A/N

This is still a first draft, but, if anyone reads this, please enjoy.

The humming came first. Slow, gradual, like the trickling of a water drop down to the sink. It was even louder in the quietness of Chloe's room, with the morning's sun touching everything through her red curtain.

Chloe didn't shift from her position on the bed—one arm pillowing her head as she lied against the wall—and neither did Rachel—lying flat on her back, her eyes on the ceiling.

Chloe was used to Rachel humming, so she paid it no mind. Rachel was, after all, someone who refused to stay still. Someone who liked to always be moving, always doing something, anything. "We've gotta carpe diem, Chlo," Rachel told her once, her grin crinkling her eyes.

But they had very different views on seizing the moment. Rachel's involved skydiving and swallowing fun pills at parties. Chloe's involved wrapping an arm around a slender waist, pulling it flush against her front, tilting her head down to crash her chapped lips against one that's fuller, glossier.

So, no, Chloe would not carpe diem then, and no, Chloe paid no mind when Rachel's humming intensified now. Instead, she scrolled through mindless bullshit on social media—liking a post that had a "fuck the authority" attitude without reading the contents inside.

Rachel's humming was so loud she was practically singing. Chloe sighed, thumped her phone against her stomach, and gave Rachel an unimpressed look. "Alright, what the hell?"

Rachel smiled, her eyes never straying away from the ceiling. She huffed. "Sorry, sorry. I guess I'm just in a waltzy mood."

"A what mood?"

"You know—" Rachel glanced at Chloe with a raised eyebrow "—a waltzy mood. Like, I wanna waltz."

"You know how to waltz?"

Rachel's other eyebrow rose as well. "Don't you?"

There were times when Rachel could blend in seamlessly with the lower middle class, making everyone forget she was a pampered only child of the DA.

This was not one of those times.

"Uh, Rach," Chloe said, "I'm pretty no one besides you can waltz."

A faint blush tinted Rachel's cheeks as she laughed. "Why don't I teach you, then?"

Chloe's brain short-circuited. "Huh?"

Rachel pushed herself up with her elbows, Chloe's too-old mattress creaking with the motion. "I mean, it's not that hard. Really, all you have to do is sway with the tempo—"

"Sway?" No. No way in hell. Chloe Price was not someone who swayed, in a dance or otherwise.

But Rachel's eyes had that glint. The one that said, "This is an awesome idea and it will make my day!"

Chloe wanted to say no. She commanded her mouth to do so. To not bend into the will of Rachel Amber so easily. To at least put up a fight.

And yet, not even a minute later, Chloe's arms were on Rachel's hips, and Rachel's hands were on Chloe's shoulders, and they were so close Chloe could see the strikes of green and yellow in Rachel's eyes.

Tinny music came from Rachel's phone. Even with the full volume, it sounded distant.

Rachel didn't seem to mind. And all Chloe could mind was how close they were, and how soft and warm Rachel's skin were, even through the fabric of her shirt. Chloe wished to kiss it, every bit of her, and kiss with worship, kiss with love, kiss in whichever way Rachel wanted to be kissed, and—

"Now you're getting it," Rachel said, laughing. Strands of her hair fell to her shoulder when she cocked her head. "You know, you're actually kind of a natural at this, Chlo. I'm impressed."

Chloe shrugged, which brought Rachel's hands up. "I'm a woman with many secrets."

"Is that so?"

"Yup. And many skills too." Chloe winked. "Skills that would take your breath away."

Rachel threw her head back, laughing louder than before. Her grip on Chloe's shoulders tightened, and so Chloe tightened her own grip on Rachel's sides. "My god, Chlo," she said, leaning closer to Chloe. "You're gonna make me piss myself."

Chloe didn't think her joke was that funny, but she grinned and said, "That was the plan all along."

Rachel didn't laugh this time, but her smile did widen.

The music on Rachel's phone stopped. Neither of them moved to replay it. Or even mentioned it. Rachel's breath tickled Chloe's lips. Since when had they gotten so close?

Rachel's eyes were half-lidded, her face flushed, the morning light accentuating her cheekbones and jawline. Chloe's throat dried.

Maybe Chloe should carpe diem, just this once.

And so her eyes closed, and she leaned into Rachel, and—

"Chloe," Rachel said, stepping away. "We shouldn't."

And that was it. The end of something that hadn't even begun. Chloe's heart didn't shatter. It broke, but it didn't shatter. She was tougher than that, and she knew Rachel wanted them to be friends. And she was cool with that. Because at least Rachel didn't leave.

But then Rachel did leave, and Chloe's heart did shatter.

Time mended it together. And when Max came along, it beat with a new rhythm—one of hope.

And then it shattered again when they found Rachel.

Chloe didn't think she could survive with a shattered heart. Not again. She was still surviving with the aftermath of the first time it happened.

But Max was there, with her. And Max never left. Max stayed.

And somehow, Chloe healed. She would never be the same again, but, well, that was the point, wasn't it? Pain makes us stronger and shit. Not that Chloe felt strong. On her bad days, she was seconds away from breaking all over again.

But she didn't break. Even when her town did.

Max sacrificed everything for Chloe, and so Chloe followed her into Seattle. Where they built a new life. Their life. Where Max went back into high school and Chloe did online courses for her GED because she would not sit in the same class for hours straight listening to some dipshit drone on about why y equals x.

Chloe didn't think they would have anything resembling normal. She didn't think she would be anything resembling normal.

Then, Max was poking her fingers together, shuffling her feet, and avoiding Chloe's gaze. "So, uh… There's this dance in my school…"

"Yes," Chloe said, too quick, too eager.

Rachel would've teased her about it, but Max looked at her, jaw dropping before a giddy smile blossomed in her face. "R-really?" Her eyes widened, her smile fading. "Wait, it's got an old theme to it, though."

"An old theme?"

"Yeah," said Max, nodding. "Like, Victorian stuff. Super vintage."

"Cool."

A cute frown lined the space between Max's eyebrows. "And I think we have to do some old-school dancing too. Which, I know—super complicated, and, I mean, I don't think it's mandatory, per se—"

"Max, hey, it's fine." Chloe put a hand on Max's shoulder. "The dancing part won't be a problem."

"Really?"

"Mm-hmm." Chloe's thumb stroked circles on Max's skin, and tension left Max's shoulder. "I know how to waltz."

The tension returned. "What?"

"I know how to waltz," Chloe said again, fighting to keep a straight face and tone.

Max's eyes went round, her eyebrows disappearing beneath her bangs. "Like, waltz waltz?"

"Yup."

"You know how to do it?"

"Uh-uh."

"Like, actually do it. Not just, like, as a prank or something."

"Max," Chloe said, frowning. "You sound like you don't believe me."

Max's lips thinned, and a blush covered her pale face, darkening her freckles. "It's not that! It's just—it's waltzing." Max giggled, and warmth blossomed in Chloe's chest. "I don't think I know anyone who can do it. Besides you, of course."

"Want me to teach you?"

Max blinked. "Right now?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"Oh, um—" Max smiled again, a hesitant but curious one. "Alright. Should we, uh—shouldn't there be music?"

"Nah," Chloe said, pulling their bodies close. Humming would be enough.

Where Rachel pretended to be perfect, Max didn't pretend at all. Chloe loved them both, but Rachel was a matchstick that kept igniting Chloe's flame. Whereas Max was like a soft breeze—gentle but unyielding, calming down that flame before extinguishing it.

Still, though. Chloe couldn't deny that some of Rachel's insight could be wise. Especially the carpe diem one.

And so, seizing the moment, Chloe closed her eyes, leaned in, but stopped an inch from Max's lips. Waiting for Max to decide.

And Max decided to kiss her back.

A/N

I've probably got a lot of work to do. And I can also scratch out the probably.