Outside Work We... •[TNN One-shots]•

Sailor Song •|| MARJORIE + OLIVE ||•

Prompt: Marjorie comes home early from work and catches Olive playing her guitar in her room.

Marjorie arrived home earlier than expected. The house was quiet, except for the soft strumming of a guitar coming from upstairs. She set her bag down carefully and followed the sound. The melody, warm and melancholic, drifted through the hallway, and Marjorie instantly recognized it—Sailor’s Song by Gigi Perez.

She smiled. Olive had always been a private person, so hearing her sing and play was a rare treat. Marjorie stood outside the door for a moment, listening to the lyrics her stepdaughter beautifully sang:

"Oh, won't you kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor?

And when you get a taste, can you tell me what's my flavor?

I don't believe in God, but I believe that you're my savior

My mom says that she's worried, but I'm covered in this favor

And when we're getting dirty, I forget all that is wrong

I sleep so I can see you 'cause I hate to wait so long
I sleep so I can see you and I hate to wait so long"

Olive’s voice was raw and earnest, perfectly capturing the song’s yearning. Marjorie, moved by the performance, hesitated for only a second before knocking gently.

The music cut off immediately.

“Uh... come in?” Olive’s voice sounded slightly panicked.

Marjorie opened the door, stepping inside with her usual warmth. Olive was sitting cross-legged on her bed, her green guitar resting on her lap. Her face was unmistakably red, which only made Marjorie’s heart soften further.

“Don’t stop,” Marjorie said gently, closing the door behind her. “You’re really good.”

Olive shifted awkwardly, brushing her hair behind her ear. “You... heard that?”

“All of it,” Marjorie said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Your voice is lovely, Olive. I don’t know why you keep it hidden.”

Olive shrugged, her fingers fidgeting with the guitar strings. “It’s just something I do for myself. It’s... personal.”

Marjorie nodded. “That’s Sailor’s Song, isn’t it?”

Olive’s hands froze. “Yeah.”

Marjorie tilted her head, her voice curious but kind. “Carly mentioned it once. Isn’t that song supposed to be about, well... loving another woman?”

The color in Olive’s face deepened, her expression immediately guarded. “Yeah, it is.”

Marjorie’s smile remained steady. “It’s beautiful, Olive. And the way you play it—it’s full of so much emotion.”

Olive hesitated, her heart pounding. The words she’d been holding back for so long rushed out before she could stop them: “I’m a lesbian.”

The room fell silent. Olive’s face burned, her cheeks practically glowing red as she braced for Marjorie’s reaction.

Marjorie leaned forward, her expression softening further. “Oh, Olive. Thank you for telling me.” She placed a hand on Olive’s knee. “You know I’ll always love and support you, no matter what.”

Olive’s head shot up, her blue eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re not... upset?”

“Upset?” Marjorie’s laughter was light and full of affection. “Of course not. Why would I be? I see you as my own daughter, and nothing about you could ever make me feel anything but proud.”

Olive blinked rapidly, her grip on the guitar loosening. “I was scared you might... think it’s weird. Or wrong.”

Marjorie shook her head, brushing a strand of hair out of Olive’s face. “Olive, who you love is never something to be ashamed of. You’re brave for being true to yourself, and I couldn’t be happier for you.”

A small smile tugged at Olive’s lips. “Thanks, Mom.”

Marjorie’s eyes lit up at the word. “You’re welcome, my love.” She stood and gestured toward the door. “Now, how about we celebrate with some tea? And maybe later, you can teach me Sailor’s Song.”

Olive chuckled softly, picking up her guitar again. “I’m not performing it for anyone else, though.”

Marjorie smiled knowingly. “We’ll see about that.”

As Marjorie left the room, Olive let out a deep breath. The weight she had been carrying for so long felt lighter now. She strummed her guitar again, her fingers finding the chords to Sailor’s Song. For the first time, the melody felt as free as she did.

[A/N: I don't know if I like this or not. I don't know how to write someone coming out because I'm still inside the closet myself. It honestly sucks having old-school religious parents. I literally had to block my mother on here so that she won't see the gay shit I write.]