willow; jake seresin

chapter 2

The California air filled her lungs like a cloud of smoke, toxic yet addictive.

Willow shoved her hands into the pockets of her jean shorts as she took careful steps towards the bar she used to frequent daily not too long ago.

Before the accident.

Her breath shuddered out all the air in her lungs, leaving her suffocating as the doors pushed wide open. Music filled her ears and alcohol wafted through the air, invading her senses and bringing subdued memories to the surfaces.

Memories of her laughter, a sound so foreign to her now. Memories of her best friends, turned into distant acquaintances. Memories of her life before, a life she no longer recognized.

She pushed through the crowd, wishing to turn on her heel and rush right out the door, running away as fast and far as she could. But she pushed on, ignoring the churning in her stomach and the ache in her heart.

"Holy shit!" Willow pricked up at the familiar voice, body spinning just in time to see Penny Benjamin practically leap over the counter, eyes glued onto the younger woman. "She's back!"

A few people turned, jaws dropping and whispers circling. Willow pressed her lips together, willing the floor to open and swallow her whole. When Penny wrapped her arms around her, Willow carefully removed shaking hands from her pockets, leaning into the embrace with arms clasping the older woman tight.

Penny pulled away after a moment, hands coming up to hold Willow's face, eyes scanning her as if checking for injury.

"How are you?" She questioned softly, staring into the girl's brown eyes.

"Good. Great, yeah." Willow replied awkwardly, the words falling from her mouth without permission.

Penny just watched her for a moment, pity in her eyes. Willow hated that look. She didn't need anyone's pity. To be picked apart like a helpless bird. She was fine.

"We've missed you. So much." The older woman smiled wide, shaking her head in slight disbelief.

"Yeah," she paused, trying to sound as sincere as possible. "Me too."

"No one's beaten your record, by the way." Penny chuckled, tilting her head in the direction of the board hanging on the wall. It was a small chalkboard, wrapped in a frame to freeze a memory in time.

The board was split in half by a jagged line and two words stood stark against the black backdrop.

Willow, written in the left corner and surrounded by small hearts. Seventeen points drawn beneath her name.

And in the right corner, Hangman. A frowny face stood right next to it, drawn by herself after protests by the man. His side only held 16 points.

Each point signifies a win in the friendly game of pool in the span of one week. She had won automatically when they never got around to playing the thirty-fourth round that dreadful week.

"Closest was a regular who got fifteen last week. But no one can catch up." Penny pointed in the direction of a man by the jukebox, chuckling lightly.

"No one ever will, Pen." Willow forced out a small laugh, recognizing the look in her eyes as she processed the sound. She's heard every variant of her laughter when she'd spend nights here or when she'd have to drive her home after one too many drinks. She knew this laugh was from a completely different person.

That's good. The Willow she knew was too far gone, replaced by this cold version that wouldn't melt even under the warmth of her motherly affection.

"Um, the whole gang's here. You should say hi. They all miss you." Penny brought her hands away from Willow's face, smiling tightly at her. "They're at your old spot."