So, a few things:

1) We're back with more Viola's /

2) This chapter is really dense, but bare with me. Lots of flashbacks /

3) I have this unquenchable need to develop Olivia's character beyond what the movie provided. I hope there are others who share this need, but if it isn't your cup of tea, let me know! I won't be offended, promise.

Disclaimer: brief insinuation of the death of a sibling

She had tried to keep up her promise to Olivia to talk to her. She really did. But with each passing day, she'd see Olivia from afar and chicken out.

She did try to uphold one part of the promise, though. Instead of burying her thoughts and feelings, she actively indulged in them. Instead of wrapping herself around Duke, she distanced herself from him, which he hadn't seemed to mind since he was still upset with her about what happened at the party.

She didn't avoid Olivia, though, at least not in her thoughts.

Noticing her from a distance, Olivia was always surrounded by so many chatting girls; her hair and clothes always immaculate, her disposition contained and subdued. There was an air that followed Olivia everywhere, and one could almost taste it when in her presence. It was the same aura that Viola would imagine someone of royal blood would carry, and it could be slightly intimidating.

In fact, a lot of the time she felt like the court jester in Olivia's presence, going along with her own analogy.

It just didn't make sense to her. Ever since Viola met her, Olivia regarded her in such a way that shattered any illusion of unattainability, and Viola didn't particularly know what to do with Olivia's enthusiasm. Why would Olivia want to give up what she had- how could she be so ready to do so? Because it would be ignorant of Olivia to think that things wouldn't change if they were to..become something more than friends.

(She makes an exaggerated sound of satisfaction upon finding the jar of Skippy peanut butter sitting prettily in the Lennox kitchen pantry.

Olivia laughs and swats at her arm in response, the two of them giggling and scuffling around the kitchen. They keep colliding into each other like a pair of magnets, and Olivia's perfume had invaded Viola's senses for the past ten minutes, making her feel punch drunk.

In fact, she was barely aware enough of her surroundings to smell the cigar smoke and hear the news droning on in the connecting living room- something about rising oil prices due to the economic effects of Hurricane Catalina. Katrina?

She knows Olivia's father is in there, sitting on one of the plush white chaise sofas with his legs crossed at the ankle, shiny Oxfords smudging the surface of the crystal coffee table. Olivia had given him a sparkling greeting when they'd stumbled into the house. He'd given a very blasé response that had Viola shifting awkwardly, but Olivia didn't seem fazed in the slightest.

Mr. Lennox was a tall, well-groomed man with a full head of blonde, nearly white hair. He had hard blue eyes that would be quite beautiful if they weren't always half shut in a scowling squint. The only time Viola had ever seen them soften where those times when he looked at Olivia, watching his daughter chatter brightly or dote on him like her training conditioned. His eyes closely resembled Olivia's more that way. Maybe if they were always that kind, Viola could speak to him more comfortably. As it was, Viola didn't bother saying hello, knowing by now that Mr. Lennox didn't prescribe her engagement, unlike Mrs. Lennox, who's favorite hobby was to unveil Viola's poor cotillion skills.

"Viola, give me some!" Olivia leaned even more to grab the jar being waved away from her, and her laughing breathe hit the side of Viola's face deliciously. Olivia just kept getting closer and more worked up, making her want to tease the blonde even more.

"Nuh-uh, apparently this is a precious commodity in this kitchen. What have you got to repay me?"

Olivia huffed, putting her hands on her hips then, and looking very unimpressed with her. "Why would I have to repay you if you got it from me!"

"Don't blame me, honey, that's the capitalist machine for ya."

As expected, Olivia scoffed again and grabbed for the jar. Viola was about to give it to her, but then Olivia locked eyes with her, sharing a burning stare that served its purpose because that stare always unnerved Viola beyond cognitive thought. Olivia knew it, too, because it was always followed with a pleased curl of her lips.

"The state of California Legislature passes a bill by twenty-one to fifteen in the Senate, forty-one to thirty-five in the Assembly to legalize same-sex marriage, becoming the first state legislature in the U.S. to do so without judicial prompting-"

"Liberal hippies. 'Authority to override' absolutely preposterous. What in God's name do we have the U.S. Constitution for if they can get away with breaking federal law." Mr. Lennox's suddenly resentful tone draws the girl's attention away from each other. He wasn't speaking particularly loud, but it cut through any other noise in the rooms.

"Same-sex marriage-" he scoffed and put out his cigar. Gracefully unfolding his long legs, he got to his feet; he was clearly done hearing about the news for the day. Even though he was turned away, Viola could imagine the sneer curled around his lips. (She didn't like thinking that maybe it was the same as Olivia's as well.) "If it were up to them, I'd be able to legally marry a monkey next month."

Olivia's thighs, which had been pressed flush against the side of Viola's turned body, abandon their position. Her fingers curl into fists in front of her on the marble countertop, and Viola doesn't know what to do. It's as if someone had suddenly flipped the magnets' poles, and now their bodies evaded one another.

Olivia's father leaves into another section of the house with a stack of mail in his hand, but not before draining his coffee cup in the sink. It leaves him close to the two of them, and he finally takes notice of them by kissing Olivia's forehead and giving Viola a curious look. Viola quickly gives him one of her (hopefully) nicest fake smiles.

"Hello, girls," he acknowledges, not unpleasantly. Before she knows it, he's gone and Olivia is still looking down at her hands. There's a definitive pause where neither of them said a word despite something moving over them. Viola slides the peanut butter to her, but Olivia just puts the top back on and claims she isn't hungry, actually.)

But the more Viola watched from afar, actually paid attention to every move and gesture of Olivia Lennox, the more she saw what she'd been missing. Every time she'd glare at Olivia during debutante brunches, she'd miss how the blonde's smile was too purposeful, too put-on to ever be a real smile. Everything that ever irked her about Olivia's future-housewife-of-a-rich-Republican act all those months ago was suddenly flipped on it's head. Olivia may be good at playing her part, but she wasn't satisfied at all.

Now, Viola couldn't go back to ignoring the lack of authenticity in Olivia's smile and the painful stretch of her lips.

Especially when Olivia caught her eye, and suddenly the ill-fitting mask melted off like snowflakes to a warm cheek.

Viola realized something jarring. She's never seen Olivia as disarmed with anyone, not even her brother. She'd never seen Olivia have such a childlike trust with..well, anyone.

("You're the first guy at school who hasn't tried anything with me."

"Trust me, you're not my type."

"Well, why not?" Viola quickly looks up at that response to find Olivia's brightly lit expression now closed off into something more ill at ease.

When before she must have been on her tippy toes, leaning closer into their conversation, closer in towards Viola(then Sebastian), she lowered herself back down.

"You know, it's just…" Viola thought of the awkwardness of the situation if Olivia only knew her true gender. She'd surely be embarrassed, "…I don't think of you in that way. We're friends, you know."

Olivia looks at her in that same intense way she always had, seemingly taking in what she'd just been told.

The silence lets Viola's mind get away from her, "You're actually one of the few people here that I feel comfortable around."

"I feel the same way about you." She says it reverently, eyes steady and faithful on hers. Viola doesn't realize. )

Olivia always looks at Viola like she wants to give everything to her all at once and receive whatever Viola gives her in the same second. Viola hadn't ever imagined that another girl would look at her in such a way. Had figured it was just her disguise as a man that'd made Olivia act in such a way, but the looks hadn't gone away at all when the crossdressing was months behind them. Perhaps, for a while, Olivia had tried to not look at her in that way.

("I'm just glad you're here," Olivia lets out in a rush, flattening her palm against the material of her dress for the fortieth time. "I've never brought anyone to one of these before. I honestly never thought of bringing anyone. I'm sure this is not how you want to spend your Sunday, and I'm sure Mother isn't keen on anyone outside of the family attending, but I mean, she can't really say anything about me bringing you…"

In a dress of her own, Viola reaches out to take one of her hands before it can perform the soothing gesture again.

"You're okay, Liv. " Viola gives the gentlest smile she's ever given to the girl beside her. Begging eyes drink in the sureness she provides. "Thank you for asking me to come."

They stand at the outskirts of the cemetery as the rest of the patrons, most older and finely dressed, mosey over to the leading commemorative service. Twelve yards away, the headstone of one "Curtis Lennox" lay, awaiting his sister's arrival, now with one other.)

Olivia who, two classes ago, had scribbled "I want to kiss you" on Viola's open lab notebook and looked at her like she knew Viola would instantly flush upon reading it. Viola, of course, hadn't been able to keep still the whole class and stuttered whenever they locked eyes. Before class ended, Olivia had carefully knocked their hands together during one of their many heated stares. It took just a simple tilt of her hand, but Viola's breathe absolutely caught, and the bell saved her from having a damn heatstroke right there in Chem class.

Unfortunately for her sanity, Olivia had promptly manhandled her into the nearest girl's restroom to make do on her wish. She'd kissed her so well behind the stalls that Viola wasn't sure if the heat in her belly would ever cool.

(It was embarrassing what Olivia could make her feel like by doing next to nothing compared to her string of ex-boyfriends and flings. Sure she'd had erotic experiences before, but not so layered as this. Nothing like this.)

In fact, every time she remembered the little note was still in her notebook, inside her bag, she got an extra spring in her step.

"You're happy for someone who looks like they got into a fight with Jackie Chan."

"Ha ha, very funny. Hello to you too, Maria." Viola quipped, mood not deterred from the girl's appearance.

"Uh-huh," the shorter brunette snickered back.

"Whatever, you should see the other guy."

"From what I saw, he left completely unscathed."

"Yeah, well, I meant you should see him because he's pathetic and has the face of a cheater," Viola griped.

Maria rolled her eyes and laughed at her, but Viola expected no more. They kept walking for a while towards their shared English class.

"Your nose doesn't look too hot." Maria had a proficient skill in stating the obvious. "So it wasn't broken, then?"

There was deep discoloration under her eyes because of her nose injury, and the actual bridge was slightly swollen and cut deep purple. She'd wanted to cover it with concealer, but the doc had told her that was a no-no until later in the healing process.

"No, just a fracture."

She then found herself smiling and blushing, remembering how Olivia had offhandedly said it looked hot when she'd first saw her the morning after the game.

("Oliviaa. Stop looking. I know you keep looking at it; I see your eyes move."

"It's really not that bad, Viola. In fact, there's something appealing about it.")

"What are you smiling about? God, you all have been acting weird lately. I don't remember what a normal day at Illyria looks like anymore."

"You're such a Drama Queen."

"Oh, that is rich. Look who's talking. The Queen herself thou which brings the drama," Maria drawls, "You have a main character complex, Viola, don't even try me."

Viola's jaw drops open, but she really shouldn't be so shocked. Maria's got a sharp tongue.

Although, maybe she was on to something. Perhaps Viola had been looking at it wrong- thinking of herself as the court jester and Olivia the Queen.

"Maybe I am a Queen too," Viola whispered.

Maria looked at her weird, but just shook her head as if to say, "I'm not even going to go there".

And that was the end of it. Because as long as no crazy crossdressing scenario was happening at Illyria, all was normal. As long as Olivia Lennox wasn't suddenly getting kissed by Duke Orsino's girlfriend at parties or kissing girls in the bathroom next to Chem Lab, all was on track.

With everything that had become clear in the past couple of days, a very clear, very big wall still stood in front of them.

For so long, she'd been trying to avoid this feeling of repression. She hated feeling confined, but she couldn't see how she and Olivia could exist without the shackles of public opinion. Family opinion. It was terrifying.

But.

Olivia had said she wanted them to communicate. Wanted them to figure it out together. Viola knew she was ready when remembering this fact gave her a great deal of comfort, and suddenly the lonely, imprisoned feeling eased up on her throat. She thought of Olivia caring enough about her to want to try to be something more, and she could suddenly breathe again.