Studio 22 | Mary-Kate Olsen

Chapter Seventy-Four

August 7th 2024- New York City - Blue and Mary-Kate's Brownstone

Waking up before Blue was a rarity, something I wished happened more often. Getting to lay in her arms whilst she holds me close is a type of peace I've only experienced with her. Normally she'd be awake before me and the coffee would be made and the fruit for breakfast prepared, she'd have snuck back into bed and laid beside me whilst she was on her phone waiting for me to wake up. But this morning my back was still flushed to her chest and her arms were draped around me keeping me close. Her face nuzzled into my neck. We couldn't get closer if we tried. I tried my best not to move, I was reluctant to wake her knowing we'd have to face reality. Reality was cold and scary. This was peaceful, the morning sun kissing our exposed skin.

When she woke up we'd have to talk and talking would create distance because of the honesty we have to have with each other. Thoughts, feelings and experiences we've kept from each other are going to be all laid out on the table and I know her too well to know that she'll pull away at first. She'll get scared and the guilt will build, taking over her like it has done so many times before this. I wasn't ready for the distance. I wanted this forever so I tried my very best to savour it. Prayed that the morning sun didn't shine too bright and wake her.

I was content here. And I laid for over an hour awake listening to her soft breaths falling in and out of a light slumber before she woke up. She stretched slightly, I could tell she still thought I was asleep due to her meek movements, in her sleepy haze she began peppering my exposed skin on my shoulders and neck with soft kisses. "Morning, Tiny." She whispered, her voice full of husk. "Morning," I mumbled back trying to make it sound like she had woken me with her gentle kisses. Silence coated us allowing me time to soak up the last few minutes of security. "What time is it?" I asked. "Does it matter? It's Sunday." She said clearly before assisting me in turning over to lay on her chest. "I guess not." So she was equally wanting to avoid the talk we needed. Her hand ran up and down my spine under my tank top whilst I played with her rings on her other hand.

"We should get up." I told her, knowing it was well into the day. She was never one for lounging in bed all day. It took a lot of persuasion to convince her to have a duvet day with me. "Why?" She whined and I looked up at her. "It's midday." I told her she still had her eyes closed. "We could stay in bed a little l-ong-er." "We need to talk." "Or we could g-g-go for a late lunch at The Ivy." She counters. "We should talk first." "Or we could talk later." She opened one eye and looked at me. "You'll be tired later." I pointed out. "I'm tired n-now...so later is o-Kay too." I rolled my eyes at her and she kissed the top of my head. "Can I take you to lunch?" She asked softly. "Blue..." "let's just live in bliss for a few more hours." She pulled me closer to her. "How about I make us breakfast and we talk." I leant up to peck her lips, as desperate as I was to spend time with her in our bubble of bliss we needed to talk this through. We couldn't avoid it forever. "You're no fun." She pouted, turning away from me and covering her face with her arm. "You know we need this." I say sitting up slightly. She didn't reply. "Blue... please."

She sighed, a sigh that tells me she's over this conversation already. "It's important to me that we talk about this." I say and she opens her eyes, a soft look took over her annoyed expression. "Okay." She agreed. What was important to me was still important to her, it made my stomach flutter with hope. She mirrored me sitting up slightly. "But there's no way you're cooking breakfast. I don't need the fire alarm going off." She smirked and I shoved her. You burn waffles once and get shamed for it forever. I could tell she was still adjusting to being awake despite the time of day.

In the mornings she was typically well rested, her stuttering was minimal, most of her sentences she could get through without stuttering. I almost forgot she had an injury at all. Until she climbed out of bed and was so unsteady. I knelt quickly to support her, not wanting her to lose her balance completely and fall. "I'm good." She says with a small smile showing me she wasn't annoyed that I helped her. But as she looked away I could see the annoyance on her face replaced the soft smile. She was frustrated with herself already, it was going to be a long day for her. She lacked patience when it came to herself and her recovery. She wanted to be back where she was. She didn't want to depend on people, she didn't want to be slow, she didn't want to make people worry. She just wanted to go back to being herself. Her physical ability was a big part of who she was. She went to the gym often, she looked after herself. If I needed something moving around the Studio I'd ask her to do it over the others knowing she'd be able to manage it. She enjoyed exercising and being physically fit was important to her. It's been engraved in her since she was a kid. I get why she got frustrated. I just wish she had a bit more grace for herself.