one

twenty one

Sophie's point of view

I woke up slowly: my throat dry and my eyes still glued together from crying myself to sleep the night before. I tried to shift my arm, rub my face, but realised I was effectively pinned down by another arm. Panicking slightly I forced myself to wake up and take in my surroundings more fully. My sudden anxiety quickly died down, however, when I saw the hand grasped round my wrist. It's fingernails were chipped, originally painted black but then filled in with Sharpie to cover the cracks as time had gone on. My eyes travelled up to the arm above it, softly flicking over chunky black and silver bracelets that I assumed had ridden up in the night almost as far as Maeve's elbow. I smiled to myself, taking in the morning and the renewal that seemed to come with it, especially today. Somehow I didn't feel the need to question why she was here or how soon the peaceful bubble around me would burst. Things just felt fine for once.

I must have drifted back to sleep at some point because when I next woke up it was lighter and I could lift my left arm again. Though it was nice to have some blood flow in that side of my body for the first time today, I felt suddenly lost, alone and vulnerable without Maeve's weight pinning me down. I reached over and wrapped myself back around her more comfortably, shifting my body so that most of my torso was effectively on top of her. She smiled, lips curling softly, beginning to wake up and hugged me closer as her eyes began to flicker open. I grinned at her, blushing uncontrollably as I realised how close we were together. "Morning", I stuttered out. Maeve blinked, her eyes still adjusting to the morning light and murmured a muffled hello back to me. I don't know how long we lay there, both awake but unwilling to really get up because that would mean acknowledging that we had somehow forgiven each other during that night and realising that would mean talking about what had happened which added a complicated dimension to what was otherwise perfect.

Maeve finally shifted, forcing me to pull myself off her and sit up. "Soph" she said, her voice almost questioning. Seeing that she was struggling with what to say next I touched her arm, helping her stand up, "what if we just go inside yeah, make a cup of tea, we can talk about it then". She nodded, supporting herself fine but still somewhat leaning into my shadow, in an effort to take advantage of my rare assertiveness. I took her hand and led her through the door and into the kitchen. It was odd to see Maeve so vulnerable, I mean I had sort of acknowledged it that morning when she had been asleep, but it was totally different when she was awake. Maeve had this way of commanding a room, though she rarely said much, which had been one of the things that attracted me to her in the first place. This Maeve though was something totally unique, reduced to an almost upsetting extent to a shell of her former self.  

I handed Maeve the Harry Potter cup I always made her tea in and helped her sit down on the sofa. The air suddenly felt thick with awkwardness but, in the midst of that, I could feel her trusting me totally, ready though she potentially didn't know it yet, to truly try to talk about what was going on with her. I looked over the rim of my mug and met her eyes, "Maeve" I asked, my voice tentative, "do you want me to start or do you think you can explain. I just want to know that you're fine, or not even fine, but handling it". Maeve reached out, grabbing my hand and began to talk, her voice hoarse and tired "I'm sorry", her eyes filled with tears, "I thought that you knowing me was something I should be afraid of, something I needed to fight at all costs, but it's not. You're everything, more than everything to me and I was an idiot to think even for a second that I couldn't or that I shouldn't trust you with what's been going on". I listened silently, watching, reassuring her but careful not to interrupt lest she lose any of her willingness to share. "It's just" Maeve continued, "I've been thinking a lot recently about who I'm attracted to and I think I might maybe like girls and I don't really know how to feel about that, which is stupid because it's so not a big deal but it kind of feels like it is and I made you angry and that sucks, and I'm just really stressed about everything". The worry seemed to build up in Maeve's eyes as the words tumbled out of her disorientated and totally out of control. I shifted my hand so that I could cradle hers more fully and moved so that I was protecting her body more fully with mine, "Maeve it's okay. But you need to know that it's going to be okay, maybe it doesn't feel like it is right now but it will be. Sexuality and who we are in general is always going to be confusing, it makes us think that we don't know ourselves, which is overwhelming for literally anyone but you are perfect however you identify and I'm not angry and it's going to be okay". Maeve put her cup down and enveloped me in a bone-crushing hug. I rocked her from side to side as she began to cry softly in my arms. "Shh" I blew on the top of her head, feeling her warm body press in against my heart, "It's okay, it's going to be okay".