Hello friends! So, here's the next chapter in this little story of mine. So, this is pretty short, but I'm going to update later today with part 2 of this chapter, because together, it was way to long. So, you won't have to wait that long ;) Anyway, most of this chaoter is a flashback, but whatever. I also wrote this on my phone, so please forgive me for any mistakes.
I own nothing but the plot. All mistakes are mine.
"Do you want kids?"
It was an innocent question. You were in the Stateroom, painting your toenails. Hanna's mom was out, and the Spa had just closed. After they dried, you were going to walk around, doing whatever. You had a bottle of dark purple nail polish in your hand, and was brushing it over your toes when those 4 words glided out of Hanna's mouth. You froze.
"W-what? Why?" You trip over your words. She shrugs, moving on to her next foot.
"I dunno. Just curious. Also, we're on a Disney Cruise. There are little kids everywhere." You force a chuckle out of your mouth. You also have no idea why that question just sent shivers down your spine and made your fingers shake.
"Oh. Well, I mean, maybe. I've never really thought about it." You say, semi-truthfully. Because you have thought about it. The only problem is you might be kinda-sorta-almost gay. Therefore, you can't exactly have kids the "normal" way. And you don't really want to have sex with a cup, let alone a guy you've never met.
"Huh." She says, nodding. "I do. Want kids, I mean." She says, blowing her foot. You bite your tongue.
"Any particular reason?" She shrugs again.
"No. I just do." She says thoughtfully. You're both silent for a moment. Then he speaks again. "Maybe we should have kids." She says, and you nearly drop your polish. Your heart jumps in your chest, and nearly out your throat.
"W-w-what?" You stutter, unsuccessfully trying to keep your breathing even.
"Well, think about it. Yeah, I know we're both girls. But, we're already best friends, we're like an old married couple, you're hot, I'm hot, if we had kids, they'd be born really cute and grow up really hot." She says, continuing to paint her toes like nothing's happening.
"Y-yeah, w-well..." You say, feeling highly flustered. She looks up.
"Did I scare you? Emily, we're in tenth grade. I'm not saying we have to run off and elope or something. It's just a thought. But really, that would be awesome. We'd go out for dinner, and ice cream, and go to the park. That would be so freaking cute! I know it would have to happen some other way than what's considered normal, but who cares. We're not normal anyway." She says, finishing her toe-based masterpiece and shutting the bottle.
Your silent. She looks up at you. "Emily...what is up with you? A few weeks ago, you would've been rolling on the floor laughing at the thought of little mini Hanna's and Emily's running around. Are you sick or something? You've been acting...odd." She says, concern in her voice. You swallow, suddenly feeling like the walls are closing in.
"I...uh..." You struggle for words. You want to scream were you not there when you kinda...kissed me? Was that your evil twin sister or something? Because I think that was you, Hanna! And I really want you to do it again, but I'm also scared shitless of you doing it again! But you can't really do that. Not just because you're to scared, mainly because you're too...deprived of oxygen somehow.
"Are you mad? Please, Em. If I did something wrong, tell me." She says, tears in her voice. You're shaking. You're also unintentionally hurting her, and you're heart feels like it's 88 times to small for your chest. "Em? Are you okay? Answer me, babe. You look like you're about to faint." She says, walking to your side of the room. Blackness swirls in your vision.
"Em?" Her laying her hand over your's is finally what it takes to completely break you. A long-awaited sob escapes your throat, and you shoot up, bolting to the door and shakily and crazily undoing the lock. You fly down the hallway, ignoring weird looks, and Hanna's far-off calls of "Em! Emily, what's wrong?"
You take 2 stairs at a time, twisting your ankle twice. When you reach the top deck, you run to the semi-secret stairwell and to the top of the funnel. It's a tiny space, but it's awesome. It's occupied by only a few chairs and a table, and many passengers don't even know it exists. You only know because you'd made friends with a crew member.
You run to the railing. Only when you're by yourself do you let the tears fall. They run backwards of your face, flitting into the distance.
It's comical, almost.
The smallest bit of sun is slinking off the horizon, and the sea is a seemingly-endless blanket of dark, dark blue. Stars are placed here and there in the sky, like glitter on a young kid's art project. Everything is so beautiful, except your emotions.
There's a big black cloud around your heart that just won't lift. All you want is the cloud to lift, but it's not your choice.
It's her's.
And she doesn't even know she could lift the cloud. You can't make her fall in love with you. You love her. You love her so fucking much.
And you thought, as a naïve little girl, when you fall in love, it would be magical and wonderful like on TV. But no, if you fall in love like Emily Fields, everything's just a big black cloud that won't lift.
"Why the fuck did it have to be her?" You wonder out loud. You want to know why you couldn't have a crush on the girl in your English class, that's openly gay. You don't even really care about that. You care that you're hopelessly and endlessly in love with your straight best friend.
Your salty tears burn your eyes, but you don't care. The pain feels good. It's welcomed. You want the outside to hurt as much as the inside. You don't even know why you're freaking out. Maybe because of what Hanna said. Maybe that's she kissed you, and hasn't even made an effort to acknowledge it. Maybe you just fucking need to cry.
"Pull yourself together, Emily." You mutter witheringly to yourself, furiously wiping your eyes. Finally, you get a shiver.
You didn't even realize Hanna followed you until you hear her voice. "Emily..." Your hands shake.
"Hey. I-I'm fine, Han. Just go back to the room. I'll be there." You say after a pause, trying to hide the shakiness in your voice and wiping your damp hands on your bare legs.
"No, you're in pain, Em. Talk to me, love." She says, walking up to you. Please don't touch me, Han. I'm not confident that I won't throw myself off the side of the boat if you do. You think, trembling. Finally, you feel her hands in your arms. "Emily, why won't you talk to me? Did I do something wrong?" She says, tears in her voice now. Your heart shakes and shutters. You don't mean to be hurting her.
"No, I'm fine." You say, but you know you're not convincing anyone.
"Emily...please. Something's wrong. I just want to help." She says, her voice breaking. You slowly manage to turn around. "Oh, Em." She breathes, and you can imagine why. You're tired, you're makeup-less, you've been crying for who knows how long. You put your hands to you face, ashamed. Carefully, she reaches up and pulls them down.
You nearly gag. Not because of her. Because everything's just so...cheesy. The way the sun's setting, the way your heart's beating so fast you can barely breath, the way she's looking into your eyes. Everything seems like it's right out of Titanic or something.
"Emily...what's going on?" Her breath wraps around your face.
Suddenly, all at once, your brain, heart, and your entire being exploded. And, yet again, Hanna Marin's lips are on yours.
You don't move. Your furious shaking stops. Hanna's hands hold your cheeks like she's scared to let go. You can tell, she desperately wants you to return her actions. And you desperately want to. All you've wanted was for this to happen for weeks now, and it finally was, and you were frozen.
Her hands pull you closer somehow. Her lips taste like the gourmet pasta she had for dinner, and strawberry milkshake.
Hanna Marin is going to be the death of you.
Finally, you get a burst of...something. Your hands shoot up and grab the back of her head. She smiles into your lips. "Emily..." She whispers between kisses. "What...is...wrong?" She says. But now you can't answer. You're to wrapped up in Hanna Marin's lips. Wait, scratch that. You're to wrapped up in everything that's Hanna Marin.
And you're pretty sure it's always gonna be this way.
"Han, you don't have to." I say, my heart swelling. She shakes her head.
"Yes, Emily, I do. Not because you're obliging me to. Because I haven't in years. And I need to." Hanna says, looking down and blushing. A small smile spreads over my lips.
It's nearly 9 at night, and poor Hanna hasn't left my side, except to use the bathroom, and even then I waited outside. She is so...broken. It aches to see her this way. My Hanna, the girl in a silk top and designer jeans, who'd slide around on a hardwood floor for hours, is gone. The girl who would smile in the face of danger, and would smirk in the face of a challenge, is gone.
She's replaced by...this Hanna.
A girl who cowers in the face of a hand, whether it's going to hurt her or not. A girl who shudders at the thought of any man. A girl who clings to the "only one she knows she can trust", as she put it.
A girl who's...broken.
Her heart's been ripped into pieces. Her innocence has been torn from her. I don't really know what's happened to her, but I can imagine. Her damage is worse than I thought it would be. The few times she'd looked away from me, I'd googled how to treat a victim of "Domestic Violence and Intimate Abuse", which only made me feel worse. It had used phrases like "extremely fragile" and "doesn't trust easily". It made me feel like Hanna was a statistic. It also made me feel like any little thing could leave her in ruins. Hell, she already is in ruins.
"Han, are you...sure? I don't want to make you uncomfortable..." I say, rubbing my arm. She shakes her head furiously. I had showed her the room I'd prepared for her, and she said she wanted to sleep in my bed.
"Yes, Emily. Please. I don't want to be alone." She says, tears in her voice again. I sigh, and she looks at me, pleading. It's not that I don't want her in my bed or anything. It's that I don't want to accidentally do something that'll even remotely make her regret this decision.
"Okay, if you're sure. But I want you to know, you can stay as far away from me, or come as close to me as you feel comfortable with, okay?" I say, walking from the guest room. She nods, but looks down and blushes. I smile at her. Sure, she's been through her own version of hell. But she's still so freaking adorable.
"Can I see Brook's room?" She says as we walk through the hallway. I nod at her, surprised. "I'm guessing this is it?" She says pointing to Brook's door. It has a 3-D painting of Brook's name on it, against a background of New York City. I chuckle. She looks at me for permission, before opening the door. Another thing I read about victims; they feel they need permission for everything. I could've guessed that, though. Everything was "can I?" "Are you sure?". I didn't mind, it just makes me sad.
She looks around, smiling brightly. She observes the wall decor. It's the skyline of New York, and against the wall is Brook's white bed, with her light purple bedspread that matches the wall color. She smiles at the closet, stuffed to the gills with colorful, childlike clothing. "My kinda kid." Hanna says quietly, her nose wrinkling. I smile. That's more of the Hanna Marin I remember.
She smiles at the glow-in-the-dark star stickers on the ceiling, and the shag rug. She smiles at the colored pencils, notebooks and coloring books scattered across her desk. She smiles at everything.
Finally, she looks at the last wall. First, all she notices is the poster of Anna and Elsa from Frozen, and another poster of the New York Skyline. "Your daughter loves New York." She notes, thoughtfully.
Then, she sees it. The many pictures messily taped in between the framed posters. They're all of her. Her and me, more specifically. A few of her school photos, a few of us from vacations, and just random events. Her eyes widen, and tears fill them, yet again. I rush to her side.
"She...why does she have pictures of me?" Hanna says tearfully. I tense, worrying profusely.
"She...she loves you, Han. She really does. I already told you, she calls you her other mommy." I say gently. Hanna covers her mouth with her hand. Finally, I see her lips protrude from under her palm, spreading into a smile.
"Well...Emily, I think I love her too."
So yeah. Guess who finally meets in the next chapter? Don't worry, you'll get it within a few hours :):):) As always, thank you for all the alerts I get on this story! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! ~Ella