#sebigail

Growing up their friendship was natural, Abigail as a more outspoken, loud quirky type, already with bright purple hair at the age of thirteen, and Sebastian as the softer, quieter weird type, who, also at thirteen, wore nothing but black. But Abigail’s smile and weird enthusiasm over videogames drew him in, hooked him into a weird friendship, into years of shouting over videogames, laughing over Solarian Chronicles, teasing over pool at the bar.

Little changed between them over the years, yet everything did.

They grew up, school became college and work, playdates became nights at the saloon and city trips, and their innocent childhood friendship became town gossip of something more. After all, there had to be. Right? They were almost inseparable, always hung out around town – well, with Sam but he had his own things, with Penny, and Vince, plus the whole thing with his dad. It didn’t help that all of the town’s singletons were seemingly paired off and trying to be set up by the older residents, well, mostly the gossips and the shifty mayor.

So, why wouldn’t they play along? Keep their parents off their backs from the ‘when are you going to find that special someone?’ type of questions muddled together with other life questions. It became easier to play along that to go against the force.

He’d leave, say he’s going to Abby’s, and actually go. Her door forced half open just to be sure nothing was going on for her parents’ sake, not that there would. Abby would do his nails, some shitty true crime documentary on in the background, and they’d dye each other’s hair. It was then, hair matted to his forehead in ink black dye, Abby’s soft hands in his hair, looking at her in the mirror watching her laugh and giggle over their stupid shitty jokes, that he realised maybe, maybe there was something more there, something a little less platonic.

Sebastian would never say anything, ruining their friendship would be the last thing he wanted to do, but he couldn’t help noticing things that he hadn’t bothered to before. The soft crinkles at the corners of her eyes when she genuinely smiles, the way her bright hair curls and kinks in the rain, her rough and brash nature becoming more intriguing than pure appreciation.

Then it’s not quite pretending anymore, is it? At least, not on his part. Soft, sideways glances when she’s not looking, the gentle smile on his lips whenever she does something stupid. Sebastian realises, in the dead of night, that, yeah, he’s a little in love with Abigail now. And he’s in too deep to stop this pretending, to break it off would arise questions and, well, it would break his heart to not get to see Abby so much on this personal level. But tell her and break her heart in another way? He could never.

So, he kept it inside, as much as he could.

Except Sebastian is a complete and utter dumbass. Abigail has known for years now, her friend can miss hints like bricks to the face, invites to her house when she’s home alone, time just the two of them out and about – “Like a date?” “Sure”. But how dense can one man really be? A man who is so smart, intelligent, and clever, yet a complete social idiot that it kind of makes Abby want to punch him in his pretty face.

She’s tried and tried for years, from her silly schoolgirl crush to her awkward hormonal teenage fascination, now to this softer love for this boy she has watched become a man, always by her side no matter what. Yet, she has to resort to what always gets her way – brute force and honesty.

She waits for him one evening near the lake beside his house which isn’t unusual, her flute abandoned in her lap serving only to occupy her nervous hands. She had to tell him, she cannot keep it a secret inside of her for much longer, it will drive her insane, but would it not be more vexing to tell him and not only receive rejection but to lose him altogether. Abby knows, logically, she won’t lose him, not completely, but ruining their current relationship, their movie and makeover nights, their late night cemetery walks, their ventures alone into the surface of the mines, she might miss that more than anything else she has to gain from telling him the truth.

It’s too late though, the door to the carpenter’s closes loudly into the silent night, the faint click of a lighter letting her know it’s Sebastian.

“Finally,” she breathes out, faux exasperation clear in her voice, “you must have better places to be than with me.”

He laughs, soft and gentle, genuine, under his breath in a way she’s become accustomed to.

“You know that’s not true, you’re like one of my only friends, and we know Sam’s scared of the dark,” he says, sitting similarly crossed legged next to her, face light up by the soft glow of his cigarette, “but don’t tell him I said that.”

The word friend hit her confidence a little, knowing just what is at stake. Yet, she’s come this far to ask him here, no questions asked, in the dead of night, the least she can do is be honest, right?

“You’re real stupid, you know that?” she starts, lips quirked up at the edges.

He glances at her out of the side of his eye, one eyebrow raised before he rolls his eyes, he huffs, “and here I thought you were going to tell me something important and unknown.”

Any other time Abby might have laughed – might have, she doesn’t want to give him the idea that he’s hilarious after all, it might go to his head – but this time she doesn’t, instead she watches him watching the slow ripples in the mostly still lake. A breath out of smoke every so often and that really shouldn’t be so distracting for her, she’s spent many a night wondering about his oral fascinations in more ways than one.

She pushes some of her hair out of her face only for the slight wind to push it back across her field of vision which, honestly, is kind of rude when she’s trying to have a moment here.

“Hush you, it’s important in the unknown conversation,” she continues, trying to play it off cool but something in her voice faulters and Sebastian looks at her, properly looks at her, and realises this might be serious enough to turn his body to face her but not serious enough to put his cig out.

“You’re stupid and a dumbass and so socially inept that it seems impossible to even try to get you to notice what I want you to, and I really hope I’m making sense and not just making a fool of myself because that would be real stupid too, but you miss it all, all my hints and flirting, well, maybe my flirting isn’t that good but I fucking put on a dress and danced for you, with you, Jesus, Seb did you really think I was just inviting you round mine late at night when my parents weren’t in for videogames? I mean, don’t get me wrong I like that, and I wouldn’t change our friendship for anything but… but maybe I want something more and maybe it’s stupid of me to think that but… I like you, Sebastian, I really, really like you.”

She finishes her speech with a loud breath out, a pink flush on her cheeks that has nothing to do with the weather, and her eyes downcast, more interested in the grass that her best friend whose eyes pierce into her very soul.

“Ok, so maybe I’m stupid,” Sebastian finally says after what seems like an eon, “but maybe I didn’t want to ruin this either, you know, us, I think I’d rather have pined for you for life than lose you as my super kickass best friend. I thought if I kept it inside, I could keep you forever, even if it wasn’t how I wanted and, well, maybe I thought it was wishful thinking and then, unsurprisingly, overthinking that made it all seem one sided. But I, uh, I really like you too.”

Abby lets out a breath she doesn’t realise she was holding, finally looking back at him. He looks, for lack of better words, stunning. Cig stubbed out against the bottom of his shoe at some point, dark hair having fallen over his face casting a shadow over his skin which is brightly pale in the moonlight, his cheeks tinged pink and lips wet no doubt from nervous licking. And she has never wanted to kiss him more now than ever before.

“So, we’re both idiots then?” she asks, laughing more out of nerves than anything else.

“Yeah,” he says, softly, “guess we’re both idiots, though I don’t think I’ll ever hear you say that ever again.”

“What that I really like you?” she says, nothing but faux innocence.

So, he does as he always does; sighs and then rolls his eyes. Then, he does as he never has before; he leans in, and down, and captures her lips with his own, tenderly and warmly. And she could definitely get used to this, cool fingers on her cheek, and the smirk she feels against her lips.

Sebastian pulls back, his smile gentle and eyes unworried in a way she hasn’t quite seen in a while, “no, that you’re also an idiot.”

She snorts, eyebrows furrowing and nose twitching, and she shoves him away a little too hard to be completely playful and he lands back with a winded sound but he laughs.

“Idiot.”

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