Summary:Emily and Hanna make small talk over maraschino cherries until Ali finally shows up to the sleepover. Pre-show Hannily friendship with hints at Hannily romance. One-shot.
Warnings:Mild swearing. Mentions of bulimia and body image issues. Comments and criticism are extremely welcome; especially regarding characterization/pacing/inaccuracies/whether it offended you. I hope it doesn't, but please let me know if it does because I handled character interactions or thoughts the wrong way. No disrespect intended :)
Author's Note: Fun fact one: I hate maraschino cherries and Twilight. Heaven knows why I wrote a whole story about them… Fun fact two: I don't own Pretty Little Liars or its characters, because if I did, there would be a lot more Hannily moments and a lot less leopard print.
~!~
Hanna never means to - she's made a habit of looking away from the mirror if she has the choice - but sometimes she inadvertently sees herself in the curve of a glass, the sheen of a puddle, and her grotesque image grows all the more grotesque as she grimaces at herself. Of course, she would never want anyone to notice. Just another quirk of hers that she hopes people will ignore.
But one day she's in Emily's kitchen, having hitched a ride with the other girl because her mom's car is out of commission. She's sitting at a table making small talk with the swimmer as they wait for the others to arrive and start the night's sleepover, and then Hanna is caught scowling at the lid of a masonry jar.
"Something wrong?" The other girl glances down at Hanna's new object of attention, and quickly reaches out to twist it open. "There. Did it for you," she smirks, making a show of flexing her arm.
I can't believe I got caught doing that.Hanna half-nods appreciatively, chewing her lip. Hopefully the action will redirect the blood flow threatening to pool in her cheeks. "Thanks." She shakes her head as if stirring up the thoughts inside, and then the shadow of a smile is offered up. "Sorry, what were we talking about?"
Emily's eyebrows crease slightly in that characteristic way they do when she's concerned, but she doesn't push it. "Oh...just someone whose name starts with Sean and ends with Ackard." She finishes the sentence with a sly smile.
Hanna's previous embarrassment dissipates, replaced with affectionate irritation. She grabs a maraschino cherry out of the jar before them. "Can we not discuss boys right now? When Ali gets here you know that's all she'll talk about." She breaks off the stem, pointing it at Emily as a grimace steals across her face. "And I don'tneed to hear about your perfect werewolf boyfriend either, because every time I think of him it means I end up thinking about your sex life!"
Emily's jaw slacks open, a startled laugh breaking out of her. "Gross, Han!"
"Yeah, well, who do you think it's worse for? You were the one who did the deed, not me."
Emily's eyebrows raise incredulously as she claims a cherry for herself. "I'm more concerned about the fact that you called him a werewolf. Does that mean I'm Bella? I'm offended!"
"Fine, I'm sorry." Hanna rolls her eyes. "I admit you're way hotter than Kristen Stewart. Better?"
Now it's Emily who's trying not to blush. "I'm just saying, I'm no lovesick wannabe vampire."
"Course not." Hanna agrees.
Emily smiles, and Hanna suddenly notices that it's...adorable, really. Hanna is certain that a dozen fairies have just burst into existence because of it. Too bad Hanna's about to wipe that smile off her face.
"I mean, we just went over this. You're a lovesick wannabe werewolfat very least. I hope Coogan didn't leave any love bites." Hanna shudders at the image; it's more unsettling than she'd thought it would be.
"Hanna!" Emily screeches, throwing a dozen cherry stems her way.
"Not the hair! Keep those AWAY from my hair!" Hanna wails, swatting at the air.
Once their laughter dies down, Hanna targets Emily with a glare.
"You deserved it," the tanner girl smirks defensively.
"Whatever..." Hanna picks up a fallen cherry stem with enough difficulty to make her blush. She glances up and sees Emily staring back at her. For some reason, they don't say anything, but Hanna makes a note to memorize this moment - the fond gleam in Em's eyes, the rise and fall of her chest as she catches her breath, the sticky sweet taste of cherries they've just shared (and used as artillery), the smell of home cooking tinged with Emily's subtly sweet body spray. It smells like home. It feels like home. Hanna always feels this way when's she's with Emily - safe and comfortable. Probably more so than with anyone else.
"Hey. I'm really glad we're friends, you know?" Emily says this with her fairy-spawning smile. That statement, and the way she says it and smiles as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, is just so Emilyof her that the blonde can hardly breathe, choked silent by the affection that swells in her lungs. Emily reaches out with her right hand to take Hanna's, and Hanna adds two new sensations to her memory bank. First, the impossibly soft feel of Emily's fingers tickling against her palm. Second, the wave of sincere, grateful happiness that crashes over her and manifests as the goosebumps now prickling over her arms.
"So am I. Even though your fashion choices kill me sometimes...you mean a lot to me, Em." The honesty of it makes her voice a little husky. Emily grins shyly, and Hanna grins back, and they sit there in silence, holding each other's hands.
Damn, Emily's hand is reallysoft. Is this what chlorine does for your skin? Or maybe that smile really does bring fairies into existence. Magical skin care fairies who have nothing better to do than make the most gorgeous girl in the world a little more gorgeous. Hanna almost voices the thought, but she figures it's pretty weird, even for her.
"Hey girls! …Whoa, I didn't realize it wasdate night."
From Spencer or Aria, the statement would have been a gentle tease, said with a laugh and no judgment at all. From Alison, it's an accusation, accompanied by a cruel grin and meant to maim.
The silence that comes after Ali's entrance makes Hanna uncomfortable. Slowly, she withdraws her hand to smooth a wrinkle on her shirt. The taste of cherry in her mouth instantly becomes cloying, and Hanna notices that Ali's sophisticated perfume smothers the smell of anything else.
Emily stares at her empty hand, before clearing her throat nervously and taking it away from the table as well. "Hey, Ali. Are Spence and Aria behind you? Where are they?"
Ali shrugs and rolls her eyes. "Hell if I know. Spencer's probably got her big nose stuck in some novel, and I guess Aria's trading animal pelts with Toby for her newest outfit," she says with a laugh. Emily immediately laughs with her. Hanna drums her fingers on her thigh, watching Ali suddenly pat her pockets with a frown.
"Ugh, I left my phone at home."
"I'll get it," Emily offers too quickly, too eagerly, and Alison smirks as if she knows something about Emily that the girl doesn't know herself.
Hanna's eyes widen with the realization that maybe when she'd called Emily lovesick she wasn't too far off the mark. And it makes her feel as unsettled as when she'd accidentally thought of Ben in bed with Emily.
"Thanks, Em, you're the best." Hanna watches Emily smile shyly at the praise and leave the room. Now she's alone with the queen bee…
It's then that Ali turns her back to the door and shifts her attention to Hanna. "Oh, sweetie, did you eat all those yourself?" She shakes her head, gesturing to the mason jar with only a few cherries left at the bottom. "I thought we talked about this…I mean, you're beautiful, Han."
What? No, I'm not. But Hanna looks up at Ali anyways, heart quivering in tentative hope at what Ali might say next. Maybe she'll drop the cherries.
"I mean, you've got gorgeous eyes, I'd steal them from you if I could. And I already steal your clothes all the time, because your fashion sense is impeccable, if course." Hanna almost smiles. "But…"
Here it comes, the kick that Hanna had been dreading.
"Football players like Sean can't see that. They have a type, you know. A body type. You're not doing yourself any favors here, Han. You don't want to be Hefty Hanna forever, do you? And I don't want to see you get hurt." Ali pats Hanna's shoulder. Her hand is cold and her nails are sharp.
Hanna wants to say something. She wants to defend herself, and the list of possible responses is building in her head:
"The jar was already half empty when we started, Ali, chill out."
"Emily was eating them too, Ali, ok?"
"Sean's not as shallow as you are, Ali."
"Girl, stop right there. Last time I checked, you weren't Gordon Ramsay, so could you keep your nose out of my culinary choices?"
But she knows Ali's points are all too true. She knows the truth of it every time she looks at the lid of a maraschino cherry jar or the back of a silver spoon. She knows it when she looks at Emily and Ali and Spencer and Aria in their slim, symmetrical perfection. She knows Alison is right as always, and instead of trying to defend herself, Hanna tries her hardest not to cry in front of Alison.
So instead she nods, eyes on her lap, and Ali pats her shoulder again before she leaves to put her bag in Emily's room. A sigh escapes, and Hanna rises as well to follow her. That's when she notices Emily standing frozen in the doorway. She'd presumably doubled back to ask Ali for a key or something. No doubt she'd heard the entire exchange.
Hanna stares at her, mortified. Emily's eyes are wide, eyebrows creased as far as they can go. Her eyes flicker from the jar lid to Hanna's face, and she knows. The awkward scene from earlier suddenly makes sense.
Damn it, Alison.Their friendship is still fresh, so the prettier blonde hasn't discussed Hanna's weight so openly in front of the others yet. She always prefers to do so when they're alone together. Ali should have turned around. Emily shouldn't have doubled back. Hanna shouldn't have eaten those cherries.
The silence drives Hanna insane. Pressure builds at the pit of Hanna's stomach, and she wants to vomit. At least it'll get the food out of her system.
"Hanna." Emily whispers. The hollow thread of sound wraps around the breath in Hanna's throat, hard enough to asphyxiate.
"You should get Ali's phone," Hanna mumbles, dropping her eyes to the floor. She hates this – feeling like a charity case, feeling worthy of nothing but pity, feeling so ashamed and hurt by her own choices, feeling like she's breaking Emily's heart just by virtue of existence. Take your pick.
Emily shakes her head. "Uh, it's not important. She'll live." Emily crosses and uncrosses her arms. "I just…Han, you're beautiful, inside and out. No matter how many times Ali says something like that to you, I hope you know that."
Hanna shrugs. Hollow words, right?
Emily tries again. "She's just looking out for you – "
Hanna's suddenly dizzy with anger, but a dark sadness washes away the heat of it. Of course Emily's defending Ali. Of course. Hanna knows she's right, Ali is a great friend who only has her best interests at heart, but having Emily state it at the moment is inexplicably infuriating. "You should go, Emily." Hanna's eyes are a watery blue, the tears in them dancing and shimmering and refusing to stay still. "Wouldn't want to keep her waiting, would you?"
Emily bites her lip and looks away. "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
Hanna shrugs again and Emily's heart clenches painfully. The brunette has never seen her so apathetic. Whenever she's angry, Hanna always fights back with sass and a clever remark. She tries a different tactic.
"Han…" Emily says carefully, stepping closer. "Do you remember that time we went to the park, just us? Because everyone else cancelled? Remember what happened when I tried to get you to play tetherball with me?"
Suddenly, as if part of a plot point in a fanfiction story, Hanna and Emily both trip and faceplant into a flashback.
"Hanna, I'm not doing this for the rest of the day." Emily's waving a paper fan in front of Hanna's face because Hanna asked her to, and although Aria's eyes are platforms large and expressive enough to play entire movies on without losing a single detail, it's Hanna who has distilled the puppy dog expression into a potent weapon. The girl needs to be careful if she ever visits the pound because its owner would probably end up locking Hanna into a kennel.
"It's too hot to do anything else," Hanna complains. "I told you we should've stayed home. Or gone to the mall at least. I saw this outfit the other day that was perfect for Aria!"
Emily looked at her skeptically. "Did it involve leopard print?"
"Rainbow leopard print. Hey, why'd you stop?"
Emily hops up. "Feel free to stay here and fan yourself, but I'm going to actually do something." She looks around before her eyes settle on a familiar park structure. "OH MY GOD. Hanna. They have tetherball!"
"Ugh, I'm not – OW MY ARM." Emily yanks Hanna up and practically frog marches her to the pole.
Hanna squints irritably. "How are you supposed to do anything with the ball if it's stuck here?"
"I can tell you've never watched Napoleon Dynamite."
Hanna thinks back to history class. "The French midget? He was important for some reason, wasn't he…"
Emily interrupts Hanna's flashback within their flashback to teach her the finer intricacies of tetherball.
"Ok, I've got it," Hanna nods, staring at the tetherball with intense concentration. "If I win this game, you're taking me to the mall."
"Fine, fine," Emily agrees distractedly. A brunette with a bob has walked into their vicinity, and Emily could swear she knows her from somewhere. An inner dialogue has started in Emily's head.
Whoa, she's cute. I MEAN WHAT. I meant cute like in a totally straight way! Like a puppy! Like Hanna! Hanna's so cute. LIKE A PUPPY, THOUGH. Why am I even defending myself to myself? This is ridiculous. Do I know that girl? I swear I do. Maybe she goes to Rosewood too? OH MY GOD SHE'S LOOKING THIS WAY. Act natural! It's not like you've been staring at her for the past few minutes? In that way that straight people do? SHE'S WAVING. What do I do?! I have to wave back, right?! Smile and wave! Ok, I'm waving, maybe I should go talk to –
BAM!
"I win!" Hanna crows.
"Man down," Emily moans. "Oh my god, Hanna, you're the worst."
Hanna doesn't pause in her victory dance. "Nope, I'm the best! 'Cause I just beat Emily Fields at tetherball! And you owe me a visit to the mall! Yeah!"
Emily groans. "I'm never getting up. I'm so embarrassed. Please tell me no one's watching."
"Actually, there's some girl laughing at you, the one you were waving at…oh! It's Paige! The one on Spencer's field hockey team! Hey Paige!" Hanna shouts, waving with a cocky grin.
"The worst," Emily echoes, covering her face with her hands.
Realizing her friend may be more vulnerable to public scrutiny than she'd first thought, Hanna rolls her eyes and walks over to where Emily is still laying in the grass. "Here, watch." She throws her arm back and sucker punches the tetherball so that it spins a 270 and hits Hanna in the head, knocking her down next to her friend.
"Hey, Em," she grins. "Better?"
Emily can't stop laughing. "You're forgiven."
Hanna finally relents to a laugh herself. "You were being ridiculous, Emily…"
"I was," Emily smiles, grateful that she's gotten Hanna to lose her frown. "You have a habit of putting me in my place in the funniest way possible, and I'm really grateful for that, you know? So forget about what Ali said, and smile for me. Or else I'll have to bite you," she jokes, trying to prevent her voice from shaking.
Hanna hesitates, then stretches her mouth into an ugly grin. "Am I doing it right?"
"Perfect," Emily says, and the truth of that scrapes up her throat on its way out, because the words are whispered an octave lower than she'd meant them to be. Emily walks over tentatively and hugs her, refusing to release the blonde until she feels Hanna press back against her. The taller girl feels so relieved that she kisses Hanna's forehead, hoping Hanna will feel in that gesture the words Emily doesn't know how to say.
"Tomorrow, do you want to go watch a movie? Just you and me," Emily states after a long silence. "We can watch Twilight and make fun of all the characters."
Hanna smiles again. "Sounds like my kind of night."
Emily grins and leads her upstairs, and Hanna's pleased to say her left hand is just as soft as her right. Having Emily hold her hand like this, and seeing her look back and grin as if she's lucky that Hanna is still there with her, it makes Hanna's heart skip a beat, and for a second she really does feel beautiful.
~!~