Fabrications

• 2| breathe •

[to all who have been smitten, all who have felt those little butterflies at the sound of a person's name.]

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"I hope you liked your birthday surprise," Debra mumbled before carefully sipping on her hot coffee. The subtle smoke emanating from the cup swirled near the blonde's face as she pursed her lips.

"You made it pretty much impossible to hate it, Deb. It was really sweet of you."

The blonde reciprocated the coy smile flourishing upon Meredith's lips and it wasn't long before the brunette's gaze lowered back to her own coffee cup, the smile now stretched to a bright grin. It was impossible for Debra to not allow a mischievous smirk to grow once she saw that, quite literally watching as her best friend tried— and failed — to suppress the emotions within her. She waited for her best friend to finally fess up to the truth, propping her chin in the palm of her right hand as she did so. When no words escaped Meredith's lips, Debra took it as a sign that she would have to take matters into her own hands once again.

"And it was quite the birthday since sweet Kenneth Norton decided to join us, hmm?" She watched as a direct glare was reciprocated. "But of course I should've known he wouldn't even dream of missing little Merebear's birthday."

The brunette shook her head dismissively, although it wasn't as convincing with that overbearing smile, the one that seemed to never wear off. "You heard that?" she chuckled. "I don't think he's ever called me by my actual name."

"It's not just what I heard, Mere. What he did spoke volumes. I have guy friends and I don't think they've ever kissed my forehead that way," she teased.

Meredith scolded herself for her inability to somehow alter the reaction, the playfulness laced within Debra's tone enough to make her blush. She'd never forget her beloved stuffed bear, Mr. Fluff, and the immense attachment to it that had flourished within her at the early ages of 6 to 10. Anyone close to Meredith would've surely expected Mr. Fluff to be gripped by the small girl's plump hand everywhere she went. And as the years passed by, the official nickname Merebear took form, regularly used by Kenneth himself to the point where it was the only thing she responded to. It warmed her heart to think of how much the nickname had surpassed throughout the years. After so long, it didn't seem like the 27 year old was ready to change the way he referred to his best friend's little sister, and Meredith herself surely didn't mind it in the slightest.

"Okay," she relented with a chuckle. "So, he's really sweet to me. Big deal. Can we please not talk about my nonexistent love life?"

"So, you admit this topic is far from that just friends nonsense, it's not even an option anymore, right?" Meredith rolled her eyes the minute Debra finished that sentence. "No one else calls you Merebear! Not even your own brother, c'mon."

The brunette's chest heaved with a quick pulse, her gaze lifting upwards in annoyance before she exhaled in response. Frankly, remaining in the familiar state of unrequited love was something she had learned to live with— fear ruled the impossible possibility of changing that fact. Kenneth never reciprocated his feelings to her back then, although to be fair, she'd declared her love to a 14 year old boy who wasn't too fond of a relationship as much as video games and skateboarding. Nevertheless, it was enough for her to hope he'd forgotten, or at least ignored, that embarrassing moment of vulnerability. His subtle rejection never altered his affection towards her, which in retrospect served as the final sting to the wound of confusion. Judging by brief moments transpiring between them, anyone would question what their friendship truly stood on. But she'd taken a chance. And after an initial rejection a mere decade beforehand, Meredith wasn't too keen on making that mistake again.