Little Girl Blue - 𝐖𝐋𝐖

𝐈. Philia- TwentyTwo

And she was waiting. That next morning with the covers tucked firmly on her sides. Teeth already brushed, hair combed to perfection held together by a claw clip.

The night ended so anticlimactically. The last song was sung, and just as everyone came, excited and jittery, they went out. On a high, flooding through the doors with cheers and a clear illustration of a good night all over their grinning faces.

Jane sobered up enough to drive us back, the car ride quiet and bumpy. Once in the comfort of the house we departed to our designated beds, whispering small good nights without another look at each other.

But this morning the feeling bubbled back up and I could no longer fight it.

"We should talk." I set her plate and coffee down on the nightstand.

Eyeing me—or the plate— hungrily, she reached for the coffee first without breaking her gaze. "Why can we only do things when you're ready. Seems quite unfair if you ask me."

I sighed, "quit with the mind games, Jane. Stalling doesn't work for you." Sitting at the edge of the bed, I fluffed out the comforter, watching her take small sips from her mug, basking in the warmth and bitterness of the drink. How it touched her lips, how her throat bobbed after a swallow. She was a canvas and I was a helpless admirer watching the art.

Helpless indeed.

When the mug was half finished she finally moved towards the plate. French toast, some of that fatty pork bacon she likes swimming around in the syrup. "You've been stalling since you got here. That's big talk coming from you." She mentioned.

Gulping, I shifted a little. "Last night..." I was hoping she'd finish my sentence so I didn't have to. I think she purposefully ignored it. "...last night I felt something. And I'm afraid to admit it but I feel like I have to."

"So what will win today? Your fear or your feelings?" She deadpanned.

This woman was damned to be logical. I swallowed again, trying to stop my own breakfast from coming up. "You know, if you're going to act this way I'd rather keep it to myself." I folded my arms while my legs bounced in angst.

I heard the comforter crumble, a dent in the bed as she crawled forward, her smooth and slender arms wrapping around my shoulders. "Come on you know you want to tell me." She cooed, "and I want to hear you say it."

She was full of games, she knew what her touch did to me. I was captive under her spell at once. "I feel things for you I don't think I should be feeling."

"Like what?" I should've known she was going to make me say it.

"Like a like, you know? In a way not usually friends do."

Jane moved around, her lilac nightgown riding up her legs as she faced me. Our bodies in opposite directions, our arms brushing one another. "Thank you." She muttered.

I wasn't sure what I had been expecting but it wasn't that. "What?"

"I said thank you. I know that was hard."

"That's all?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Should there be more?"

"I don't know. Yell at me, kick me out. Something..."

Cutting delicately back into the slices of drenched bread, she managed to put out a small smile. "Don't be silly. I told you you're not going anywhere and I meant that."

"So," I chewed the corner of my lips, "you're not like, disgusted with me..or mad?"

After all, I am a woman and so is Jane. She's ten years older than me, more mature, more established. We couldn't have been anymore different. This, by any societal standards and previous morals I had, was wrong.