"Hey." Erica wouldn't quite meet Finn's eyes. "Wanna come in?" Finn smiled. "I don't know", Erica replied. "I'll leave the door open then." Finn retreated back to his loft. It smelled like coffee. Erica went in after a few moments of listening to her heart beating faster and faster. She closed the door. Sure, he may have been an asshole but Erica didn't want him to get cold. This way she wouldn't be cold either. Her gaze paused at a side table by the door. A single yellow rose rested in a bottle of whiskey acting as a vase. Erica smiled a little. She walked into the kitchen. She felt at home immediately and she reckoned the feeling had nothing to do with the loft. "I've missed you'', Finn said.
"I thought you might ask if I wanted some coffee." Erica smiled wryly. "I didn't think you'd need to ask." Finn smiled. "You used to just take what you wanted."
"Yeah, I'm fun like that."
Erica had cut her hair. The black, uneven curls fell a little over her bare, faintly freckled shoulders. Finn had forgotten just how green her eyes had been. Finn couldn't stop looking at her. She brushed past him to the coffee machine and their eyes locked. "Stop staring, weirdo", was all she said, before reaching out to grab a mug from the cupboard. "You looked back", Finn said. And she always would. She couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not. Her eyes flitted to his lips.
Erica didn't remember how she and Finn ended up half naked on the floor of his kitchen. They lay next to each other, both panting slightly. "I was going to ask you if you wanted to be friends again", she said, rolling off of him. He tucked a curl behind her ear. "We tried that", he said. "Back in New York. It didn't work." Erica gave in. Something in her chest melted. Maybe for the first time she let it melt. Finn leaned on his elbows. Erica kissed him again. This time there was less fire and desire and more softness. She'd be there. She'd stay. Like she had never left. Maybe she hadn't. "Finn, I'm pregnant", she blurted out. He smiled and attacked her with a big hug. "That's amazing", he said. He sounded genuinely happy and Erica had to admit she was happy too. "And I didn't just come here wanting you back in my life because there is no way I could raise a child on my own." She took a deep breath. "I love you again. And... maybe I never really stopped." Finn still had that goofy grin on his face and he kissed her several times. "I think you could do it alone", he said. "But you don't have to. You have me. I never stopped loving you, 'Rica."
"Never?" she smiled. "Never", he repeated.
Ann watched Sirius dancing wildly to an Abba song and she wondered how drunk he was. She tried to hide her smile. She wouldn't admit it to anyone but he looked quite cute in his band tee and ratty jeans and his curly hair messy and all over the place. Ann felt her face grow warm. How long had she been watching him? How long had she had this fluttering, warm feeling in the bottom of her stomach? Tilda danced with him. Just as wildly. They could have been siblings, her and him. No, they were siblings. Tied by invisible strings. A bond that wasn't created with DNA or blood, but pure joy and love and caring for each other more than they cared for themselves.
"I think I may be in love with Siri", Ann confessed. Sienna clapped slowly. "Congrats", she said. "You're the last one to know." Ann flushed perhaps redder than her hair. "What do you mean?"
Tilly groaned. She raised her eyes from the table. She was lying over it, hands gripping her mug of coffee. "It's so obvious." She sipped her coffee, nearly spilling it over the table. "Sienna, how are you not hungover?" she asked the dark haired girl. Sienna smiled wryly. "I'm tougher than you." Tilly smiled lightly. "That must be it." She turned her sleepy eyes to Ann. "Are you going to tell him how you feel?"
"No", Ann said. "Why not?" Tilly asked. "He'll be so smug about it." Ann stared into her coffee. "He's been trying to ask me out for years."
"I think you're just scared it'll be too late. That he won't wait for you forever."
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FantasyShe was made of charcoal, he was a watercolour painting she grew up to haunt him, he would always see her In stained glass windows in mosaics tears in his eyes when he saw her stars in the sky It was beautiful, this haunting It left him raw and his...