Post by Willow Pratt on Jul 4, 2023 20:20:36 GMT
The whooshing, shuddering noise of Netflix’s start-up sequence was a soothing balm to Willow’s frayed nerves, the echoing DUN-DUN almost too loud in the silence of the second floor. It seems like she's always on edge lately, and she didn't want to point her finger at her new boyfriend, but the symptoms started about a month ago, shortly after their first date.
The house was almost too quiet. Leon was spending the evening with Rose (an utterly predictable move) and her parents were downstairs in the living room catching up on a new sitcom they’d started the week before, the volume a mere whisper if she strained her ears hard enough. She didn’t, instead snuggling in tighter to her duvet and tucking her ivory stuffed bunny to her chest. Her name was Elsie, a soft pink bow at the base of her left ear the only thing hinting at her presumed gender. Leon had picked her out for Willow’s first Christmas. It was a miracle she wasn’t in tatters after sixteen years of relentless love, but her mother was a seamstress as much as a doctor to her fuzzy friend when she was in need of tending. Willow blinked down at the black, glassy eyes of her bunny now, stroking her finger around the bead as she recalled the way Jamie had teased her for sleeping with a stuffed animal at her age. She’d blushed, holding the white rabbit closer as she defended herself. Jamie had been all smiles, fingers soft as they crept toward her chest to try to steal the bunny away. Willow had curled in tighter, throwing herself on her side and Jamie was quick to follow, tickling her sides and prying her arms away until she could hold Elsie herself. She turned the bunny left to right with absurd care, inspecting her in a way that had Willow stifling her giggles. It was their first time visiting Willow’s house. It was after Eva had left, before Sophie would leave. Lottie and Sophie were curiously silent, idly watching from their seats on the bubblegum-colored bean bag chair that still held room for one more. It wasn’t like Jamie to light up, to flash teeth and be playful, but with Willow, it was like she was someone else. Lottie had mentioned it to her once, the other girls were in the cafeteria line to get lunch. Willow and Lottie had brought their own, Willow’s mom always packing her something homemade and Lottie refused to even entertain the thought of eating anything made in the school’s kitchen. She’d glanced at Willow, catching her staring at their friends before admitting that Jamie had never been soft with anyone the way she was with Willow. She’d turned to the blonde then, tilting her head to the side and waiting for her to explain, and after a moment, she did. ”With you, she’s just, I don’t know, calm—I guess. Like she can just let go. I thought I was her safe spot, but it’s you. It’s nice,” and then she’d shrugged, turning back to her food as the girls joined them. Willow had blinked at Jamie, trying to see what Lottie was seeing but it was impossible to tell who Jamie was when Willow wasn’t around. It hadn’t always been this way. Jamie had been guarded when they first met, but Willow didn’t think she could count that as a fair assessment. Willow isn't who she’d been when she’d moved here. No longer was she cold and rude and rash. She was soft and sweet and caring. Polar opposites. She’d found herself again with the help of her friends.
”I suppose if you’re going to sleep with a stuffed animal, at least it’s not an embarrassing one,” Jamie had teased, handing Elsie back to Willow and the corner of her lips had lifted as Willow smoothed down her ears and set her back on her designated pillow. Willow had batted her lashes at her, huffing like she was known to do and murmuring some defense she couldn’t remember now—but she hadn’t been embarrassed. Jamie hadn’t made her feel bad. She was safe and warm and made Willow’s stomach churn and skin buzz. Jamie’s fingerprints burned on her skin from where she’d touched her, a lingering heat that had Willow pressing her legs together and pulling the hemming of her skirt down.
Jamie was different from Adam.
”How fucking lame. You still sleep with a stuffed animal?” Adam’s voice was deep and cruel as he held up Elsie by one arm, brows creased with disgust as he threw her recklessly back on the bed, ”I thought you were mature, baby. You told me you were a woman and could handle me. You didn’t lie to me, right? Because I don’t want a little girl, Willow.” Her eyes had watered, hands trembling and skin crawling as she tucked Elsie out of sight and promised her boyfriend that it was just a gift, and her brother would be upset if she threw it away. He’d rolled his eyes, dropping himself on her bed and pulling her to his side. His hands wandered and she squirmed, his palm like a brand as it rested on her waist, a heat so scalding she wanted to whimper in pain. She tangled her legs together to keep his fingers from dipping beneath her waistband, tugging her shirt down when he’d lift it. He was just experienced, and she was nervous, that was all. She wasn’t afraid of her boyfriend.
Her body shook with excitement, not nerves when he stepped up to her and her kisses were short because she didn’t like PDA, not because vomit stung the back of her throat with each press of lips. She liked Adam. She had to like Adam.
She couldn’t risk the alternative.
Willow wasn’t sure when her crush on Jamie developed, but it wasn’t long after Eva returned to France. She’d finally been able to accept who she was and who she was attracted to and Jamie—God, Jamie. She was perfect and Willow didn’t want to say she was in love, but she did love her friend. She’d tried convincing herself she was just confusing the emotions, that she was crossing wires with this new self-discovery, but she didn’t look at Lottie and swoon. She didn’t lean into Sophie’s touch and wish it lasted a moment longer. It was just Jamie and Willow couldn’t. To risk was to lose and she would rather die than admit her feelings.
If Jamie left… if she couldn’t handle being around Willow knowing her feelings for her—she didn’t know what she’d do.
So she shoved it down, she found a distraction in Adam. She moved on because she had to.
Besides… Jamie had Murphy.
Willow’s nose scrunched up at the thought, stomach rolling as she scrolled through Netflix’s suggested movies. Why Murphy? Of all people, why him? He was mean and cruel and so crass. He wasn’t nice and Jamie, she…she deserved better than that. A sigh escaped her then, lungs deflating in a defeating breath of air billowing across her glossy lips. It wasn’t her place and it’s not like Jamie has been willing to spare many details about her new budding relationship. She cuddled deeper into her baby pink blanket; Elsie tucked just a little closer as she landed on Titanic. She’d lost count of how many times she’d watched the film, finding comfort in the doomed romance—it had recently become a little too relatable. Ever since Jamie grew close to Murphy, she’d been different around Willow. More hesitant and reluctant to touch her. She feared maybe Jamie was onto her, that’s why she’d sought out a boyfriend.
Adam was meant to be a step forward, but all Willow could see was the ways he wasn’t Jamie. Sophie was gone and Lottie was distancing herself from them and Leon was busy and Jamie was almost always with Murphy and all Willow had left with was Adam and the reminder of how different he was from who she wanted. When he touched her, she couldn’t help but compare the chill of discomfort to the warmth of affection when it was the red-head beauty’s fingers tiptoeing along her sides in a playful manner. When she laid beside him, she couldn’t help but squirm away, his searching hands nothing compared to the soft body beside her as they bickered over which film to watch.
This crush was all consuming. It really was going to be the death of her.
Willow startled when her phone buzzed on her nightstand, eyes tearing from the screen she’d been blurrily watching to reach for it. She half expected it to be Leon letting her know he was going to be spending the night. If it wasn’t hypocritical, she’d have teased him to finally own up to his feelings already and just kiss the girl, but Willow’s teasing has begun to lessen the more she wallowed in her own yearning. It didn’t feel fair to mess with her older brother when she couldn’t take her own advice—not that Leon had any inkling as to what she was really going through. Maybe if she confided in him… Maybe if he led by example and closed the gap between him and Rose, she’d be strong enough to do the same. She didn’t think her brother would disown her for being bi, she didn’t think it would even phase him, but Willow… she just couldn’t get the words out. She wasn’t ashamed, but there was something keeping her from outing herself just yet. Perhaps it was fear, worried how her female friends would react if they learned she was attracted to girls.
But it wasn’t Leon, instead Jamie’s name flashed across her screen with a new text message waiting.
The flush that tinted her cheeks was embarrassing but no one would ever see it.
Her heart fluttered at the short message, the nickname (bubs) making her toes curl and she felt so silly.
She hadn't even considered it could be Adam reaching out.
Willow tapped away at her screen, texting back and forth with Jamie and her stomach erupting in butterflies as her friend asked to come over because the party hadn’t been all she had hoped. She glanced at the clock in the top right corner of her phone, reading that it was nearly ten. If Jamie came over… she’d spend the night. With a quick look around her room, Willow paused the movie and crawled out of her nest to pick up her mess. Her stray clothes were tucked away in their bin and her homework was shoved haphazardly into her bag. Everything was shoved into its place in moments. Her plants swayed in the dim glow of her fairy lights, the pink and white and green accents of her decor and furniture accentuating the girliness she’d fallen back into. Her little emo stint had faded months ago, femininity creeping back into her style naturally. With a fluttering twirl, she gave her room another once over before snagging her phone and settling on the edge of her bed.
The messages flew back and forth, and Willow was a little worried about her friend texting and driving, but she knew Jamie would only look away from the road when it was safe. She couldn’t keep the disappointment from her tone as she learned Murphy was with her, but Jamie seemed to overlook it, promising that she would be on her way over with the snacks. It had to mean something that after the party she chose to drop him off and visit Willow instead of going home.
It was dangerous to think that way.
Downstairs, she double checked with her parents that it was okay Jamie came over so late and they waved her worries off, promising the girl had a home here whenever she needed. It made her heart warm knowing her parents cared so deeply for their children’s friendships—if they only knew their kids were helplessly falling for their best friends.
The last popped kernel of popcorn had just settled in the bowl when her phone dinged with Jamie’s arrival text. It was impossible to keep the giddiness from her face as she all but skipped to the door, a sprinkling of popcorn scattering as she came to a stop and smoothed down her pajamas with her free hand. They were a silky set, light pink in color—the top had white lace around the V-neck and the shorts flashed skin with every step.
Pulling the door open, she beamed up at her taller friend, hoping that with everything in her Jamie couldn’t see the shape of her heart with how hard it was beating against her chest. “Hey, Mie-mie,” she welcomed, eyes dropping to the bag of snacks in her grip (totally, absolutely not sparing a second too long on the shape of her chest—no, she wasn’t blushing) and she made grabby hands at the bag, knowing that Jamie got her gummy worms even after complaining about how sugar made her act.
“Gimme, gimme. It’s past my bedtime and I need sugar,” she pleaded, lip stuck in a pout as she raised her puppy dog eyes up to Jamie’s unimpressed ones. They both knew it was a lie. Willow went to bed when the sun peeked on the horizon more often than not. Those late night movie binges with Sophie had swapped her clock. No one really knew how she could have so much energy running on so little sleep.
“Please,” she dragged out the ‘e’ sound, and her father laughed from the living room—a soft smack and a light ‘ow’ echoing after her mother must have hit him with a pillow, whispering to leave them be.
The house was almost too quiet. Leon was spending the evening with Rose (an utterly predictable move) and her parents were downstairs in the living room catching up on a new sitcom they’d started the week before, the volume a mere whisper if she strained her ears hard enough. She didn’t, instead snuggling in tighter to her duvet and tucking her ivory stuffed bunny to her chest. Her name was Elsie, a soft pink bow at the base of her left ear the only thing hinting at her presumed gender. Leon had picked her out for Willow’s first Christmas. It was a miracle she wasn’t in tatters after sixteen years of relentless love, but her mother was a seamstress as much as a doctor to her fuzzy friend when she was in need of tending. Willow blinked down at the black, glassy eyes of her bunny now, stroking her finger around the bead as she recalled the way Jamie had teased her for sleeping with a stuffed animal at her age. She’d blushed, holding the white rabbit closer as she defended herself. Jamie had been all smiles, fingers soft as they crept toward her chest to try to steal the bunny away. Willow had curled in tighter, throwing herself on her side and Jamie was quick to follow, tickling her sides and prying her arms away until she could hold Elsie herself. She turned the bunny left to right with absurd care, inspecting her in a way that had Willow stifling her giggles. It was their first time visiting Willow’s house. It was after Eva had left, before Sophie would leave. Lottie and Sophie were curiously silent, idly watching from their seats on the bubblegum-colored bean bag chair that still held room for one more. It wasn’t like Jamie to light up, to flash teeth and be playful, but with Willow, it was like she was someone else. Lottie had mentioned it to her once, the other girls were in the cafeteria line to get lunch. Willow and Lottie had brought their own, Willow’s mom always packing her something homemade and Lottie refused to even entertain the thought of eating anything made in the school’s kitchen. She’d glanced at Willow, catching her staring at their friends before admitting that Jamie had never been soft with anyone the way she was with Willow. She’d turned to the blonde then, tilting her head to the side and waiting for her to explain, and after a moment, she did. ”With you, she’s just, I don’t know, calm—I guess. Like she can just let go. I thought I was her safe spot, but it’s you. It’s nice,” and then she’d shrugged, turning back to her food as the girls joined them. Willow had blinked at Jamie, trying to see what Lottie was seeing but it was impossible to tell who Jamie was when Willow wasn’t around. It hadn’t always been this way. Jamie had been guarded when they first met, but Willow didn’t think she could count that as a fair assessment. Willow isn't who she’d been when she’d moved here. No longer was she cold and rude and rash. She was soft and sweet and caring. Polar opposites. She’d found herself again with the help of her friends.
”I suppose if you’re going to sleep with a stuffed animal, at least it’s not an embarrassing one,” Jamie had teased, handing Elsie back to Willow and the corner of her lips had lifted as Willow smoothed down her ears and set her back on her designated pillow. Willow had batted her lashes at her, huffing like she was known to do and murmuring some defense she couldn’t remember now—but she hadn’t been embarrassed. Jamie hadn’t made her feel bad. She was safe and warm and made Willow’s stomach churn and skin buzz. Jamie’s fingerprints burned on her skin from where she’d touched her, a lingering heat that had Willow pressing her legs together and pulling the hemming of her skirt down.
Jamie was different from Adam.
”How fucking lame. You still sleep with a stuffed animal?” Adam’s voice was deep and cruel as he held up Elsie by one arm, brows creased with disgust as he threw her recklessly back on the bed, ”I thought you were mature, baby. You told me you were a woman and could handle me. You didn’t lie to me, right? Because I don’t want a little girl, Willow.” Her eyes had watered, hands trembling and skin crawling as she tucked Elsie out of sight and promised her boyfriend that it was just a gift, and her brother would be upset if she threw it away. He’d rolled his eyes, dropping himself on her bed and pulling her to his side. His hands wandered and she squirmed, his palm like a brand as it rested on her waist, a heat so scalding she wanted to whimper in pain. She tangled her legs together to keep his fingers from dipping beneath her waistband, tugging her shirt down when he’d lift it. He was just experienced, and she was nervous, that was all. She wasn’t afraid of her boyfriend.
Her body shook with excitement, not nerves when he stepped up to her and her kisses were short because she didn’t like PDA, not because vomit stung the back of her throat with each press of lips. She liked Adam. She had to like Adam.
She couldn’t risk the alternative.
Willow wasn’t sure when her crush on Jamie developed, but it wasn’t long after Eva returned to France. She’d finally been able to accept who she was and who she was attracted to and Jamie—God, Jamie. She was perfect and Willow didn’t want to say she was in love, but she did love her friend. She’d tried convincing herself she was just confusing the emotions, that she was crossing wires with this new self-discovery, but she didn’t look at Lottie and swoon. She didn’t lean into Sophie’s touch and wish it lasted a moment longer. It was just Jamie and Willow couldn’t. To risk was to lose and she would rather die than admit her feelings.
If Jamie left… if she couldn’t handle being around Willow knowing her feelings for her—she didn’t know what she’d do.
So she shoved it down, she found a distraction in Adam. She moved on because she had to.
Besides… Jamie had Murphy.
Willow’s nose scrunched up at the thought, stomach rolling as she scrolled through Netflix’s suggested movies. Why Murphy? Of all people, why him? He was mean and cruel and so crass. He wasn’t nice and Jamie, she…she deserved better than that. A sigh escaped her then, lungs deflating in a defeating breath of air billowing across her glossy lips. It wasn’t her place and it’s not like Jamie has been willing to spare many details about her new budding relationship. She cuddled deeper into her baby pink blanket; Elsie tucked just a little closer as she landed on Titanic. She’d lost count of how many times she’d watched the film, finding comfort in the doomed romance—it had recently become a little too relatable. Ever since Jamie grew close to Murphy, she’d been different around Willow. More hesitant and reluctant to touch her. She feared maybe Jamie was onto her, that’s why she’d sought out a boyfriend.
Adam was meant to be a step forward, but all Willow could see was the ways he wasn’t Jamie. Sophie was gone and Lottie was distancing herself from them and Leon was busy and Jamie was almost always with Murphy and all Willow had left with was Adam and the reminder of how different he was from who she wanted. When he touched her, she couldn’t help but compare the chill of discomfort to the warmth of affection when it was the red-head beauty’s fingers tiptoeing along her sides in a playful manner. When she laid beside him, she couldn’t help but squirm away, his searching hands nothing compared to the soft body beside her as they bickered over which film to watch.
This crush was all consuming. It really was going to be the death of her.
Willow startled when her phone buzzed on her nightstand, eyes tearing from the screen she’d been blurrily watching to reach for it. She half expected it to be Leon letting her know he was going to be spending the night. If it wasn’t hypocritical, she’d have teased him to finally own up to his feelings already and just kiss the girl, but Willow’s teasing has begun to lessen the more she wallowed in her own yearning. It didn’t feel fair to mess with her older brother when she couldn’t take her own advice—not that Leon had any inkling as to what she was really going through. Maybe if she confided in him… Maybe if he led by example and closed the gap between him and Rose, she’d be strong enough to do the same. She didn’t think her brother would disown her for being bi, she didn’t think it would even phase him, but Willow… she just couldn’t get the words out. She wasn’t ashamed, but there was something keeping her from outing herself just yet. Perhaps it was fear, worried how her female friends would react if they learned she was attracted to girls.
But it wasn’t Leon, instead Jamie’s name flashed across her screen with a new text message waiting.
The flush that tinted her cheeks was embarrassing but no one would ever see it.
Her heart fluttered at the short message, the nickname (bubs) making her toes curl and she felt so silly.
She hadn't even considered it could be Adam reaching out.
Willow tapped away at her screen, texting back and forth with Jamie and her stomach erupting in butterflies as her friend asked to come over because the party hadn’t been all she had hoped. She glanced at the clock in the top right corner of her phone, reading that it was nearly ten. If Jamie came over… she’d spend the night. With a quick look around her room, Willow paused the movie and crawled out of her nest to pick up her mess. Her stray clothes were tucked away in their bin and her homework was shoved haphazardly into her bag. Everything was shoved into its place in moments. Her plants swayed in the dim glow of her fairy lights, the pink and white and green accents of her decor and furniture accentuating the girliness she’d fallen back into. Her little emo stint had faded months ago, femininity creeping back into her style naturally. With a fluttering twirl, she gave her room another once over before snagging her phone and settling on the edge of her bed.
The messages flew back and forth, and Willow was a little worried about her friend texting and driving, but she knew Jamie would only look away from the road when it was safe. She couldn’t keep the disappointment from her tone as she learned Murphy was with her, but Jamie seemed to overlook it, promising that she would be on her way over with the snacks. It had to mean something that after the party she chose to drop him off and visit Willow instead of going home.
It was dangerous to think that way.
Downstairs, she double checked with her parents that it was okay Jamie came over so late and they waved her worries off, promising the girl had a home here whenever she needed. It made her heart warm knowing her parents cared so deeply for their children’s friendships—if they only knew their kids were helplessly falling for their best friends.
The last popped kernel of popcorn had just settled in the bowl when her phone dinged with Jamie’s arrival text. It was impossible to keep the giddiness from her face as she all but skipped to the door, a sprinkling of popcorn scattering as she came to a stop and smoothed down her pajamas with her free hand. They were a silky set, light pink in color—the top had white lace around the V-neck and the shorts flashed skin with every step.
Pulling the door open, she beamed up at her taller friend, hoping that with everything in her Jamie couldn’t see the shape of her heart with how hard it was beating against her chest. “Hey, Mie-mie,” she welcomed, eyes dropping to the bag of snacks in her grip (totally, absolutely not sparing a second too long on the shape of her chest—no, she wasn’t blushing) and she made grabby hands at the bag, knowing that Jamie got her gummy worms even after complaining about how sugar made her act.
“Gimme, gimme. It’s past my bedtime and I need sugar,” she pleaded, lip stuck in a pout as she raised her puppy dog eyes up to Jamie’s unimpressed ones. They both knew it was a lie. Willow went to bed when the sun peeked on the horizon more often than not. Those late night movie binges with Sophie had swapped her clock. No one really knew how she could have so much energy running on so little sleep.
“Please,” she dragged out the ‘e’ sound, and her father laughed from the living room—a soft smack and a light ‘ow’ echoing after her mother must have hit him with a pillow, whispering to leave them be.