At last, the Coyne loft was quiet and empty, and more importantly free from one messy, obnoxious roommate. The lights were dimmed, only a couple of candles and the television illuminated the living room. Fiona relaxed on the couch with her feet propped up on the coffee table, something she'd only allowed herself and her girlfriend to do. Below her stomach was Imogen, with her head laying on Fiona's lap, legs sprawled out, and fingers mindlessly scrolling through the Face Range app on her phone. The tv played Mean Girls, a movie the girls had seen together probably 100 times and at this point, it was just background noise for their date night.
It was Imogen and Fiona's first night alone since finding out about her dad's dementia diagnosis and a night when Drew finally agreed to stay out late. At first, they worked on homework, sitting on her bed, books and binders scattered. But frustration and boredom set in quickly and that's when Imogen suggested they watch a movie in the living room. Without asking, Fiona popped in Mean Girls knowing Imogen wouldn't mind.
"Do you want anything to eat? Drink?" Fiona asked making her way to Imogen who sat on the couch, legs crossed.
"It's okay, I can get it myself," Imogen said, scooting off the couch.
"Wait, I'll get it for you," Fiona stopped her. Imogen had spent time at her loft more times than she could count. Fiona let her be herself, help herself to whatever—everything was free game. But she still felt like a host whenever Imogen came over and she enjoyed letting Imogen relax.
Fiona walked a few feet to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and revealed a bunch of take-out boxes and leftovers.
"What do you feel like?" Fiona called out over her shoulder. "We have teriyaki, curry, a half-eaten Gyro…"
Imogen grinned over at Fiona across the living room to the kitchen. "Macaroni and Cheese?" she suggested, a small smirk forming.
"Hmmm," Fiona countered, spinning around to face her girlfriend. "I don't see any leftovers of macaroni and cheese."
Fiona crossed her arms with a teasing smile.
"I'm kidding Fiona." Imogen repositioned herself on the couch, more relaxed with her back leaning on the armrest and her legs extended across the cushions.
"I can make some for you," Fiona offered, closing the fridge behind her. "I have a box of macaroni."
Imogen kept her eyes on the flat screen against the white exposed brick wall that played Mean Girls. "I'm fine Fiona seriously." She smiled warmly as she focused on the movie in front of her.
Fiona stepped closer so she could get a better look at the younger girl. "Imogen, you know I'd do anything for you, right?"
Imogen tilted her head back over the armrest to look at Fiona's face. "I do now." She smiled.
But that wasn't true. Imogen always knew Fiona would do anything for her. She knew back when Fiona planned that Senior party last semester and offered her a black dress so she wouldn't embarrass herself. She knew when they cleaned up all the tin foil in the cafeteria and Fiona got Imogen's suspension reduced. She knew when Fiona used her own money and sold all of her stuff just to make the Frostival happen. She knew when she planned a dance for her band to play as an apology for calling it silly (even though Imogen wasn't happy about that.) And she knew when Fiona got shop class to finish building the Romeo and Jules set. Even before they dated Fiona went out of her way to make Imogen happy and Imogen did the same for her or at least she tried her best.
Imogen agreed to let her make the macaroni while she watched the movie or rather scrolled through her phone whilst the movie was background noise. She'd look up at her favorite parts. In the kitchen Fiona stood at the stove, back facing the living room. She'd opened the box of Macaroni and cheese, pouring it into the pot of hot water. In between the sounds of the stove and Lindsay Lohan's narration, spurts of Imogen's hearty laugh tingled through Fiona's ears and made her heart swell as she smiled at the macaroni while she stirred.
God she loved Imogen so much. She loved her dark brown eyes and the glasses that framed them. She loved her funky, sometimes silly fashion and when she put her hair up in messy buns. She loved her zest for life and her optimistic attitude and how she could instantly change her mood when she was sad. She loved her laugh, and damn, Imogen knew how to laugh. And she loved her touch—the warmth and safeness of her hugs and her soft lips when they connected with hers. She loved her more than anything and anyone in the whole world.
"Immy," Fiona sang. "Your macaroni and cheese is ready." She brought over two bowls to the living room and sat them on the coffee table grinning proudly.
Imogen shifted to a sitting position. "Aw no apron?" She pouted.
Fiona put her hands on her hips. "You want me to wear an apron?"
Imogen smirked. "You'd look hot."
"Imogen!" Fiona scolded, cheeks burning dark red.
"What?" Imogen raised her shoulders looking a bit sheepish. "I have a hot girlfriend."
Fiona made her way to the couch, scooting closer to Imogen. "I'm just kidding Immy." Fiona curled up her legs, snuggling up to her girlfriend's side. "Thank you."
She leaned in for a small, sweet kiss from Imogen.
After finishing their meal, Fiona and Imogen continued watching Mean Girls. Imogen had moved to lay in Fiona's lap, scrolling through Face Range. Fiona tried focusing on the movie but got distracted by the way the blue light lit up Imogen's face. She smiled down at her, playing with the loose strands of hair that Imogen kept dangling. Fiona was the luckiest girl in the whole school. Somehow she wound up with the prettiest, sweetest most caring girl who accepted her for all that she was. Sometimes Fiona's dark thoughts would take over her mind, thinking she didn't deserve a girl like Imogen. But it was moments like this that brought her back to reality—being so close to Imogen. After all, she wouldn't be alone with her, head in her lap, allowing Fiona to caress her if Imogen didn't like her so much.
Fiona had thought about saying those three big words to Imogen for a long time but she was always too afraid. With her last three failed relationships, Imogen was the first person she truly was in love with—for all the right reasons. The thought of losing Imogen, not being able to hold her, kiss her or even talk to her made Fiona sick to her stomach. The more she delayed telling her those words, the more Fiona believed Imogen would leave her for someone who wasn't as scared as her. She needed to say it. She needed to tell Imogen how much she meant to her—how she saved her.
The sounds of the movie grew muffled to Fiona's ears, just mere background noise. As she traced her thumb across Imogen's cheek, her heart pounded and pulsed through her shirt. She gazed down at her oblivious girlfriend scrolling rapidly through her phone.
"I love you," Fiona uttered, soft and slightly whispery.
Imogen lifted her head quickly. "What did you say?" She sat facing her.
Fiona averted her eyes back to the television. "Nothing, I was just quoting the movie."
Crap. It was too soon. She was about to go into cardiac arrest.
"Fions, you never quote movies," Imogen said, almost sternly.
Complete silence between the girls filled the loft, only the movie playing in the background. Fiona's breathing hitched and she fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. There was no going back now.
"I love you," Fiona repeated. She looked deep into Imogen's eyes, her words were clear and loud and every letter was coated with passion.
Imogen's breath stopped for a moment, almost choking her as she and Fiona stared down at each other with intense eyes. With the silence coming from Imogen, Fiona began to freak out.
"Oh god, it's too soon," Fiona said, her hands covering her face. "I'm sorry. Forget everything I said. You don't have to—"
"Fiona!" Imogen interrupted just like she had on the Ferris wheel during that fateful night. She grabbed Fiona's hand, firmly squeezing the life out of it.
"I love you too," Imogen confessed.
Relief flushed Fiona's face, a smile forming on her lips. As Imogen released her hand, they continued gazing lovingly at each other, only speaking with their eyes.
"I've been wanting to say that for so long," Imogen admitted.
"Really?" Fiona's face lit up. "Me too."
"We must be soulmates then," Imogen joked referencing the moment shared before they were girlfriends.
She tickled Fiona's side as she led Fiona on her back against the cushions. Climbing on top of her, she placed knees on both sides of her waist. She breathed in with satisfaction, leaning her lips down to Fiona's, all her flavors cascading down her tongue. Fiona smiled into the kiss, one hand on Imogen's cheek as she sunk her back deeper into the couch. The taste of Imogen's strawberry-glossed lips—god, it could make her combust. She wanted more of her—she needed more of her, but she agreed to take things slow with Imogen, and if that meant just kissing for a while, she could deal with that, for Imogen.
"You were right you know," Fiona whispered, briefly parting their lips, but keeping her hand in contact with Imogen's cheek. "We are soulmates."
Imogen smirked. "I'm never wrong am I?" She gripped Fiona's hips, the pressure of her hands sending tingles up Fiona's body.
Fiona rolled her eyes to the side. "Well, if you're never wrong, how come we stopped kissing?"
Imogen grinned with lustful eyes, leading their lips together again. They kissed for a while, hands roaming neck, hips and stomach. Catching her breath, Fiona parted their lips again. She brought a hand up to Imogen's cheek, swiping a strand of hair out of her girlfriend's face.
"Immy, you are my whole world," Fiona told her.
"To the moon and back."