"Wear me on your Sleeve."

Fandom: AlexRusso/Mitchie Torres CR/WOWP

Author: letscall_l

Disclaimer: I don't own or mean to offend.

Warning: Fluff, femslash

Word count: 701

Pairing: Alex/Mitchie

Summary: She's back to apologize.

"I'm sorry."

"How did you get back in here?"

"There was a key, but it doesn't matter, I had to come back. I couldn't leave-"

"But you did Mitchie, you left."

Mitchie hadn't thought that she would be talking. She hadn't planned to, no, she had planned to act.

But seeing Alex. Seeing her had stopped her body like a dam stopping raging waters. Alex was bending into the fridge, the bright light from inside lit up the very early morning kitchen scene. Looking at her brought Mitchie right out of her element.

Alex was still in her pajamas, the tank top letting her hip bones jut out to Mitchie's attention. Of course, Mitchie was in a similar attire, except for the traces of fingertips that felt tattooed into the bare of her back.

The light of the fridge slowly closed leaving only the illumination of Alex in its wake. Mitchie's lips mouthed relentless 'I'm sorry's' in her presence. Alex's hands clasped on a carton of unopened milk. Mitchie was trapped between the real likeness of Alex and her carton image.

Naturally she chose the physical - the pull - Mitchie uncontrollably stepped forward. Alex moved backwards in return.

"I'm sorry."

"No."

"I'm sorry."

"You left. You left, Mitchie"

The push and pull played with them like a childish game. Alex's back was surely pressed against the refrigerator, magnets bruising her as she leaned away from Mitchie.

Mitchie's bare feet felt like they were stepping on hot coals towards her best friend. They shouldn't be acting like this. Like Mitchie was a ticking bomb about to obliterate everything Alex held dear. Everything she loved about Mitchie.

They should be just falling asleep, closely linking under covers and subtly hoping for soft touches. Not running out doors with blank eyes, whispering apologies and sneaking snacks alone. No, they shouldn't. But because of Mitchie they were.

Alex flicked the carton nervously unable to back away any further. Mitchie can see amongst the magnets above Alex's left shoulder, one holding a photograph. Slightly faded and the clip obscuring a face, but she's beaming like its 2006 and Alex is smiling. It feels like she hasn't seen such an expression since the girl stepped off the plane. Canada miles away and forgotten. Time suspended for them, for the night. A plan inevitably in ruins because Mitchie left. And Alex looks like she's the one ready to crumble after presenting her heart, gently and bravely, in her hands, to Mitchie.

The songstress breathed in, cool air missing the imprinted gloss on her lips, that certainly didn't belong to her - and blinked with heavy eyes. Be brave.

"You kissed me."

"You left."

Its all Alex can do to remind herself while skillfully avoiding Mitchie's statement, knowing that what she did rocked the girl to her very foundations. Mitchie is moving, she's positioning and Alex looks like she's ready to run.

"I'm sorry."

"Stop it."

Mitchie knows that her legs ache from pounding bare feet on concrete. Her shins feel snapped and Mitchie wants to steady herself. She wants to place her hands over the magnets like a blanket, beside Alex's head and take away the pressure behind her legs. Staring endlessly, a dream in Alex's eyes. She can see the fleeting threat in her own eyes that Alex must be able to decipher. Will she run again?

No.

"I'm sorry."

She's finally stopped apologizing for running. For breaking the bind of the night. For creating ruins in need of rebuilding. And for not returning her heart sooner.

Promised in a kiss that sticks their lips sweetly together. She doesn't look like it, but damp tears wet Alex's lips, leaving a salt and an irresistible taste. The magnets suddenly lifting not pulling. Mitchie doesn't need to see, she doesn't need to breathe. Every breath is taken - given - to Alex.

Her Alex. And her heart to her, possessed and worn on the sleeves of their skin. For the world to tie them together, always.