Little Girl Blue - 𝐖𝐋𝐖

𝐈. Philia- Thirteen

We were invited to dinner. Kaylee's at 7 o'clock. I was sitting in the room after Jane had instructed me to wait outside while she finished in the shower. Rubbing my toes through the soft fur of the rug, sitting nervously at the very edge of the bed.

I was quite surprised when the invitation included both Jane and I— that is, as emphasize by Kaylee, if I was still around— and after Jane had received the call there was a panic arising between the both of us.

She had moved a lot around. It was cleaner, more empty. The shelves had no more books or pictures, the walls were bare, shadows from the frames that adorned them. The closet was tidied, smooth groves from the vacuum against the mangled carpet. A single lamp from her bedside tabled flickered, old and needing a bulb change. The room still smelled like her, suffocated with that fresh berry shampoo she used and something floral—lilac?

The bathroom door pulled open, abrupt and sharp just as a thick cloud of steam warped around her body. She descended from the light, nothing shy of an angel, clean and fresh with a timid smile. I felt my breath hitch, I was expecting her to have already been dressed, and quickly pulled my eyes back onto the rug where my feet tangled themselves.

"I have a dress you can borrow, will that work?" Her damp feet left tracks on the floor.

A dress was pulled from the closet, simple and black with strings meant to be tied at the back. "Thank you." I whispered. Though I fear my voice retreated back the way it was when we met. I had been just as struck by her beauty then as I was now, feeling her damp skin so close to my own.

"How do you think this'll look?" She held a hanger against her chest. It was another dress, longer and blue.

I nodded, "good."

She frowned, head slightly tilted sideways. "That's not really reassuring. Is it the color?" The dress was held out as if to inspect anymore flaws.

Shaking my head, "No, blue is your color."

That seemed to satisfy her enough, arms fumbling at the towel once the dress was carefully laid across the bed. She began to dry her hair, running her fingers through her wet, chestnut strands that stuck to her neck.

"I'm nervous. Is that bad?"

My fingers grazed the fabric of the dress. I was glad she was looking away. "Why are you nervous?"

"Kaylee." Was all she said.

I had been nervous about that too. For different reasons than Jane, of course. And I, tagging along as an accomplice, was something I knew Kaylee wasn't too fond of.

"I overhead her in the kitchen tell you she loves you," I didn't want her to lie to me, "Do you love her? Is that why you're nervous?"

Her face twisted. "No." She turned to the dresser, slamming the door shut. "I never loved her. She was convienient."

I hugged my arms. "Isn't that what love is?"

Pausing for awhile, "No." Then finished running her fingers through her hair. "I don't think it should be. I don't want something that can just be given to me."

"But you took it anyway... you let her love you." My lip had been caught between my teeth, I was halfway murmuring and sure how shaky my voice was.

"And does that make me a bad person or selfish for wanted to be tended to, cared about? Wanted?"

I wish I could tell her how much I understood, how much I wanted that too. Though my words betrayed me again as they fell back in my throat. "It shouldn't be. But I think in this world it does."