𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 ⚢ beronica

【 five. 】

Everything in life comes in threes, is what Grandma Cooper would often say when Betty and Polly were growing up. It's what Betty thinks of, all through Sunday and Monday. That everything, good ONE

Betty sits up on the bed with a start, sunlight warming her panicked body. It's Sunday morning.

Oh my God, it's MORNING!

HER PARENTS ARE BACK!

Oh my God oh my God oh my God-crap crap crap crap-

Through her horror, her eyes dart to Veronica, and then to the ornate antique clock on the wall, and while she can't help melting into a puddle of happiness at the sight of the sleeping girl beside her, she instantly stiffens with renewed terror when she realizes that it's just past 7:45 am. Her parents advised they would be home at 8. Her mind performs a mad dash of desperate calculations; she has about 10 minutes to make it to her house, which is 6 blocks from The Pembrooke, which is just under 2 miles, and she can run a mile in 9 minutes, maybe 8.5 minutes if she really pushes it, which means she can make it there in 15 minutes if she leaves in this exact moment, but she's not even dressed yet, but she can get dressed in about a minute, and she can grab her things later, but SHIT now she only has 9 minutes-

Veronica stirs beside her, stomach down on the luxurious mattress, a bare shoulder poking out from under their plush, white covers. An overwhelmed Betty stares at her in awe, eyes sweeping and committing to memory each inch of exposed skin-skin upon which she trailed her hands and her lips, skin that is warm and soft and so inviting-and her heart flutters almost painfully with how thoroughly it's been immersed in this feeling that she just really needsthis girl. It's like her lungs won't refill themselves unless she's close to her like Veronica is the one setting the strength and rhythm of her heartbeats.

She slept tangled in her limbs, dreamt of her, and has woken up thinking about her. It's impossible to stop; it's never going to stop, and she doesn't want it to. She didn't know she had been waiting to feel like this until now when she's finally feeling it. And there is so much of this inside her that it fills her up, coats her heart, warms her stomach, and spills over through every limb.

7:48 am.

Her parents.

Shit.

Instantly, she slips out from underneath the covers as quietly as she can, sighing with relief when her efforts are successful, and she manages to do it without disturbing Veronica. She haphazardly gets dressed; bra, underwear, and the clothes she would have slept in, had Veronica not taken them off: her dad's shirt and a comfortable pair of shorts. She had also brought a pair of sandals and wonders how well she can run in them until she realizes the alternative are the pair of heels she wore with her party dress. Clearly, her choices are very limited.

Surreptitiously, she grabs her phone from Veronica's nightstand and then lingers by the bed, her eyes tracing the outlines of her face as she takes in the girl's steady breathing for just a few moments more, and enjoys the ghost sensation of her touch warming the expanse of her body.

She runs as soundlessly as she can to the girl's study and quickly scribbles a note to Veronica on a Shakespeare-themed (of course) notepad she finds. Right underneath 'Journeys end in lovers meeting' (under which Veronica has already written 'every wise man's son doth know') she scrawls, "call me when you wake up. -B." Then, she turns to the bed on the opposite end of the room, upon which sleeps the girl who's set her soul on fire.

Betty can't say she's ever felt a stronger pull than the one tempting her to slide back under the covers with Veronica. It's so potent, so immense, that she sways on the spot, having to forcefully remind herself that she has to go. That her parents will arrive at their residence and won't find her there otherwise. That Veronica will text her when she wakes up. That they will see each other later today. That she's going to get to kiss her again and Veronica will bury her head in the crook of her neck like she did before and will whisper things in her ear and tangle her hands in her hair, and everything will be great again.