my casanova

chapter eleven

lavinia stands perfectly still, her forehead rested against the front door of her house. she has been standing in this exact spot for eleven minutes, waiting for wren to show up. her parents have been gone for seven hours and twenty-three minutes, and they will not return for another twenty-two hours and some more minutes. not that she's counting.

a knock at the door startles her, and lavinia abruptly steps back from the door. she steadies herself and tiptoes some paces away before purposely stomping towards the door so wren wouldn't see that lavinia had been waiting for her like a pathetic little dog.

she swings the door open and there, standing on her front stoop, is wren. lavinia's breath catches in her throat and she wants to leap into wren's arms, but she bites the inside of her cheek, hard enough to take her attention off of how much she wants to be held by wren. her eyes sweep down the girl in front of her, as familiar to her as her own body. wren is wearing a black hoodie and another pair of beat-up converse, her jeans baggy and faded. she looks so cozy and soft, and lavinia feels all warm inside just by looking at her. then her gaze is drawn to wren's hair, which is shaggy and unruly, and she notices that wren has had yet another haircut.

"your hair," lavinia says by way of greeting, and immediately wants to punch herself in the face.

wren blushes and brings a hand to her head, her fingers twining in her hair self-consciously. "oh," she says, as if she had forgotten about it until then. "yeah, i just...i got it cut. i mean, obviously you can see that, i don't know why i just said that." wren's cheeks redden further and she rolls her eyes at her own behavior. "anyway, my mom hates it and i'm grounded now, so..." she trails off and lavinia has an intense urge to reach forward and thread her fingers through wren's dark curls.

"well, i like it," she admits a little quietly, avoiding wren's gaze sheepishly. she truly does like it - wren's curls are messy and shaggy in a very attractive way, looping around her ears and at the base of her neck. it's very short now, a length lavinia has only ever seen on boys, but it's not close-cropped by any means. it's just long enough for lavinia to run her hands through, if she so pleased, which she very much does.

wren looks relieved, like nobody's opinion matters to her except lavinia's. "you do?" she asks hopefully, breathlessly.

lavinia softens. "of course i do." her eyes drop to wren's lips, slightly parted and incredibly soft, before she feels her face heat and she drags her gaze back to the upper half of wren's face like a normal person having a normal conversation would. "i love it."

wren steps closer and leans against the door frame. lavinia instinctively steps back as wren's body heat flows in waves off of her, making her dizzy and confused and very desperate for something she can't have. "well, that's good," wren breathes, closer now. "at least someone does."

"doesn't ruby like it?" thinking of wren's girlfriend makes lavinia want to stab her own eyes out, but it's very important to remember the obligations they both have - neither of them are single, so anything happening between them is strictly forbidden.

wren shrugs. "i don't know," she admits with a grin. "i haven't showed her yet."

lavinia gasps. "wren," she says, dragging the word out and grinning back, "you little rascal."

wren's eyes flash at the name they had called each other when they were younger, but she doesn't say anything. "hey, now," she says, putting her hands up in a gesture of surrender. "i plan on it, very soon, in fact." lavinia doesn't enjoy the idea of wren seeing ruby any time soon, but she ignores the way her heart twists painfully in her chest. "i actually just got it cut, like, not even two hours ago. i just went right home after to grab some stuff, which is when my mom saw and went into some flying rage and grounded me, and then i came straight here."