Yeah I thought I noticed that too. Have some angst while we wait for Ep. 3, sorry for taking so damn long, lol.\
[Trigger warning for subtle self-harm implications]
Hands explored, breathing intensified, and lips met longingly. Two girls who thought they had changed in their five years of separation. But moments like these proved all wrong, proven false by these passionate moments.
Max had waited for this moment all day. Being practically drug from Blackwell, and all the way to Chloe's place. Pulled upstairs and immediately pushed to the wall adjacent to the door.
She was at the mercy of Chloe. Her best friend turned girlfriend holding and kissing, all perfectly done with a hint of aggression that made each one of these sessions amazing. Max assumed Chloe's aggressiveness came from the five years of radio silence, like this was her form of reprieve for it all.
Max knew better than to argue, not like she wanted to.
"Mmh, see what'cha were missing out on?" Chloe spoke quickly between breaths. She upheld her routine, and brought her lips back to Max's before the brunette could even respond. The photographer merely melded into each touch, lifting her arms up from Chloe's sides, to behind her neck.
Chloe pulled back and paused, "Oh? No smart-ass comments?" She taunted further.
Max's daze turned to a glare, "Grow up."
"Making out isn't grown up?"
The brunette involuntarily gritted her teeth, "Mhn, don't make me back up."
"Playing hardball? Fine, why don't we take this up a notch?" Chloe said. Her proposal came off as a demand. The punk took a step back, "Hoodie, off." She pointed.
"Jacket, off." Max countered.
Both articles of clothing came off in sync. Max bearing her pink top and Chloe bearing her white tank. Chloe removed her toque, letting her disheveled blue locks fall freely. She stepped back the anticipated Max, raising her right hand to pin the brunette down.
Max watched and waited. She shivered in delight as Chloe's palm planted on her shoulder, forcing her back. Deep blue eyes wandered to the contact point, and immediately Max's expression sank. Not willing to take in what she hadn't noticed before.
'Are those scars on her wrist?'
She came back to reality, but Chloe's lips had already met her cheek, "Mnh, Chloe stop." She sputtered, eyes still locked on the punk's wrist.
"Don't even try Max."
"S-Seriously, stop. I-"
"You know you want to Caulfield."
Max couldn't handle it anymore. She performed a quick jerk that caused Chloe to stutter and lose her grip. The brunette sidestepped, and gave her girlfriend a weary glance, "There's... there's scars, on your wrist,"
The warmth and color drained from Chloe's face, "That? It's nothing." She made a hasty move towards Max. Once again; the brunette sidestepped and continued to look on in worry.
"Chloe? It looks-"
"It's fine, really. Just a scratch from something I did last week." She spoke, internally cursing at how weak that answer sounded.
"They are scars, Che. I'm not blind." The photographer stepped forward. She went to grasp for said wrist when Chloe jerked back, "I said its fine."
"Let me see."
"No!" The aqua-haired girl spoke -her tone an octave louder than she wanted. She could feel her resolve beginning to crumble, having completely forgotten about those damned scars in the first place, and the emotional baggage they brought on.
"Chloe, what's going on? You know you can tell me." The brunette reassured.
'No use hiding it...' Chloe met her gaze again, "Max, really you don't."
Max wasn't sure what to say. Chloe always told her everything, even with the whole 'Didn't call you for five years' thing. She needed to think, and think fast.
And that's when it hit her.
'The only way Chloe wouldn't tell me is if... wait...'
"Are they... are they because of me?" Max's voice ousted in a whisper. She internally begged those impending fears to not be confirmed.
"I was just being stupid."
"You're dodging the question."
Chloe took a step to Max, "Dodging what? The fact that my Dad bites the dust, and my best friend abandons me?"
"I-"
"...I didn't feel anymore. As bad as it was, I wanted to feel something, anything so I slit my wrists. You were the only one who really understood me." Chloe's tone slipped to a whisper Max strained to hear.
Max closed the gap between them, she tenderly took Chloe's hand and sat next to her on her bed, "I know... I'm sorry and I know," Max's self-control slipped when Chloe cut her eye at her, "I fucked up. Royally." She tightened her hold on Chloe's hand, "But, I'm happy we're here, together again."
Chloe still didn't look Max in the eye, a childish instinct she hated herself for holding onto, "It's not that,"
"Well, then what? What is it? Chloe please, just tell me." The photographer lowered her head to try and catch Chloe's gaze.
"What if you left again," The punk finally turned back, eyes shimmering, "But instead of five years, it's forever? You know how destroyed I'd be? If this-" She held up their entwined hands, "-got taken away?"
Feeling stupid for not knowing what to say; Max wrapped Chloe in a tight hug, "I'm not gonna leave you, Chloe."
'I'm not.'
"I promise that this time; you'll come with me, no matter what anyone says." Chloe ended the hug, edging the situation even more. Max avoided looking at her, instead facing down into her lap.
"I...I could be your bodyguard."
Everything suddenly felt lighter, Max formed a small grin, "And we'd-"
"Have cars and boats and planes stashed all over?" Chloe finished the sentence.
"Of course."
Chloe embraced Max this time, "Dude, I'm sorry."
"Me too." Max ceased their embrace with a small kiss to the punk's cheek. Chloe in turn gave a sheepish grin, an awkward silence creeping into the room.
"You want to..."
Max licked her lips and leaned forward, "Definitely." Their kissing resumed. More tender, and less lustful.
Neither of them argued.