#in between

WHAT KIND OF person dumps their significant other on valentine's day? who has the audacity, the nerve to break someone's heart on the one day of the year purely dedicated to love?

the answer to those questions is you, shockingly.

the day seemed doomed from the beginning. you had woken up to a text from derek (the name of your now ex-boyfriend) detailing his apologies for not being able to spend the morning with you due to an early morning class. 

following the explanation and plethora of heart emojis was a screenshot of a receipt from some food delivery. you were confused at first until a third text came through. "check your front door :)" it said. 

curious though skeptical, you shrugged on a random throw blanket before making your way to your apartment's entrance. pulling open the door, there's no one there but there is a small brown bag resting on the carpeted hallway. as soon as you pick up the package, a fourth (and final, but you didn't know it then) text buzzed through.

"hope i got your order right, i love you and i'll see you at lunch ❤️"

you can't help but smile at the message, your hopeless romantic roots tugging at your heart strings. upon opening the bag, however, the smile fades quickly.

he did, in fact, not get your order right. there was a medium sized iced drink, but it was a coffee instead of your usual matcha latte. and the pastry accompanying it was a croissant. which would have been fine...except for the fact that it was a chocolate croissant. you never liked chocolate.

despite derek's mistakes, you consumed the order nonetheless, not wanting to be ungrateful. it was the thought that counts anyway...right?

before you began to spiral into insanity over little details (such as messing up your starbucks order), you decided to distract yourself by calling your best friend. clicking the contact with no hesitation, it only takes two rings for the blonde to pick up.

meanwhile, in werth training center, the aforementioned best friend had just flopped down onto the wooden floors, drained from the scrimmage their coach had just made them do. 

he explained that their shortened practice was their valentine's day gift from him which, compared to their usual practices, made it seem like he was possessed by an angel. maybe a pink valentine-themed one.

"paige," azzi calls out to her from the row of seats on the sideline, "y/n," she says simply before gently throwing the purple-encased phone to the sweaty girl. she catches it effortlessly, answering the call in a heartbeat. 

"what's up, y/n?" she opens with a smile, sitting up and settling into a criss-crossed position.

"hi, p, happy valentine's day," you reply, a smile of your own growing on your face at the sound of her voice. 

"happy valentine's," paige greets, ignoring the spark in her chest.

"are you at practice?" you ask as you discard the unfinished coffee and bread.

"yeah but we got let out early," she explains, now standing up and walking to the locker rooms, "i'm bouta shower and head back to the dorms."

"that's good," you nod, "you got any plans for today?"

"nah, i'm prolly just gonna chill in my room. watch some grey's, order wings maybe. ou that actually sounds good.."

you laugh lightly at her trailing thought, "you don't have a date or anything? i'm sure there are girls that would pay thousands."

"well, they can keep their money. spend it on getting a hobby or something," she shrugs, knowing that she could, in fact, have any girl wrapped around her finger. except for the one she actually wanted.

"please," you scoff, "don't act like you don't love their attention."

"i don't really care about...their attention," she mumbles, gathering herself a change of clothes.

"hm?" you hum, not hearing her clearly.

"nothin'," she dismisses, "what about you? is derek with you right now?"

"nope," you sigh, "he's at class."

"willingly? at eight in the morning?"

"mandatory attendance, apparently."

"that's bullshit," she scoffs, slightly angered by his lack of presence.

"it's fine, p," you insist, half-lying, "we're going out for lunch anyways so…”

"still. want me to drop by, get you some breakfast?" she offers.

"thanks, but derek doordashed me some starbucks."

"alright..." she says skeptically, as if she doesn't believe that he would care enough to do so, "he get your order right?"

"um...almost."

"wasn't even close, was he?" paige laughs.

"iced coffee and a chocolate croissant,” you breathe out.

"wow," she's almost speechless at how far off he was. almost.

"don't."

"i didn't say anything!"

"you were about to-"

"i mean, doesn't he know you don't like coffee? or chocolate?" she laughs again, shaking her head.

"it's fine-"

"i'ma stop by in a bit, alright?" she interrupts.

"what?" you ask, "i said you don’t have to.”

"you got, what?" she checks the time on her apple watch, "'bout 3 hours 'til you get ready to meet up with derek?"

"something like that, yeah."

"then i'll keep you company," she reasons, "plus you got a better tv than me."

"of course," you roll your eyes with a chuckle.

"i'ma freshen up real quick and head over, yeah?"

"yeah, okay," you give in, though your heart rate quickened slightly.

"alright, i'll see you soon."

"bye, p," you end, hanging up and going to take a shower of your own.

on the other side of the line, paige was queueing up some music in front of her locker when azzi decided to sneak up on her. 

“since when do you listen to gracie abrams and taylor swift?”

“yo, chill! damn near gave me a heart attack,” she jumps, hand on her chest in shock. azzi simply deadpans at the girl, eyebrow raised waiting for her to answer, “what? i like their songs.”

“‘in between’? ‘need’?” she reads off of the girl’s phone, “paige, these songs aren’t even officially released.”

“okay…and?”

“and…i remember someone just gushing about these songs last night,” she continues with an suggestive tone.

“oh yeah? who?” paige plays dumb.

“paige.”

“i don’t know what you’re insinuating here but-“

“spell ‘insinuating.’” the brunette dares.

“okay, azzi, where is this going?” she sighs, dropping her shoulders exasperatedly. she feels annoyance rising in her. not at her friend, specifically, but at the thought of having the same conversation they’ve had too many times before.

“tell me you’re not still into y/n.”

“the fuck? of course i’m not,” she defends instantly, but from the raise of her teammates eyebrows, she knows it wasn’t anywhere near convincing, “i promise i’m over her.”

“is that why it only takes you one second, maybe two, to answer her calls and texts? or why your face, swear to god, lights up when you see her or even just talk about her?” azzi challenges, not believing paige’s words.

“i don’t do that-“

azzi laughs, “thank god you can hoop ‘cause you’re a shit liar.”

her frustration is quick to rise, “bro, what do you want me to do? i can’t just shut it off like it was never there, alright? i tried distancing myself from her; it didn’t work. i tried talking to that one cheerleader; it didn’t work. i tried being friends with derek; guess what? it didn’t work. so now what?” paige flops onto the bench in her locker, head low as she rests her elbows on her knees.

azzi sees the defeated look on her face. she’s breathless and tired but not from the drills they just did in practice. 

“paige…” she starts, but she can’t find the words to comfort the blonde. there’s a beat of silence, a sense of helplessness lingering in the air as if it was radiating off of paige.

“you know he can’t even get her fucking breakfast order right?” she speaks up a moment later, “shit, i wouldn’t even be surprised if he gives her daisies when they go out later.”

“what’s wrong with daisies?” azzi asks, confused.

“she’s allergic,” she answers simply. 

another beat of silence. this time filled with azzi’s understanding - revelation, if you will. she knows that paige has been your best friend since elementary school. but now she knows that, to paige, you were so much more than just her best friend. paige knew you like she knew the lines painted across a basketball court. she understood you like she understood the rules of the game she was practically born to play. 

but there was always one thing she never understood about you: why did you waste your time on people who didn’t care like she did? or in simpler terms, why didn’t you ever notice her?

“paige,” the brunette says carefully, “you’re gonna destroy yourself and y/n if you keep this up. i know it’s hard to hear but you have to get over her.”

“i don’t know how,” paige whispers, as if the words themselves are physically hurting her.

“then make her see you,” azzi offers, “make her realize that you’re the one for her.”

“but she’s with derek, and-“

“i have a feeling derek won’t be around long,” she chuckles, “but you? i know you’ll always be there for her. she knows it, too. she just needs a little help understanding why.”

“maybe,” she sighs, “i’ll figure it out. thanks, az.”

“you’re welcome. just remember - oh what’s that one saying? shit or get off the pot? yeah, that.”

“disgusting,” paige breaks out into laughter, shaking her head and standing up from her spot on the bench.

“that’s what you are. now go shower ‘cause you stink.”

“hey!” she yells, throwing a random towel at her teammates head as she runs away with a yelp.

turning back to her locker, she picks up her phone to type out a text.

peely 🍌: hey, i can’t make it to yours, coach wants to go over some film for a while - sorry :(

y/n: no worries! tell geno i said pls have mercy

peely 🍌: u got it

peely 🍌: doordashed u sum matcha btw, should be there in a bit

y/n: aw thanks p u didnt have to

peely 🍌: dw abt it, have fun on ur date :)

with the send of the final text, paige sighs, throwing her phone into her bag and heading to the showers muttering, “why do i do this to myself?”

——

you had been waiting at the restaurant for almost an hour. that makes three awkward smiles as you tell the waitress you're just waiting for someone, two refills of an ice cold water you're only drinking to calm your nerves, and one tauntingly empty chair across from you.

you remained, of course, because you were so sure that he would come. you made up excuses for him in your head: flat tire, broken traffic light, alarm malfunction - something, anything that justified the embarrassment you were feeling right now.

your only source of enjoyment was the notes of "holy ground" by taylor swift playing softly from the speakers in the room. you found peace in the familiar song, occasionally humming along to the lyrics you know by heart.

the melody allows you to get lost in your thoughts, acting as a distraction from the situation at hand. and somehow, your mind leads you to your best friend. you think of her soft blonde hair, the way she smiles - really smiles, and your favorite memories with her.

MINNESOTA, 2020

"i dunno, i don't really like taylor swift."

"what?" you exclaim, lifting your head from paige's lap, "wow, i have failed you."

"nah, i just don't really listen to her. she's too radio for me," paige explains.

"what does that even mean?" you laugh, laying back down and resting your head on paige's legs.

"like...i feel like she makes her songs specifically for the radio. the ones i hear aren't that special."

“yeah, the ones you've heard, maybe. you just need to be introduced to the best ones," you say before getting up to fetch your earbuds from your backpack and handing them to paige. after plugging them into your phone, you hand one of the buds to paige and keep the other for yourself.

the girl beside you settles back against her headboard, placing the gaming controller she had just been using onto her nightstand. instinctively, you lean your head on her shoulder, scrolling through your playlists to find a suitable song.

after a while, you settle on “holy ground” from your playlist titled, “a romcom kind of love.” the iconic drum beat echoes in your ear, the quick lyrics sending chills across your skin. about halfway through, paige starts getting into it, even tapping on your leg lightly to the flow of the words. when the song comes to a close, she leaves her hand resting on your thigh, innocently brushing her fingers on your skin in random shapes.

“so? what did you think?” you ask, peering up at her.

“it’s good,” she states plainly, “still very radio-y, though.”

“you’re impossible,” you roll your eyes, retaking your place against her shoulder and scrolling to find another song.

this time you choose a newer production, one that technically wasn’t an official song. you had to relocate to a different app completely just to listen to it.

“bro, why are we on youtube?” paige laughs, knowing full well that you pay for spotify premium.

“it’s an unreleased song, it’s not on any streaming platforms,” you explain, “which is stupid because this is top five, for sure.”

“if it’s that good, then why didn’t she release it?”

“because she wants to torture us? i don’t know, you should ask her.”

with that, she laughs again, the sound accidentally becoming the perfect introduction for the song. the light strums of the guitar and breathy vocals flow through the wired device, immediately bringing you peace. when you reach the chorus, you can’t help but hum along to the lines, the catchiness of the words pulling you into a trance. you allow yourself to fully relax against paige, closing your eyes in serenity. as the song closes, you find it hard to open your eyes back up, the strength of slumber holding you back from moving.

“wow,” paige breathes, “you were right. that was actually really good.”

she tilts her head down at you, but is met with your silent, sleeping figure. your lips were slightly parted, a light flush on your cheeks from the comforting warmth in the girl’s bedroom. 

smiling softly, paige brushes a loose hair out of your face, thumb smoothing over your cheek affectionately. she pulls the earbuds out of your ear and her’s and takes your phone from your open hand, making sure to text your parents that you would be sleeping over and would be back first thing tomorrow. 

before plugging it in to charge and shutting it off, paige takes a mental note of the song that you had played. she locates her own phone and navigates over to spotify, creating a playlist and sending an invite for you to join as a collaborator. the first two songs she added were “holy ground” and a pirated version of “need” that took way too long to find.

finally, she gently lays you down onto her bed, making sure you were propped up against the pillows and snug under the blanket. she gets herself situated next to you, careful to leave a space out of respect for your own comfort. however, as soon as she scooted under the covers, you curled up next to her, nuzzling your face in her neck and draping an arm loosely over her stomach.

the blonde freezes, eyes wide at the feeling of your body so close to her’s. color rushes to her cheeks immediately. she can’t help but stare at you - the peaceful look on your face, the way you found comfort in close proximity rather than distance.

she has the urge to pull you closer, to hug you to her chest and tell you how much you meant to her. she restrains herself, instead settling for sleep with hopes that things will be different in her dreams. 

you were oblivious to all of this, and unfortunately for the both of you, it would remain that way for years to come.

PRESENT 

you smile sadly at the memory, a wave of nostalgia overwhelming you. you missed the moments when it was just the two of you against the world. sure, you were still each other’s ride or die, maybe now more than ever, but things have definitely shifted. paige is laser-focused on basketball, something not to be disrupted. and you were working your way up to fulfilling your dream career, making new friends (and other…connections) every day.

you knew that paige would always be your best friend and that you would always be her’s, but you were both growing. you were becoming the people you spent hours under the minnesota stars talking about, the women you aspired to be since the random thoughts became real dreams.

but there was something else. it wasn’t a feeling of loss or sadness. it wasn’t a feeling of negativity at all. it was more of a lingering idea, one that was locked away but trying to escape. it was the same feeling that coursed through you whenever you were with paige - laughing, talking, smiling, everything.

for you, it was a rare, unexplainable feeling. but to paige, she knew exactly what it was. she felt it in herself everytime you were around; even sometimes when you weren’t but simply lingering in her mind. the feeling was the root of a lot of her inner conflicts. what once was a fleeting wish had become an recurring plot point. 

all of this was unbeknownst to you, and maybe it would remain that way, but you often found yourself chasing that feeling, whatever you thought it was. you searched for it in guys like derek, wondering if, one day, someone would be able to ignite it. you tried your luck with clueless boys, god bless their hearts, but you were never successful.

you began to think. maybe it was-

“y/n!” you hear, snapping you back to reality, “i’m so sorry, i got caught up with alissa and our professor held us back after class it was-“ derek sighs, “i’m sorry.”

you look up at him, searching his eyes for some sort of sign. this has happened before - him showing up late because he “lost track of time” when he was hanging out with alissa. you’re not sure why you let it slide then or why you’re somewhat accepting the excuse now.

“um, it’s fine,” you say unsure, as if you were trying to convince yourself instead of him.

he places a wet kiss on your forehead, the feeling suddenly making you nauseous, “i’m so sorry, bubba,” you had to stop yourself from visibly grimacing at the nickname. you hated it; it was so childish, so odd, “here, happy valentine’s day.”

he pulls a bouquet of flowers from behind his back, and you instantly regret not breaking up with him sooner.

“daisies?”

“yeah, i had no idea what to get you so i just asked alissa, i hope they’re okay,” he offers with a nervous rub at the back of his neck.

“okay, um, you know what? i’m sorry, i have to go,” you stand abruptly, officially sick (not just because you felt your throat getting itchy from the flowers’ pollen).

“woah, wait what?” he asks, confused, “what’s wrong?”

“derek-” you laugh in disbelief with a shake of your head, “this isn’t working, alright? i honestly don’t think it ever was.”

“what do you mean? why?” he stutters.

“you just aren’t for me and i’m not for you. i mean, you get my very simple starbucks order completely wrong, you leave me stranded here for an hour because you were with another girl, and you don’t even care enough to get to know me.”

“i know you-“

“i’m allergic to daisies, derek. i have been since i was a kid.”

he’s speechless. the whole scene is laughable.

“y/n-“

“no, it’s okay. really,” you dismiss, “it’s better this way honestly.”

he’s silent once again, not knowing what to say to fix this. another reason for you to leave.

“i really did like you,” is what he decides on. 

you offer a small, pitiful smile, “happy valentine’s day, derek.”

and then you’re gone - out the door with tears stinging your eyes. not because you’re mourning the loss of him or because your allergies were kicking in, but because you were tired of having to search the ends of the earth to find someone who simply...cared. 

you pull your phone out of your back pocket to call an uber when you see a new text from azzi.

fudd around 🫡: how’s the date going?

y/n: waited for an hour just to get daisies shoved in my face 😀

on azzi’s side, she wears a knowing smile. paige was right. of course she was.

fudd around 🫡: is he dumb

y/n: definitely

y/n: broke up w him tho!! 😜

fudd around 🫡: omg

fudd around 🫡: are u okay? want me to pick you up?

y/n: im good im in an uber rn heading back to my apt but ty

fudd around 🫡: wanna have a girls night? im getting tired of watching aubrey practicing tiktok dances

y/n: sorry az i think im just gonna doordash sum crumbl and take a nap

fudd around 🫡: no worries, lmk if you need anything! love u bby 🫂

y/n: love u too ill see yall at the game on sunday 🫶

you sigh, though it’s interrupted by a nasty cough. you groan mentally, already hating being sick. you open the crumbl app to place an order but your plan is foiled when a notification pops up.

sorry, this location has closed early due to the holidays!

as if your day couldn’t get any worse.

meanwhile, azzi was frantically throwing on a hoodie and slipping on a pair of uggs to rush over to paige’s dorm. she almost bangs the door down upon arrival.

“bro, hello? are you insane?” the blonde asks as she opens the door.

“they broke up,” she says simply.

“who?”

azzi was wondering if paige got a concussion at practice, “are you slow? who do you think?”

and, of course, it still takes a second for the realization to come, “oh shit,” paige says finally.

“what’re you gonna do?” the brunette asks.

“um, i don’t know, do you want me to throw a party?” she says sarcastically, though she's genuinely lost.

“holy shit, paige,” she deadpans.

“what??”

“go talk to her! get her flowers, comfort her, tell her how you feel!”

paige shakes her head immediately, “no, no. i can’t, you know i can’t.”

“why not? it’s now or never, p.”

“you so dramatic.”

“i’m trying to help you! now are you gonna man up or do you need me to do all the work for you?”

“okay, i got it, damn,” the blonde muttered with a scowl.

“good,” azzi noted, beginning to walk away but not before turning to paige on last time, “don’t mess this up.”

———

you were all cuddled up in your bed - a fuzzy blanket wrapped snugly around your figure, surrounded by different stuffed animals you had collected throughout your life.

you were in the middle of a romcom marathon - "10 things i hate about you," "27 dresses," "13 going on 30," you were always attracted to movies that had numbers in the title for some reason. 

currently, you were watching andie anderson and ben barry sing a drunken version of "you're so vain" as they publicly argue about the lies their relationship was built on. pure cinema.

a small smile was growing on your face as you the scene progressed, knowing an indirect love confession was on the way. however, your peace was interrupted when you heard the ring of your doorbell. 

with furrowed eyebrows, you check your phone. no texts or calls and your fast food order was still about twenty minutes away. you peer out your window, the sun had already started to set and you assumed everyone was settled in their dorms or - ugh - coupled up with their partners elsewhere.

sighing, you roll out of bed, put on your bunny slippers, and head for the front door of your apartment. without checking the peephole, you swing the door open, expecting a delivery of some sort that you needed to sign off on.

you were wrong.

"hey."

it's paige, holding a bouquet of different colored tulips in one hand and a small gift bag in the other.

"paige? what are you doing here?"

"um," she starts nervously, "i heard about the breakup and i just wanted to come over. y'know make sure you're good and shit, so..."

you grin at her shyness, this side of paige being one that only came out around you. 

"azzi?" you ask, referring to how she found out.

"azzi."

you laugh lightly, "thank you for all this," you nod, "you really didn't have to."

"i wanted to," paige shrugs, her cheeks lightly flushed with pink.

"you wanna come in?" you ask as you step aside to let her into your apartment.

"thanks," she says, as if she hasn't been here hundreds of times before. she knows it's different this time, though. "these are for you, by the way."

she hands you the bag and flowers with her perfect smile - a sight that any girl would go to war for.

"thanks, p," you beamed, reaching inside the paper bag to find a small stuffed bunny and boxed cookie. 

you inhaled the sweet scent of the tulips and felt the softness of the miniature bunny (you could've sworn it smelled a little bit like paige's perfume). you were particularly excited about the pink box containing the sweet treat you had been craving all day.

"how did you even get this? i thought they closed early today," you question.

"there was one open on the other side of town so i just picked it up there," she expressed as if it were no big deal.

"bro," you deadpan, "the other side of town? you drove all the way over there for one cookie?"

"it's nothin', promise," she dismisses, "and you're actually sharing that with me so it's a win-win."

"right," you nod as if that was an obvious fact.

"and the tulips - i figured derek prob'ly got you some stupid shit so i got your favorites."

god, she really did know you so well.

all you have to do is nod slowly for her to understand.

"daisies?"

"daisies," you confirm.

you stare at each other for a second then simultaneously break out into laughter. 

"hey, at least he's gone now," she points out.

"yeah, thank god," you giggled.

"and you've always got me," she added.

"always," you agree before setting down the gifts and pulling the blonde into a tight hug.

she instantly relaxes against you, instinctively wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her cheek on your shoulder. you threw your arms around her neck and slightly lifted yourself on your tip-toes due to the height difference.

"thank you, paige," you mumble into her hair with the utmost sincerity.

"always, y/n," she reaffirmed in a soft whisper, "always."

still wrapped in each other's arms, paige recognizes the voices echoing from your bedroom.

"is that..." she lifts her head to eye you suspiciously.

"um...maybe..."

"you gotta start it over," she says, fully pulling out of the hug to shuffle over to your room.

"but it's already almost done!"

"don't care, wanna watch," she chimed, already flopping onto your mattress.

you shake your head with a laugh, watching her search for your remote in the mountain of throw pillows, stuffed toys, and blankets. 

you first move to place the tulips in a vase, but not before snapping a picture of its original arrangement. following that, you pick up the stuffed bunny and hold it above your bunny slippers - they're practically identical - and take a picture of that as well.

"dude, where the hell is your remote?" paige huffs, "you got a whole ecosystem over here, it's like mining for gold."

chuckling, you bring yourself and the bunny over to your room, grabbing the remote that rested on your bedside table.

"oh."

"aren't you supposed to have full court vision or something? eyes in the back of your head?" you tease, settling next to her.

"i do. trust," she retorted with a playful glare.

"mhm..." you hum skeptically.

"man, whatever," she scoffs, but you could tell she wasn't angry from the way she almost immediately wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to her.

with an airy laugh, you snuggle next to her, wrapping your arms around her torso and leaning your head on her chest, rewinding the movie to the very beginning.

------

"top ten movie of all time, for sure," paige sighs happily as the end credits roll out accompanied by a shot of the new york city skyline.

"only top ten? i'd argue top five."

"i'd put it at six," she says, "but the number five pick is reserved for 'love and basketball.'"

"what's that?"

"are you serious?" she deadpans, head snapping to look down at you. 

"uh yeah? i've never heard of it," you shrug, innocently scrolling through you instagram feed.

"oh i have failed you," she says in disbelief, "you and the basketball community."

you freeze, getting a sense of déjà vu. you're immediately taken back to your senior year of high school, when you had said the exact same thing upon finding out about paige's lack of exposure to your favorite music artist. full circle, truly.

"hellooo?" the blonde taunts, waving a hand in front of your face, "you good?"

"yeah, sorry - zoned out," you explain, "what'd you say?"

"can you hand me the remote so i can put it on?" she repeats softly.

wordlessly, you give her the device, but your mind is still caught up in another wave of nostalgia. it was the second time today that you were overwhelmed by familiarity, specifically regarding your best friend.

it got you thinking...was she really your best friend? that was always what you labeled your bond with the girl: best friends. since childhood.

but maybe there was more to it. you always believed that romantic relationships should be built on unspoken, irreplaceable understandings - the kind that had to be crafted over time, as opposed to sparked or forced overnight. you hated how you spent your early twenties in different situationships and talking stages like you were still in high school. you hated it, yes, but you now know that all of it was necessary for your better understanding, your growth.

you cared for the little things: things that mattered most but didn't warrant attention, things that became inside jokes or symbols of your relationship, things that would be remembered and saved for wedding vows. you cared for someone that knew you inside and out, backwards and forwards, upside down and rightside up.

then it hits you.

all the knowing glances, natural habits, quiet moments, embraced routines - all the things you had spent your whole life searching for - it was undeniably paige.

“hey, are you okay?” her soft voice coaxes you back to reality.

your focus should be on the movie playing on your tv, but instead it was on the light absentminded brush of paige’s fingers against your arm. it’s not enough. it’s too much.

you sit up suddenly, tucking away a loose piece of hair that had fallen in your face. you stared into the distance, your heart rate quickening the way it had around paige so many times before. now you know what that feeling is. that one feeling that you could never quite put your finger on. 

fuck.

“y/n,” you hear her voice again, this time more worried, “what’s wrong?” you hear her shuffle for the remote to pause the movie.

you struggle to find words, tears stinging your eyes. you cover your face in embarrassment, not wanting her to see your sudden breakdown.

“y/n, talk to me,” she persists. you feel her hand at the small of your back in an attempt to comfort you. when you still don’t respond, she takes your hands away from your face and into her own, a silent statement saying that she’s listening. that she cares.

finally, you speak at a low volume, “i’m scared, paige.”

“scared? of what?” she asks, immensely confused.

you were scared of what this meant for you, your friendship with the girl, everything.

in an almost inaudible whisper, “i think i’m in love with you.”

silence. no one moves. no one breathes.

“what?” her voice cracks.

“i think i’m-“ you begin to repeat, moreso for yourself than her.

“no, i heard you,” she interrupts, “but what do you mean?”

you stand up abruptly, paige following you into your living room. you’re shaking, head light as you’re overwhelmed by the realization.

“y/n, please,” she pleads, voice cracking once again. why?

“paige, i-“ you take a breath, “i’m sorry…”

“sorry? why are you sorry?”

“i don’t know what this is gonna do to our friendship or to me or you - i don’t know what to do,” you ramble as a single tear rolls onto your cheek.

“hold on for a sec,” paige interjects, stopping your pacing as she steps in front of you, hands on your shoulders steadying you, her chest heaving like it’s hard for her to breathe, “you love me?”

you sigh, a frown on your face, “yeah…i do.”

she exhales as if she had been holding her breath for ages. her hands have now moved up to the nape of your neck, ghosting over your skin carefully, “say it.”

“what?”

“say it,” she repeats, searching your eyes. her breaths are heavy - like she’s running out of oxygen and your words fill her lungs.

somehow, the two of you went from being multiple feet apart to a mere few inches apart. she’s looking down at you; you feel her eyes scan your face - eyes, lips, back to your eyes.

you hesitate, gazing into her daring blue eyes.

and then.

“i love you.”

the distance is closed. gone as if it was never there. 

the feeling of her lips on yours feels like an apology from the universe for keeping you apart for so long. the kiss is slow, delicate. it shocked you at first, your lips unmoving, but you settle into the softness of it. 

her hands move to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer while you wrap your arms around her neck. it’s familiar, mimicking the hug you two shared just a few hours earlier. you can almost feel the strong beat of her heart against your chest, and you’re sure she can feel yours. it was the feeling of two hearts falling in love.

when you pull apart after what felt like hours, your eyes remain closed, as if this is all a dream that you were scared to wake up from. you still feel paige's lips ghosting over yours. your eyes open when she speaks up.

“i’ve waited years, y/n,” she whispers, “years.”

“really?” a stupid question, honestly, but you didn’t know what else to say.

“you think i would lie about that?” she laughs, the sound infectious.

the girl pulls you into a hug, your head buried in her chest with her arms wrapped tightly around you. 

“i love you,” she says with a sweet kiss to your head.

you let out a sigh of relief. it feels like a weight lifted off of your shoulder, the pit in your stomach gone. she made it all go away.

there’s still levels of uncertainty, questions to be answered, things to be established. for a moment - and only for a moment - you thought about the complications. but when you gaze up at the blonde and she smiles at you like you're her world, none of that mattered. 

the way she held you, cared for you, looked at you, kissed you - you wanted it more than everything in between.