Words Have Two Meanings

XII

The hurt of Mila not being her soulmate still aches everyday. From the moment she awakes until she falls asleep at night, there's a burn in her chest that's only soothed by Mila's proximity.

Lydia's unsure of how to move on. She was always of the idea that as long as she has Mila, her own soulmate wouldn't matter. That Highway to Hell would be fine without her, and Lydia himself would live a life of limerence with her one true love.

She never put into account the unimaginable scenario in which Mila found her own soulmate.

Mila doesn't seem to find anything wrong with it either, is the cruel twist of it. Things go on as usual, Lydia and Mila still spend all of their free time together and every minute of it makes Lydia feel like she's flying, but Mila doesn't seem to notice that finding her soulmate is tearing Lydia up inside.

Every previous belief Lydia had of living happily and defying the odds together have broken into a thousand pieces. Saying "fuck it" to societal stigma and growing old together in spite of their own soulmarks is now a fragile, porcelain dream in the hands of a man with no grip.

Despite all of this, despite there being no chance of the two of them living out a brass dream together, Lydia still can't stay away. Her time is consumed with thoughts of Mila. There isn't a moment in the day in which Lydia's occupied without some sort of Mila-shaped hole in her heart.

The problem she has is that Mila's magnetic. She draws Lydia in hook, line, and sinker so easily. There's nothing about Mila that Lydia hasn't been a fool for.

Her eyes are a thousand stars and her smile is the sun. There's a symphony in her laugh, and she bathes in the moonlight. Lydia would hold fire in her hand for a chance at being with Mila for even a day.

Lydia's easy for love - that's not news - but for Mila? Lydia would walk across land and sea for days, searching for even the smallest piece of hope that Mila loves her the same way.

Because that's what this is - love. And Lydia's an idiot for not seeing it sooner.

The downfall of Lydia, the one thing that's going to make putting up with this distance between them is Mila's kindness. Lydia can pine, she's great at it, but Mila still being as close and lovely and kind as usual is going to spell disaster for Lydia.

She always puts Lydia first. When they go on their now-realized not dates, Mila always insists on paying, and even when Lydia manages to pay, Mila always finds a way to make it up. She knows Lydia's taste, understands what she likes, and never fails to remind Lydia of that by ordering her a perfect drink or sending her music recommendations. And when they hang out after the tube stops running, she drives Lydia home.

Even when Lydia's wasted.

"You're a really great person, Mila De Haro."

Lydia's currently slouched in Mila's passenger seat as music plays over the stereo. Lydia knows she'll regret everything she's saying come morning, but right now, it's imperative that she informs Mila of just how wonderful she is.

"Thank you, Lydia Harper." Mila clearly finds amusement in Lydia expression of admiration, but Lydia doesn't care. As long as that bright smile is in her line of sight, everything is okay. "Are you perhaps a bit drunk?"

"Perhaps," Lydia agrees, grinning so wide that she can feel her dimples pop. "It's so hard to say no to drinks, don't you agree?"

"It gets easier when you get older."

Lydia scoffs, turning to look out of her window in what feels like a protest for Mila's words. "Please, you're hardly old at all."

Mila laughs, but Lydia still doesn't turn. "You go back and forth a lot on this, Lydia, and I'm sick of the confusion. Answer the question once and for all. Am I old or not?"

Lydia sighs loudly, feeling more playful than she normally would after as many drinks as she's had. She puts effort into sounding put out. "Obviously you aren't old, Mila," she says. "I don't know any old woman as hot as you are."

Mila laughs and it's boisterous and beautiful. Lydia grins, far too enamoured to be embarrassed. She knows for certain she's in love with Mila. It's so easy to be, and all Lydia wants is to show her just how strongly he feels.

She just wishes Mila would let her.

Lydia soon finds herself falling asleep, lulled there by the quiet sounds of the road passing by as the music ebbs in the background. She's awoken minutes later by the tinny strums of the guitar starting a new song. Lydia recognizes it immediately, the syncopated pattern burned into her memory and onto her skin. Lydia groans loudly, much to Mila's amusement.

"You really hate this song, don't you?" She's got that million dollar smile on her face and Lydia wishes her own chagrin wasn't the cause of it.

"Well clearly I don't love it," she rivals disdainfully. "Why is it even playing?"

"It's a mixed CD I burned when I was younger."

Lydia scoffs. "Change it, please."

"If you insist." Lydia watches Mila's nimble fingers click "next" on the stereo and waits patiently for the next song to begin.

It's difficult to hear at first, but as soon as the sound hits her, Lydia immediately recognizes it. Echoing gently throughout the car is Lydia's favorite song. It feels like coming home, warm and calming, and reducing Lydia to a languor state that, in any other situation, would have her drifting away.

Now, though - now she's just confused. "Why is this song on there?" The placement of it is too much.

"You don't own the rights to Stairway to Heaven, love," Mila jokes, not sensing Lydia's distress. "It's public domain, and I happen to like the song too."

"But it's right after Highway to Hell."

Mila nods, and Lydia wonders how in such a situation she could be so calm. "Well I happen to think those songs go great together."

Lydia sighs. She knows just how goddamn well those songs fit together, and that's why it hurts. "I guess."

The ride is silent and Lydia thinks about what a cosmic tease it is how close she is to belonging to Mila, but something stopped them. The puzzle is in place but it was cut wrong, and now they aren't truly meant to be.

It's unfair, and Lydia wants to cry.

"We're here."

Lydia looks out the window and sees that they're parked on the edge of the road in front of Lydia's flat. The light is on, Lydia can see through the balcony door. Pash must still be awake. "Thank you, Mila. You're a really great person."

"So I've been told." Lydia smiles sadly and starts to get out of the car, but Mila's hand cupping her elbow stops her. "Are you alright? You've seemed a bit off tonight."

"I'm alright," Lydia promises, lying through her teeth. "Just drank too much."

Mila considers Lydia for a moment, her grasp not letting up. "You sure?"

"I'm certain." She's not. She's not sure, she's not alright. She's slowly breaking apart at the seams because all she wants is Mila and the universe bites its thumb at them. "I'll see you later then?"

"Wednesday night."

Lydia nods, and gets out of the car when Mila releases Lydia's arm. She doesn't stay to watch Mila drive away, just stumbles into the flat and to her room, ignoring Pash's inquiring words. She plays Highway to Hell on repeat as she goes to bed.

She dreams about Mila because the universe is a fucking prick.