packs aren't always of the same species (a WayHaught au)

marked

It felt like the walls were closing in and your chest was taking the brunt of it all, sure it would cave in any minute from the pressure building there. You weren't sure you were even breathing and your mind was so murky that you couldn't figure out how to successfully get air to your lungs, let alone form words.

You convinced yourself that this was it. That last night you overreacted, over-analyzed the situation, you let yourself hope for one second that she felt even a fraction of what you felt for her; she was just drunk, she got caught up in the moment, she just wasn't that into you . You were sure that whatever you had with Waverly was about three seconds from being shattered into oblivion; and all because you thought you were doing everyone a favor. Looking back, it was stupid. They would have all been on your side, their fight or not. But that's what you were afraid of, what you're still afraid of; that they would fight your battle and lose. You didn't think you'd be able to live with yourself then. If you were the only one that made it out of this because of something you never wanted in the first place. Because of a curse.

You trained your eyes on the plate Waverly still held in her lap, the mug of coffee placed somewhere on the floor next to the bed, probably lukewarm and coagulated, and studied the spots on the bacon where the grease burned the fat into a black charcoal, using it as a distraction from how close Waverly was sitting to you on the twin mattress. She was running her fingernail over a chip in the plate and staring at you, the words tumbling loosely from her lips falling on deaf ears. She was nervously rambling, but all you heard was the damned scratch her nail made every time it went over the break in the ceramic. It wasn't until Waverly placed her hand gently over yours and squeezed while Ana more or less shook you from your thoughts, practically begging for you to hear her out, that you actually heard your name. It nearly knocked you back into the mattress, how it tumbled from her lips. It hurt to breathe and you weren't sure that wasn't from the way Waverly was looking at you then, pleading for you to just meet her halfway.

"Nicole, look at me." You couldn't. You felt trapped, the room too little for the amount of weight the inevitable conversation held. You thought that if you looked into Waverly's eyes and caught what you feared looking back at you, your heart wouldn't be able to take it. It was already thrashing wildly underneath your rib cage, erratic and uncontrollable, you weren't sure it was strong enough to handle Waverly Earp tearing it from your chest and breaking it into an infinite amount of jagged pieces. Especially not if she was looking at you like that while she did it. " Nicole . Please ."

Your resolve broke along with the crack in her voice. It concerned you, how easily it happened. But this was Waverly you were talking about, what else were you supposed to do?

When you met her eyes, they were filled with a need so violently present it terrified you. But there was something else there too, hidden just below the surface; she was vulnerable, she needed you to understand. Whatever she wanted to say would be important, you just weren't sure it was something you could handle.

"Rosita and I-" Nope . Definitely not something you could handle at the moment, not with the image of them together as fresh as it was.

"Wait," You choked out, ripping your hand out from under hers as though her touch alone suddenly scorched blisters into your flesh. You wanted to be anywhere but there; cornered, trapped under Waverly's stare. You turned your attention to where her hand fell to rest on your leg; even with a blanket between you, her touch was still hot enough to burn. A part of you wanted to push her out of the way just so you could get a breath of air that wasn't filled with Waverly . Even the slight trace of her left on the blanket she used and the pillow you slept on was too much. "Waverly, you're allowed to kiss whoever you want-" You were surprised the words made it out coherently with how shaky your voice was. She let out a sharp exhale through her nose and shook her head, frustrated, exasperated. With you or the situation, it was hard to tell.