What Can I Do? (renee rapp x reader)

Re(neé)connecting (Part Seven)

A/N: SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING YESTERDAY! But you can expect at least two more chapters today. Also this is slightly shorter than usual but IT IS WORTH IT I SWEAR.

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The Past (July, 2019)

Friends Who Are Girls Or Girlfriends

Reneé's POV

If I'm completely honest –call me a pessimist if you want but— I thought that whatever happened between me and Y/N was because she was drunk as fuck. Despite the way she acted and the way she dressed and the music she listened to, I had always assumed she was straight, which is why I thought I was just her little experiment. Now I'm not sure what she is. All I really know is that she likes me. And honestly, that's fine for me. I don't need any other girl or boy trying to steal her away from me. Especially when I've wanted her for so long. She's even better than I could have ever dreamed of. She's...wonderful. At everything. She's a great kisser and a great...well you know. We have short nails for a reason, okay? She knows just where to put her hands, so that by the time we are done, I smell like her (coconut) and she smells like me (lavender).

Both of us are still very much in the closet. Which, if I'm completely honest, feels shitty sometimes. But we both aren't ready to be out in the open about who we are, however insecure that might make us. Plus, I can't deny how fun it is to sneak around with her, on and off stage. For such a soft face, she is very mischievous. I think we've either made out or fucked in just about every possible place at our theatre. It's a unique sense of adrenaline, you know? Like we're some forbidden royalty from different worlds or some shit, trying to keep quiet even though we can both be very loud. I like that I'm the only one who gets to have that with her, who gets to hear her like that, who gets to feel her like that.

Or am I?

See, despite our confession of love to each other, we aren't actually girlfriends. We're just girls who are friends or friends who are girls. And kiss each other. And well...fuck. But anyways, the point is that...I want to make it official. I want to at least know that she's mine, and only mine, even if the rest of the world won't. God, while I'm not ready for the rest of the world to know about me liking girls, there is nothing –and I mean nothing– I want more than to tell Kyle to stop hitting on Y/N. Even though officially, we aren't exclusive. Technically, I have no right to get jealous.

We're just gal pals.

I'm frowning by the way.

And yet, despite my clear annoyance at the fact that we aren't girlfriends, I still don't have the balls –or excuse me, ovaries– to actually ask her out. Should I buy her flowers? Would she even like that? Does she even want to be girlfriends?

What if I'm completely misinterpreting the situation? What if I am her little experiment? What if the only thing she wants is to be friends with benefits? Nothing more, nothing less.

I can't risk losing her. I can't risk putting myself out there.

I've never been with a girl before. I've liked girls, sure, but I've never been with one. I've never felt the tender touch of their pink lips. Never tasted their lipgloss. Never played with their hair, never badly styled their locks into two asymmetrical braids. I've never massaged their smooth backs, soft skin that glistened with the smell of body cream. Never heard their soft giggle melt into mine. Never tried on each other's clothes. Never did each other's makeup.

At least not in a gay way.

But with Y/N, everything changed. We had done everything and more. But I'd be lying if I didn't want to do some of the cliche things with her too. Like paint my nails the color of her soft eyes. Or buy her flowers, her favorite ones. Or write her letters, each with little messy hearts in between the margins. I want to kiss her in the rain. I want to sing her songs, write them for her. I want to slow dance with her in her apartment, putting on the Frank Sinatra vinyl I had gifted her. I want to wake her up in bed with breakfast, her favorite array of berries forming a little smiley face. I want to burn pancakes with her because we're too busy kissing each other to notice that the stove has been on for too long. I want to take her ice skating while trying to balance ourselves, falling just so I can hear her beautiful laughs, complete with those adorable snorts.

I want to fall in love with her. Properly.

I can't help but think about all of this as we finish up the show. I'm still thinking about it when we get dressed and she comes to kiss in my dressing room before we go out to the same bar we had first kissed each other at. I think about it as I down shot after shot of too many different types of alcohol to count. But I think of it even more when I see Kyle flirting with her. Again.

"Ugh! She doesn't even like him!" I say, slurring my words and still sipping my drink. Grey is clearly tired of Y/N always being the subject of our conversations.

"Girl, you have got to let this go. Aren't you two like together?" He sighs, raising his eyebrow at me.

"Kind of..."

"Kind of?!?" He almost yells, which causes some of our co-stars to stare. "Kind of?!?" he whisper yells, "You haven't asked her out yet?"

"It's complicated...I want to I just-"

Grey suddenly starts looking behind me and I look at where he's looking.

Is Kyle...did Kyle...

"Reneé...don't freak out."

...kiss Y/N?

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A/N: THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO COMMENTS AND VOTES AND EVERYTHING! REALLY DOES MOTIVATE ME! I also wanted to mention that I came back to this and it had 1k reads which is AWESOME. Also do you guys want smut?