Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi.
Author's Note: Some Torreno fluff, just because. Dedicated to my Torreno amigos, you guys are the best, xoxo!
Imogen saw the world in the brightest of colors. He could swear to it that she didn't know what a dark color looked like. Sometimes, he'd wonder if her eyes were special to see the brightest hues in various colors; an artist's eyes.
He thought it was a tragedy that her genetics had betrayed the brightness of who she was. Dark hair, dark eyes, tanned skin; things that somehow managed to fit her well like a mismatched puzzle.
He swore up and down that to see through Imogen's eyes you'd have to be as crazy as she was. To be trapped inside your own skull thinking the world was one way, when really, it was another. Rude as it seemed, he knew it was true. She was a psycho, wasn't she? She wore cat ears, pranced around in tights. She was out of her mind.
But being with her, he knew it wasn't true. He was judging her. Throwing her away into a box because she was different, like him.
He knew, really knew, that she was the brightest color, born to paint everyone she touched. Leaving her mark on them, whether they wanted it or not.
When she thought of Adam, she'd think of his eyes. They were soft and the deepest shade of blue. His eyes told a story of tragedy, loss, peace, love, everything that made up his being was trapped in those eyes.
She'd found herself getting lost in them, wanting to wrap herself around their story and to sink into their depth, to be lost inside forever. He'd always snap her out of the trance he'd unknowingly created with a shove, a brush of his hand, a phrase. He'd tease her with his promise of forever just to unknowingly take it away.
How she wanted to wander those eyes forever and hear the story of his soul replay to her.
She wanted to fall into the abyss of the blue hue, never to be found. To just get lost inside of his soul, and maybe even someday become a part of the story those eyes would tell one day.
It was easy for them to collide. The two begin grow a friendship that they needed in their life.
They were both lonely, though neither would ever admit it.
They were both proud, and needed to prove to everyone, but more importantly themselves, that they could stand alone. They needed the world to know that they could fight their own battles… even if it meant that they were truly alone.
The day WhisperHug had their first house party was the day Adam noticed something new about Imogen.
They had been drinking, but not enough to blame the alcohol for the occurrences that had happened – granted what did happen was innocent enough.
Adam learned Imogen had the softest kisses that tasted of sweet bubblegum and strawberries. Her fingers were calloused, but soft. Gentle and teasing as they traced his skin, making it burn and explode into goosebumps.
He also learned that she was reserved.
Tugging on the hem of her shirt, she gasped, pulling away from him.
"I'm sorry, I –" she bit her lip, her cheeks stained red and she looked up. "Sorry," she whispered, turning and running back out to the party, leaving him confused.
She gasped for air, and she couldn't help but wondering if she was drowning in the weight of what had happened.
Her and Adam. Adam and her.
Impossible, even if the tingling on her lips told her otherwise.
She couldn't believe the situation she was in. Kissing her best friend at a house party? Could she get any more cliché?
Sighing, she twirled the bottle in her hand, letting the cool air slap her heated cheeks. Breathing in the cool autumn air, she enjoyed the solitude of her outside world.
She was glad it was too cold for anyone to want to leave the protection of the heated home to venture outside, other than to smoke, because she needed desperately to get her bearings.
She had kissed Adam, and if the butterflies in her stomach were any hint, she liked it.
But here is the thing about cliché house party kisses: they usually never mean much to the other person.
And only idiots fall for their friends, after all.
He searched high and low for her, but eventually after people said they hadn't seen the girl, he gave up.
The party had lost his appeal, and suddenly he wanted to go home.
Sighing, he went outside, desperate for air. When he tugs on the door, he sees her there, leaning against the wall, looking up at the sky.
For the first time, he sees her in a different light.
Here, under the stars, she is not the weird girl he knew in grade ten. Here, she isn't even the girl he got to know all these months and kissed. Here, she is quiet, her color bright, but dulled at the same time.
Here, she looks broken. Her face is sad, like someone who'd seen and experienced too much pain and sadness, and he sees everything sprawled out about her. He is seeing the real her. The girl who hid behind the brightest smile, the colors, and could make him smile and feel whole was a broken lonely girl, trying desperately to give everyone the happiness she couldn't have.
She was like him.
She turns when she hears a door click shut, the illusion of her solitude broken.
All they can do is stare at each other; both daring the other to speak first, but she can't open her mouth. She doesn't even know what to tell him, because what's done is done.
Adam rubs the back of his neck, looking down at the grass nervously. "Hey," he sighs out, his cheeks tinged red, and his breath coming up in a fog that fades quickly.
"Hi," she says, putting her arms around herself in a gesture that would be to protect herself from the cold, but he doesn't think that's the case.
"This is crap," Adam says suddenly, hating the tension between them. "We kissed, it's not that big of a deal."
Her neck snaps up, and the weight of his misspoken words hangs in the air, heavy and harsh.
She can feel a pain in her heart, and tears flood into her eyes. "Oh," she says quietly.
Adam's eyes widen, and he realizes what he's done. "No, I didn't mean it like that, I –"
But she cuts him off. "No, I get it." Her voice is indifferent, and she turns from him. "It was a mistake. I'm sorry."
He tries to fix what he's done, but she's gone, and he's left cursing at himself for once again being so stupid.
Their tension clings in the air, like dust settling after a heavy battle has been fought.
They don't know what they are anymore, and it's unnerving.
Adam tries to rectify what he's done, but Imogen won't hear it. She flashes him the fakest of smiles, trying desperately to convince him that she is okay. That there is absolutely nothing to worry about and that everything between them is fine.
Fine.
He hates that word.
It sounds so fake.
It was a word used in a failed attempt to gloss over a problem, and pretend that nothing is wrong, when in fact the problem is starring you directly in the face.
He can't take it anymore.
They were the last ones out of practice, he made sure of that.
She is curt with his attempt at small talk, and tries to breeze past him, claiming that she needs to get home right away, but he grabs her arm gently, pulling him back.
She looks at his hand locked on her elbow, then into his eyes, not saying a word.
His heart is beating wildly in his chest, and he wonders if she's scared, too. If she is terrified of what could happen in this moment like he is.
He leans in, his lips capturing hers in the softest kiss he's hand in a long time. His hands cup her cheeks, and her hands go to the base of his neck.
He pulls away, looking at her, and they don't say anything, but the dust has cleared, and there is no longer another battle waiting on the sidelines. Now there is just them, and the aftermath of this simple change.
"I have to go," she says quietly, gathering her things, leaving him. But this time it feels different. It's not a regret this time, it was the beginning of their change, and he grins, grasping her hand as they walk out together.