilderness not wanting to be governed. About no leader being enough.” 

“Oh,” she bit her lip contemplatively, nodding slowly. “That.” 

"Yeah. That."

She took a moment before speaking again: “I don’t think anyone can predict what’s going to happen or know what to do next. I just meant… I didn’t want you to feel responsible. Responsible to do something like Nat did, or hand out punishments if Shauna and Mari go at it again.” 

“I understand,” you nodded, because you did understand. “But if you had to pick someone…” 

“You,” she said, placing a hand over yours. “You’re smart, capable, diplomatic… You know I have all the faith in the world in you.”

“You do?” you asked, your heart thudding a bit by the simple reassurance.

“Did Shauna say something again?” she asked, a bit more defensive. "To make you doubt yourself?"

In the past, Shauna might’ve made a snide remark or two about your leadership. You knew that she wanted the power and the glory, but you wouldn’t let her envy get to you. 

“No,” you replied, shaking your head. “It’s not that. I just want to know that you’re with me.”

“Of course I am,” she placed a kiss on your forehead, her lips lingering. “I’m with you. I’m, like, the vice president.” 

“Oh?” you chuckled. 

“Or a partner-- I mean, in crime.”

“Crime?”

“Well,” she tsk-ed, wording it wrong. “I dunno. Like The X-Files. Scully’s the real star, I’ll just be Mulder.”

“You don’t even like Mulder,” you rolled your eyes, having to hear Van’s X-Files theories again and again.

She missed watching the real show-- she wondered if Mulder and Scully had gotten together yet in the time they'd been out here, away from civilization.

“That’s not true!” she laughed, nudging you. “I just think Scully’s too good for him.”

“So you think I’m too good for you?” you replied, cheekily. 

“I think you’re the Queen,” she said, kissing your hand with reverence, then up your arm. “And I’m your right-hand man at your service.” 

You hummed as Van kissed up to your shoulder, then to your bare neck. You craned your neck up to give her more room to leave gentle, open-mouthed kisses. Her breath tickled a bit, her slow exhales forever comforting your racing mind. 

At your silence, she nipped the spot she’d been kissing, leaving a little slitted mark with her front teeth, “Don’t you have any orders for me?” 

When she sat back, she was smiling. Van was always smiling, even when times got tough. Even when you had a lot on your plate, or people around camp were down, because that’s what she did. 

You also knew the ways she liked to touch you and the ways she felt the most useful. So sure, you’d indulge her. Because at the end of the day, it was mainly about you anyway– she made sure of that. 

“Lie back,” you said, finally, giving her room to move comfortably on the makeshift bed. 

march 4th, 7:01 am 

As long as you’ve worked at this hospital, or anywhere else, you’ve never been late. Not even by a minute. 

But today you were. 

You knew it wasn’t a big deal. Everyone was late every once in a while. Robby was last week. Cassie last month. 

But it made your chest pound and your mind go to places it shouldn’t. Convinced you you weren’t going to be let in through the double doors. That you would be dismissed the second you clocked in. 

But that was stupid, because that wouldn’t happen. 

It would never happen. Even though you were only an intern, didn’t really have a real place here yet, you wouldn’t be fired. 

Your car wouldn’t start this morning. Only mere days after Cassie told you to keep an eye on it, it shuttered and then.. nothing. You tried it multiple times, and it wouldn’t start. 

So many times that you had to wait for the next bus at the nearest bus stop. Then you waited an extra ten minutes because for some reason—you were sure God was behind it—it got delayed. 

So here you were, walking into the emergency department only one minute late, but your world is tilted on its axis, heart pounding so loud you can hear it. 

But then Dana doesn’t question anything when you walk through the door, Robby nods at you in a greeting, Dennis excuses himself when he almost runs into you. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be a big deal. Maybe you built this up to be something it wasn’t. Maybe—

“Well, well, well.” Cassie smirks at you once you reach your locker. She leans against one a few down from you, arms crossed over her chest. “Do you know what time it is?” 

“Seven-oh-three.” You nod, already fully aware of the time.

You slam your locker a little too hard at the thought. 

“Wake up late?” Her bangs fall across her forehead messily when she tilts her head to the side. 

“No.” You turn towards her, leaning against your own locker now. She watches you, eyes lingering over your neck, where your braid falls a little too loose, and you sigh in defeat. “Fine. Maybe I hit snooze a few times.” 

“I noticed.” Her mouth is tilted up in amusement. “But that’s not all.” 

“My car might’ve.. not started this morning.” Your head falls against the locker with a thud. 

“Hm.” Cassie tilts her head back up, giving a nod, bemused by this entire interaction. “And didn’t I tell you that would happen?” 

“You didn’t use those exact words..” You scoff. 

“But pretty close.” She holds her pointer and thumb together, showing just how close her words were, eyes squinting. “So what’d you do? Call Faith?” 

“No, no.” You shake your head, stand up a little bit straighter. “I didn’t want to bother her.” 

“Okay.” She nods, presses her lips together to suppress her smile, dimples on full display. “So.. what did you do?” 

“I.. took the bus.” You shrug like it’s nothing, play with a string coming out of the hem of your scrub top. 

A laugh escapes her, “Instead of bothering your.. girlfriend— I’m sorry, are you guys dating yet? Not important. Anyways, instead of bothering Faith you.. took the bus?” 

“Yes.. and yes.” You nod along as she speaks. “We are dating now. 

“That’s good.” She smiles bright, and you almost feel like it matches the fluorescent lights outside the room. 

“I took what you said to heart. I deserve something good.” You sound so sure of yourself, like her words meant the world to you, and something blossoms in her heart. 

“I’m glad.” She chuckles softly, stepping forward to put her arm around your shoulder, walking the two of you out of the locker room. 

“So.. back to my car.” You bite the inside of your cheek, making sure this conversation doesn’t deflect into something else. 

Cassie turns her head back towards you, the two of you stopping in front of the bathroom doors. Not the most ideal place to have a conversation, but it’ll do, you thought. 

“Do you know anyone.. who could fix it? You’re the only person I really talk to here.” You sputter out, feeling the need to explain yourself. “And I need to get it fixed as soon as possible.” 

“I could fix it.” She interjects your spiral before you get too far gone. Because she knows how quickly that happens, how long it takes to get down the rabbit hole. 

“I don’t have much money saved. And I really need someone who doesn’t charge muc—“

“Gumdrop.” Her hands cover yours, stop them from flailing around, close to hitting her or yourself in the face. “I said I could fix it.” 

Her voice is soft, and maybe that’s why it entices you to listen now. Or the way her soft but calloused hands hold yours. Or the way she’s looking at you—like you aren’t a mess, but someone she sees herself in completely. 

“Really?” You perk up. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.” 

“Absolutely.” She lowers your hands so they rest in front of your waist, then she lets go. “I know things about cars. I can fix it. I already knew what it was.” 

“Are—“

“I’m sure.” Her voice is rougher this time, like it’s the only way to get through to you, and her eyes are full of promise. Like you’ve been friends for years and she’s never once lied to you. 

“Okay.” You back down slightly, shoulders less rigid than before. 

“What days are you off this week?” She questions, pulling her phone out to look at your schedules side by side. 

“Uh..” You stare at the ceiling, as if your schedule is plastered on the tiles. “Wednesday and.. Saturday.” 

“Perfect.” She nods and slides her phone back into her pocket. “I’m also off Saturday.” 

“But what about..” You put your hand out, trying your hardest to remember her son's name, but for some reason your mind is blanking. 

“Harrison?” Her face brightens, but dims just as quickly. “Chad counted that night last week as a day with Harrison so.. I won’t see him this week.” 

“What?” You ask flabbergasted, and the two of you start walking again, towards the break room this time. “What a jackass.” 

“Tell me about it.” She turns her head to look at you as you reach your destination, both of your hands reaching out for the coffee pot at the same time. “Oh, I’m sorry. You first.” 

“No, no. You go ahead.” You gesture towards the pot with an awkward laugh. 

“Okay..” She spares you a glance of amusement once again, a small smile on her face at the blush on your cheeks. 

“Anyways.. um..” You trail off as Cassie pours both of you a cup of coffee. 

“How do you take it?” She points to the styrofoam cups sitting together on the counter. 

“Two sugars. Just a splash of cream.” You instruct, and she does just that. Handing it to you after she mixes it together. “Thank you.” 

“Of course.” She gives a curt nod and makes her way to the door. “Find me before you head out tonight, yeah? I’ll give you a ride home and we can hash out the details on your car situation.” 

“Right. Yeah.” You swallow a steaming sip of coffee as Cassie leaves you alone with your thoughts, tongue and throat raw. 

march 4th, 7:22 pm 

“You ready?” Cassie lingers outside of the locker room, a tired hand wrapped around the strap of her bag, heavy head against the door frame. 

“Yeah.” You sigh, a soft smile on your lips from the weight of the day, but also from the nerves of letting someone in. 

You struggled, especially with people at work, but you wanted to let Cassie in. And that spoke volumes, at least to yourself. You’ve never actually wanted to let someone get close to you, to let someone be near you more than what you had to be. 

But it was easy for her. So maybe it was a sign to give up, let someone else try and take care of you for once, to let yourself breathe. 

“Thank you again.” You don’t look at her yet, eyes glued to the ground in front of you as you pass through the double doors, hands fidgeting with the house key in your pocket. “You don’t have to do this.” 

“I want to.” She tilts her head down. “You shouldn’t ride the bus this late at night anyways. It’s a big city. Anything could happen, you know?” 

“I know.” You look up at her with a weak smile, throat tight with emotion. “But thank you anyways.” 

She only smiles at you as you reach her car. She unlocks it and the two of you climb inside, her heat taking a minute to warm up. 

It wasn’t as cold outside as it was a few weeks ago, but it was still a bit brisk. 

“It’ll take a minute to heat up. Direct me to your place?” She lifts her eyebrows, waiting for a response from you before she pulls out of the parking lot. 

“Yeah.” You nod. “Just turn left out of here.” 

“You got it.” She puts the car in reverse so she can pull out of her spot. 

It’s quiet in the car other than the low hum of her car and your whispers of direction. You appreciate it. You haven’t talked to Cassie a lot, but you got the feeling she understood you more than anyone else did. That she knew you needed space sometimes. 

“Do you want me to play music?” Her voice is soft, probably from the distress of the day. “We don’t have to talk, but I hate the quiet.” 

That makes you see her in a different light, a woman of few words, at least around other people, who hates the quiet. 

“Sure.” You pick at the side of your nail nervously, watching out the window as the city flies past. “I live down this next road.” 

She turns the radio on, nodding to let you know she heard you, flipping her turn signal on at the right time. 

“You got it.” 

When she pulls into your driveway she looks at your car, as if she can see the engine through the hood, and you watch her carefully. 

“Um..” You sit up in the seat, letting the seatbelt fall off your shoulder with a loud noise. 

Cassie’s head turns towards you, and you feel even more awkward. You wonder if it will never not be awkward. But knowing you, it’s possible it won’t. 

“I can come here Saturday morning.” She treads carefully, trying not to overstep. “Just so you don’t have to pay to get it towed.” 

“That would be nice.” You grab the bag off the floor, sitting it in your lap, taking note of how she isn’t in any rush to leave. Like she actually enjoys your company. 

“Do you.. can we exchange numbers? We don’t have to, I just think it would make this easier.” She puts her hand out as she explains, flailing it around with the waves of her voice. 

“Yeah.” Your voice is a little too enthusiastic, too bold with excitement, but you try to ignore it. You pull your phone out of a pocket in your bag, handing it to her. 

She taps on it longer than you think she should, but then explains as she hands it back, “I texted myself that way I could save it.”

“Oh.” You nod slow, taking the information in, reading the short message she sent to herself, holding back a smile. 

You: It’s Gumdrop 

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?” You look up with a smile, real, no sense of hesitance in it like many times before, and it cracks her chest open in a good way. 

“Nope.” She lets out a breathy laugh, voice going gravely with sleep. 

“I should let you go.” You reach for the door handle. “I usually go to bed around this time.” 

“This early?” She quirks an eyebrow. “Makes sense. That must be why you’re better energized than I am in the mornings.” 

It’s your turn for your chest to break open now, pride that someone doesn’t make fun of you for going to sleep so early. That she likes you, enjoys your company, despite knowing one of—or what you feel like is—your flaws. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You shrug with a laugh bubbling in your throat. You push the door open, standing outside of it now, leaning in so you’re face to face. 

“Do you have a ride tomorrow?” She leans over the center console, elbow holding her up. 

“Um.. no.” You shake your head. “I’ll text faith—“

“I could—“ She cuts herself off. “Or.. yeah, that works too.” 

“Okay.” You laugh softly. “Um.. I’ll see you at work.” 

“Yeah.” She nods more enthusiastically than she probably should, a smile on her face, no sense of the awkwardness that you’re feeling. “I’ll see you at work.” 

 march 9th, 11:21 am 

That Saturday morning, Cassie arrives at your house just a little after eleven, giving time for both of you to wake up, get some coffee in your system. 

She knocks on the door, waits for you to come outside, tool box in hand, sunglasses perched on the bridge of her nose. 

“Nice sunglasses.” You lean against the door frame, cup of coffee in your hand. “I’d offer you a cup but.. I only have one clean.” 

“Gumdrop.” She shakes her head with a laugh, lifting the glasses to perch on top of her head. “That’s alright. I had a cup before I left the house.” 

You stand there watching her for a moment before you clear your throat, “Ready to start?” 

“Yes.” She looks at the tool box in her hand and then back up at you. “lead the way.” 

She works quietly for the most part, mainly to please you, so she doesn’t scare you off just yet. Just before she gets to know you. 

“How come there wasn’t anyone you knew to do this?” She doesn’t look up as she works, careful not to mess anything up. She really didn’t have money to buy you a whole new car. 

“I..” You shrug, wrapping your jacket further around your body, like a cover. 

“You don’t.. really seem like the type to have friends.” It was supposed to come out as an observation, but she’s sure her voice sounds more condescending, like she’s making fun of her for it. She looks up at you, eyes full of fear. “I— I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like that—“

“Cassie.” You laugh. “It’s okay. I promise. And.. you’re right.” 

“I’m sorry anyway.” She shakes her head and looks back at the engine. 

“You don’t have to be.” Your arms are crossed over your abdomen as you watch her work. “You’re right. I have a hard time letting people in. Especially at work.”

She knows all of this, made mental notes of all of this last month, but it feels good to know she was right. 

“But you let me in.” Her movements become slower, telling herself it’s so she can focus on both, not make a mistake, but she was more interested in this than the engine beneath her hands. “Why?” 

“You’re easy to talk to.” Is all you say. Voice light, raw with vulnerability. You look down at the ground, too afraid to make the eye contact you know Cassie is begging you to make. 

“Good to know.” She doesn’t take her eyes off of you, watching you again, focus nowhere near where it should be. 

“I’ll make us lunch.” You cut in to make this less awkward, followed by a deep sigh to calm your pounding chest. “Anything you’re craving in particular?” 

“Something warm.” Cassie requests, a small smile on her face followed by a shiver. “It’s still pretty cold out here.” 

“Coming right up.” You promise but don’t make any movement to leave. 

“You aren’t moving.” Cassie peers over her shoulder again, a knowing smirk on her face, that she broke through to you. 

A laugh bursts up your chest, “Maybe I don’t mind your company.” 

“Maybe I don’t either.” She turns back to your car, finishing up what she was doing. 

She has you sit in the front seat and start it, making sure everything goes right, and then you thank her for fixing it. 

“Thank you again, really.” You want to put your hand on her elbow, force her to look at you, but you retract your hand just as quickly as it shot out. “You don’t understand how much I appreciate it.” 

“Of course.” She smiles at you, eyes raking over your hair, just now seeing the adorable braids. “I like your hair.” 

Your hand moves over the groves formed by the braids, a sheepish look on your face, “Oh. I just did them quickly. They aren’t that good.” 

“Gumdrop.” Her voice rasps in that way it goes when you won’t accept something she just told you, like when—you assume—she’d give her son a compliment and he’d shrug her off. 

And it makes you immediately agree, accepting that they are cute, despite the diminutive amount of time it took. 

“How’d you learn to do hair like that?” Her eyes don’t leave the top of your head, admiring the half-assed—at least in your opinion—braids on top of your head. “It’s cute.” 

“I don’t know, honestly.” You shrug. “I used to like doing hair. I’d watch videos and try to do it with my ex girlfriends.” 

“Well your work paid off.” She nods her head slightly, hoping this time the compliments settles in. 

“Thank you.” Your eyes watch over her with uncertainty, like you believe she’s lying, but you know she isn’t. 

“I know we’re.. still figuring out this friendship,” She pauses, waiting for you to freeze up, waiting for you to say that’s not what you are, but you don’t. “but I wouldn’t mind if you tried your hairstyles on me.” 

You chest clenches, and for the first time in a long time you’re glad you have someone to talk to. Not only because she offered to let you do her hair, but because you can talk about something normal, something real, and not feel like the whole world is coming down on you. 

“I would really like that.” You whisper, so low you don’t think Cassie hears it.

But then her eye sparkles, and her right dimple becomes more prominent, and she’s nodding slowly, like she’s committing this moment to memory. The moment you finally let her in. 

You clear your throat, “How about lunch?” 

“Sounds good.” She nods, one hand reaching into her pocket, pulling the pack out. 

“What are you doing?” You stop walking towards the porch, spinning around to watch her stand by your car. 

“I’m just gonna smoke before I come in.” She smacks the pack against her hand, and your eyes look up in understanding. “Is that okay?” 

Your heart warms as she lights the cigarette. At the fact that she didn’t assume she could just smoke inside. And you want to thank her, jump up and down and hug her, do something for her for not assuming. But you don’t. Because that would be weird. And you couldn’t scare off your first real friend in a long time.

“Thank you.” You stick with a nod. 

“For what?” She asks around the cigarette before she takes it out of her mouth, holding it between two fingers at her side. 

“Just.. thank you.” You squint from the sun, doing your best to give her a warm smile, and shrug. Because there’s so much to thank her for. 

So you stick with the generic appreciation, make your way into the house, and begin lunch.