Epilogue: This is how you fall in love

I will love you like Spring

Every day like the first

A tall, blooming curse

Digging roots so deep, it hurts

It's over, Allie thinks, panting as she lets her head rest on the small pillow. It's finally over.

It's the end of another endless night trading lust and fantasies for barely enough money to make it through the week. She really wishes some of her clients would at least shower before coming to see her, but she supposes it doesn't matter that much: she charges them extra when it happens. She could keep walking outside and seek out more clients, but she's itching for ice and the familiar numbness that keeps her from spiralling into madness after working for so long.

She pretends to sleep while her last client leaves. Motel beds are never comfortable, but they are far more luxurious than where she usually sleeps. She wonders if someday, she'll find a way to leave this life behind, but it's so unlikely, and hope is so expensive and treacherous that she shuts down the thought as it appears. Hope makes it harder for her to keep going. It's easier to pretend that this life is enough, that surviving is enough.

She rolls out of bed, grabs the few bills off the counter and pockets them. She grins when she notices a granola bar that a guest left a few hours ago. She'll take free food any day if it means she can save up more for drugs. That may be the saddest part of it all, but again, she tells herself it's just how things are.

She makes her way towards the alley she calls hers, dragging her feet on the sidewalk. She stops briefly to exchange words with a fellow addict. She isn't sure if it makes her feel better or worse, but at least, she knows she's not alone, hunting hits left and right.

Quietness rules the world once she leaves the busy streets and the heaviness slowly drifts away from her shoulders. She nods to herself. At least, she doesn't have to live with this pain in her soul forever. She's got the drugs to help and she bought a new stash yesterday, all fresh and ready to be consumed.

She walks a little faster, motivated by the thought of being intoxicated. It's always the same road, with the same little shops and the same haunting silence. She could do this with her eyes closed if she wanted to.

She almost misses it, but a small detail catches her attention. She stares for a long minute, unsure why she can't look away.

It's a woman, sitting a few meters away from her.

She looks like she's the human manifestation of solitude and melancholy, and Allie's heart winces at the sight. There are different kinds of loneliness, Allie knows it very well, and this woman appears to be drowning in all of them, suffocating discreetly as the universe sleeps.

But Allie is wide awake, and even from afar, she notices the sweater and its familiar color. Wentworth.

It explains nothing and everything at the same time.

Allie wants to keep walking, to ignore the nagging feeling that tells her she should go and check on this stranger. She wants to follow her routine: work, drugs, repeat. It's how it's always been, and how it'll always be, but for the first time in weeks, she thinks that drugs can wait. Drugs are going to be there tomorrow, but this woman might not.

She hesitates for a fraction of seconds because it's the middle of the night, and she looks dirty, sweaty, and like she's spent the last century doing things that might scare this woman away. Still, she keeps staring, basking into the same loneliness and wishing she could alleviate this ghost's pain just for a second.

Eventually, she tiptoes toward the silhouette. She puts on her best smile and she hides behind a mask of confidence in the hopes that she appears friendly and welcoming, and not like a murdered in disguised.

With every step, she feels more nervous. Her confidence wavers a little as her fear of rejection kicks in.

She keeps moving forward because it's already too late, and soon, she sits next to the stranger who curses when she realizes she's not alone anymore.

Shit, Allie thinks, so much for first impressions. She can't leave now, it would be too strange, so she puts on her most innocent face and takes a leap of faith, hoping she's not the only one in need of a friend.

"Wow, jumpy, aren't we? You looked so lonely, I figured I'd keep you company. I just got off work."

"It's over," Bea whispers, arms secured tightly around Allie. "You did it."

The crowd is loud around them. Strangers bump into them and every second, a new person screams with excitement. It's chaotic and messy, and if they weren't so close to each other, they would lose sight of one another, but they are standing in the middle of it all, alone in a room that doesn't realize it can't break them apart.

"I can't believe it," Allie murmurs back, nose buried into Bea's curled hair.

"I can," Bea beams proudly. She points to the piece of paper in Allie's hand. "This is proof. You did it."

"It doesn't mean anything. What if I don't get hired? Studies don't get you anywhere now."

Bea laughs the kind of laugh that makes Allie's worries fade into the atmosphere.

"You've been working at the shelter for years now. You could have never graduated and they would still beg you to stay."

"You're biased."

"I'm right," Bea corrects slyly, holding Allie's face with her hands. Someone yells right next to them, but Bea keeps them grounded and steady. "You've done amazing work. Two months ago, you were ready to burn your books and our apartment at the same time, and now you've got your diploma. You did it."

Bea watches as Allie grins hesitantly and she knows that, behind the joy and the pride, there are other insecurities hidden.

"What's on your mind?" she asks.

"I just can't believe it. What if I can't do it? What if it's not enough?" Allie sighs, "I think I'm dreaming. I didn't just get through three years of school. That's not me. That's not something I can do. You did this."

Bea shakes her head.

"No, Allie. You did it."

"No, if… If I hadn't met you – "

"You would have found a way," Bea interrupts. "You spent the last three years telling me you wouldn't be there without me, but it's not true. You always wanted to change. I just gave you a push. I didn't take your tests. I didn't read your books. I didn't drag my ass out of bed at six in the morning to go to the library in the middle of winter. You did."

"Because of you," Allie insists, blue eyes full of gratitude. "Because you helped me through it. You never gave up on me. I stood on this stage today because you were there for me."

Of course, Bea wants to say. Of course, she was there for Allie, because Allie never left her side either. Allie moved mountains so Bea could cross to the other side without being trapped into an avalanche. And even though the words don't come out, even though she feels forever indebted to Allie, Bea knows that they both feel the same.

Bea's right hand moves to place a strand of blonde hair behind Allie's ear.

"Let's go celebrate, shall we? Today is a good day."

"Wait."

"What? Did we forget anything?"

"I love you," Allie replies, leaning down to brush their noses together.

Bea barely has time to smile before lips move to capture hers in a soft motion.

She feels her chest tingle the way it does when Allie stands so close to her. Every time Allie does, Bea is reminded that love isn't violent. Love isn't nightmares and court dates, fear and broken glasses. Love is happiness and pride, and the feeling that everything is possible.

Love isn't a curse, like she used to believe.

It's been three years now, and she knows.

Love is Allie.

I will crave you like Summer

Every day, blazing passion

A red, burning ocean

Drunk and lost in this lust potion

Bea asks her to follow her.

It's a simple request, but then the redhead leans toward her and says things that make her weak in the knees, and Allie wants to kiss her. She wants to kiss her like her life depends on it, because maybe it does, maybe there's a reason she feels like she'll die if she doesn't taste Bea, but she fights the feeling until her chest bleeds internally.

"I'm not scared."

Her own words play in her head. Of course, she's scared. She's scared shitless, but she can't let Bea know that. Just like she can't let her know how badly she wants to kiss her. She wants to kiss her, touch her, and show her that no one, especially not Bea Smith, teases Allie Novak.

She doesn't quite know where this urge comes from. All she knows is that, ever since this woman, this fierce, invincible woman walked into her life, she's wanted to do it. She can't stop thinking about it, even now. She knows she shouldn't, that it'll ruin whatever relationship is starting to bloom between them, but still, the thoughts keep running and running in her head like a broken record.

She wants to smash it. She wants to play it so loud that she can hear nothing else.

She tries not to stare as they walk to an unknown destination, but she can't look away. Here is finally someone who gives a fuck about her, who's willing to spend the night out, just so she doesn't end up alone wandering the streets after Wentworth denied her request to stay. Here is someone who fucking cares about her, and Allie wants to believe it so much despite the walls standing tall around her heart.

She follows Bea because it's the only thing she wants to do. Right now, in this time and space, she feels like it's all she wants to do. Her heart does a little jump and she almost freezes at what it implies.

No, she thinks, she can't be falling, not for someone who comes from a world so different that they might as well come from another planets.

She can't.

She can't and she won't, she repeats like a mantra.

By the time they walk into a dinner illuminated by neon lights, Allie isn't scared. She's terrified.

If she wasn't falling before, she definitely is now.

"Watch out!" Allie's voice pierces through the gush of wind as a wave of salted water collides with Bea.

Bea falls to the ground, chokes and gasps for air as she emerges, eyes searching for the blonde. She finds her laughing, hair flying widely around her head, as dry as can be, camera hanging from her neck.

"I told you not to stand so close to the water," Allie smirks. "But do you ever listen to me when we come here? No, never! And look where it leads you!"

"You said you wanted a photo and you told me to step back!" Bea yells over the ocean, shaking her head in disbelief. "You planned this!"

"Did I? I don't remember. You must have misheard, with the water and all, it's hard to hear," Allie grins wickedly as she snaps a quick candid picture of the redhead. "Better be careful next time, eh?"

"Come here, you traitor," Bea threatens, crossing the distance between them at lightspeed. "I'll show you what I remember!"

Bea races towards Allie, but the blonde is faster and heads for a couple of dunes in the distance. In-between squeals and abrupt cries when Allie inevitably trips and ends up face down, the two women chase each other like twelve years old playing games, and maybe that's what they are: young and reckless, and too lost in each other to care about what the world might think.

"Come back!" Bea breathes out, climbing a dune while Allie sprints to the other side.

"Can't catch me," Allie sings from a couple meters ahead. "I'm too fast for – What the fuck?!" she yells as Bea materializes next to her, having run so fast that she thought she would lose a lung.

Bea grabs her arm and spins her around, mischief shining in her eyes.

"What did you say?" she pants with a voice that conveys anything but ignorance.

"Don't you dare," Allie warns, hands in the air like she's under arrest, "I have a camera. I can't go in the water."

Bea grins and leans closer and closer until their breath mix.

"I can find another way to make you wet," she murmurs, deepening a kiss that was never meant to be innocent in the first place.

The corner of her mouth curls up when she feels Allie's resistance falls as the taller woman gives in. She almost changes her mind, debating whether she should let it be and bask into the way Allie holds her, but a breeze reminds her of the water dripping from her clothes and she quickly breaks the kiss, stealing the camera in a fluid movement. She drops it in the sand and pulls Allie with her, dashing toward the ocean.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Allie roars as she tries to resist, but it's too late, and when they fall, clinging to one another, the ocean claims them, covers them with yet another wave, but it doesn't matter anymore.

It's been three years since the sea interrupted what could have been their first kiss, and now, their lips meet every single time, even when a wave crashed into them.

I will miss you like Fall

Every day, carving your name

A grey, trembling hurricane

Drowning in the evening rain

She tosses and turns and swears at the world, but she's forced to admit it: she can't sleep.

It's been over two weeks since Bea left for another continent to join her daughter, and Allie has not been able to sleep properly ever since. She can't tell if it is because she worries about Bea, about Debbie, or about the future as a whole. What if Debbie doesn't make it? How would Bea survive this?

Allie shakes her head. No. She can't think that way. Bea will survive anything thrown her way. Just like she can survive a couple more days without Bea around. She's slept alone all her life, it should be easier, but she hadn't expected to crave someone's presence so quickly, and now she's trapped, missing Bea like she's missing a part of her soul.

She hates it as much as she feels grateful to be able to have someone to miss.

Her chest twists and breaks open. It feels like someone is stabbing her repeatedly except there's no blood, no clocks counting down the minutes until her death, no end to this torture. Loneliness follows her closer than her own shadow and Allie wants to throw up, wants to reject it from her body like she's rejected the drugs years ago.

But she can't.

Loneliness won't go away, and the pain of missing Bea doesn't lessen no matter how many distractions she focuses her attention on. It hurts like hell and it aches like heaven.

She refrains herself from cursing out loud and instead, takes a second to listen to the rain. She can't stop the hurt, can't put a bandage on loneliness. She can't pretend like it doesn't exist and she can't stop the way her body begs her to fall to the floor and cry. But she refuses to obey those urges. She refuses to fall and break down.

Instead, she walks out, slamming the door behind her without a care in the world.

She stands in the pouring rain, the first drops piercing through her skin like needles would. She stays there until her clothes are drenched and her body is covered with goosebumps. She looks at the clouds, pleading for them to travel across the ocean and send a message to Bea, to tell her that she misses her, and that she'll be waiting for her return.

Finally, she thinks, she feels something else than the emptiness in her chest.

"Are you my next client?" Bea grins when she catches the sight of Allie waiting at the entrance of the salon. She glances quickly at the reservation book and her grin widens. "DJ Allie Cat, there is it."

It has become a tradition for Allie to show up unexpected at the salon and scribble her name when Bea isn't looking. Bea doesn't complain about it. It adds an element of surprise and it's often near the end of the day, meaning that they can leave together and grab dinner at the same time. She also smiles every time she reads the familiar nickname she once gave Allie when they were still pretending to be friends.

"I expect an even better service than last time," Allie declares while wiggling her eyebrows.

Bea rolls her eyes, visions of locked doors, whispered pleas and Allie's naked body pressing against hers playing in her head.

"It was one time," she says. "And that is all."

"We'll see about that," Allie giggles, pointing at the last client leaving the place.

"Sit down," Bea chuckles as she grabs her scissors.

They remain silent while Bea cuts and trims and works her magic. They find peace in the calm and the comfort of knowing that they don't have to fill the quiet with useless words. They can just be, simply exist together without any expectations. Bea thinks that, maybe, that's the only sign they need to know that they were meant to end up here, together.

They exit the salon quickly afterwards, Allie taking a few minutes to tease Bea with promises of catching up on her promise the next time she comes for a haircut.

It's the first day of winter, but this year has been particularly cold early on. Bea's jacket is nowhere near warm enough, and within minutes, she's rubbing her hands together in an attempt to create some heat.

"I knew we should have stayed at the salon," Allie laughs. "You wouldn't be cold at all."

"You're horrible," Bea scoffs lightly. "We have plans."

"We can do this another day," Allie argues, "We can head back to our place and warm up instead."

"No," Bea insists, "it's the first day of winter. It's got to be today. I'm not that cold."

"I believe you. Your lips are turning blue, it's usually a sign that one isn't cold." Allie deadpans.

"I just miss our summer tradition suddenly, that's all."

"You won't say that when summer comes, you'll probably complain about how everything is on fire again," Allie points out.

"You're right, you're the only one who can fully satisfy me," Bea winks as she makes her way to a popular street.

Allie follows willingly, shaking her head in disbelief, but enjoying the magic of it all.

Bea smiles when she feels Allie's hand slides into hers. She could never get used to it, no matter how many times they balance each other with subtle gestures.

There's no one inside when they arrive at the door, but the employee recognizes them from the year before and welcomes them kindly.

"Same as usual?" he asks.

Bea nods and shifts closer to Allie in the familiarity of it all, years of practice making her body automatically react.

It's been three years since they were forced apart by hospitals and unknown fates, and ever since, they always remembered to get ice cream in winter and hot chocolate in summer.

I will fear you like Winter

Every day, frozen in time

A quiet, snowy shrine

Desperate hope for us to shine

Saying I love you always had come naturally to Allie.

Drugs had made her impulsive. Proximity to death had reminded her that life was too short to have any regrets. Violence and hatred had always been the languages of the streets for people who didn't want to seem weak, but Allie knew better. There were people who knew not to cross her, even as she wore her heart on her sleep. But she had known something would be different the second she had started feeling those three words in the back of her throat whenever she opened her mouth to exchange a few words with Bea.

It felt different because suddenly, she had everything to lose.

Recently, she's been walking on eggshells, afraid to say too much, afraid to speed past Bea and never see her again.

Part of her refuses to give up. She thinks she will die trying to swallow those words back. She will be buried with them so far below the surface of the earth that no machinery could ever dig them up. She will keep the words secret even if it kills her inside, because if she says them and Bea isn't ready to hear them, it might be the end of everything, and then, Allie knows she won't survive the destruction.

Part of her wants to give up, to say them, to shout them from rooftops and city halls, and from everywhere in the world so that everyone knows the truth. Part of her wants to whisper them under the moonlight when Bea only listens to her, only cares for her. Part of her believes that saying them out loud won't make a difference, that their friendship will remain stronger than any obstacles, but the past has taught her the exact opposite. The past has taught her that those words, those specific three words, can seal her fate just by existing in thin air.

It scares her more than all the nights she thought drugs would carry her life away. She's fighting in a war against herself, battling with imaginary guns and escaping a deluge of bombs, when Bea asks her, what if she had died?

And then, the roaring in her head stops. As Bea throws hypothesises at her, as Bea asks her about dangers and death and prison sentences, Allie finds herself unable to stop herself from driving straight into madness.

"I love you."

She curses herself mentally, wishing she could take it back while blessing the fact that she can't.

Bea doesn't leave, and for the first time, Allie isn't afraid she will.

Allie opens her eyes only to be greeted by a deep black, eerily darkness.

She blinks a few times, sleep gluing her eyelids together as she fights the wave of exhaustion that washes over her. She ignores what time it is, but she imagines it must be either very late or extremely early. It takes her a second to understand that her eyes won't adjust to the dark because there's something preventing her from accessing the minuscule amount of moonlight that usually passes through the curtains. For a brief moment, she panics. Blood rushes to her head and adrenaline shoots through her like lightning.

"Good morning, beautiful," Bea's soothing voice sings in her ears.

Allie can hear the smile radiating behind those words.

"Do you want to go on a walk with me?"

She hears the devious smile painting those words.

"Do I have a choice?" she asks, knowing she doesn't.

"You do if you want to break my heart."

"So dramatic," Allie scoffs.

She doesn't really like being blindfolded. She doesn't even know why such a concept exists, why people get weirdly aroused by it, and why kids do it voluntarily to go hit a pinata with a baseball bat. Being blindfolded in the streets means dying in a painful, excruciating way. It means not being able to see where the attack was coming from. It means being a fool, someone who would die based on the principles of natural selection.

"Come on," Bea chuckles. " It'll be worth it, I promise."

"I don't know about that," Allie mumbles as she gets up, "dying is rarely worth it."

She notices that she's wearing a light jumper on top of her clothes before she's being pulled outside the front door. She shivers as the wind twirls around her, crisp and sharp just like it would be in the middle of the night.

"Trust me," Bea whispers, and Allie can't say no, can't resist when warm breath tickles her ear. "It'll be worth it."

Allie has stopped feeling scared for a while now. She knows she can trust Bea with her life, but she's not entirely convinced her partner has the best survival instinct when it comes to walking alone in the middle of the night.

Still, she sighs and nods, unwilling to betray Bea's silent, radiating joy.

She steps on hard concrete and the sound echoes in the empty streets. She almost falls a dozen times, confirming the fact that Bea has no clue how to guide a blindfolded person, but every time she thinks her face is about to hit the ground, a steady arm catches her and holds her strongly. How she doesn't end up disfigured when she has to climb a small set of stairs, she'll never know.

She quickly realizes she has no idea where they are going. In the past decade, wherever she went, she always made sure to learn about every street, every alley, every hidden corner of her neighborhood. It hadn't been different after moving in with Bea, mostly because her job requires that she finds those who didn't want to be found. She'd memorized the way to parks, to police stations, to malls and community centers, to shelters, even the way to the most popular trash cans.

"You planned this, didn't you?" she ask, squeezing Bea's hand.

She receives no answer.

"You're walking in circles. I recognize the pattern and I know we're not going anywhere specifically, and the more we walk in different directions, the less I know where we are. You planned this," she rants, "because you're evil. You planned my murder. I knew something was off lately, you've been too nice. I never should have trusted you. How dare you murder me when I didn't get enough sleep before?"

The provocation remains without answer.

They walk for what feels like an hour before Allie starts telling herself that the next time Bea wants to walk, she'll nicely decline the invitation to another marathon.

"I hope you brought food because if you keep me walking like that, I'll be starved before you get to kill me," she declares with a mocking tone.

"We're almost there," Bea responds lightly, and Allie hears the small tremor in her voice, a mark of nervousness and anticipation.

Soon enough, the hard concrete disappears, leaving in its place the softness of the grass. The wind blows stronger, just enough to hint Allie that she's not surrounded by buildings anymore, but rather trees and bushes, nature thriving when the city sleeps.

She struggles a little when she's guided up a small hill, fearing that she might tumble down at any moment. Just as she's about to protest, the cloth covering her eyes vanishes.

"You brought me to a park?" Allie raises an eyebrow as the familiar sight presents itself.

"It's so different," Bea comments, taking in the sights as Allie does.

There are trees where empty spaces should be and the playground looks like an obstacle course from one of those reality shows rather than a child's safe place. Benches are lined up around the newly made path and shining streetlights illuminate the dark evening the way lighthouses guide lost travelers. There are sculptures decorating their surroundings, making the place filled with ethereal shapes and shadows.

And down the small road, Bea knows that if she takes a few turns, she'll find herself standing in front of a familiar shelter with friendly figures waiting to welcome the most vulnerable.

"Just like us, it's changed," Bea hums.

"It's missing a bench," Allie jokes. "I wonder who took it. Did you bring me here to stand?"

"Look at the moon and tell me what you see," Bea points to the sky as she gestures widely. "Go on! You'll notice something's different."

Allie stares at her suspiciously upon the strange request, but does as she is told.

The moon glares back at her, full and giant, like the universe is patiently waiting for her trial to start. Allie stares and stares and even tries to stop blinking, but she can't see anything different. She almost expects a plane to fly with words attached in the back, or fireworks to explode and color the firmament, but nothing happens.

She loves the moon. She loves that it is a permanent masterpiece in the night sky. She loves that it never truly judged her for what she did when lights went out. She loves that it never disappeared when she was afraid of the dark. She loves that it will stay there and lead other people like her to safer grounds.

"I see nothing different," Allie frowns, "what am I supposed to see?"

"This," Bea replies without missing a second, pulling Allie out of her reverie.

There's a ring sparkling between them and the moon transforms into the sun, and this is the kind of brilliance that leaves Allie speechless and dazed with the uncertainty of it all.

Maybe it's because she never thought something like that could ever happen to her.

Maybe it's because she grew up with nothing, no clothes to call her own, no roof over her head, and no hope for the future.

Maybe it's because it all sounds ridiculous that Bea would ask her to look at the freaking moon to distract her.

"You – What?" she stutters, her confidence creaking and cracking, bending and shattering.

Her confidence has always been her strongest weapon, even in her most vulnerable moments. She wears it like a mask, day and night, no matter who she interacts with.

It never mattered if she didn't have anything before, because she was immune to personal attacks, immune to the insults and the punches to her body. Only Bea was ever able to see past through her defenses, and only Bea could make her armor break again and again, even years after their first meeting.

She looks up to Bea's face, only to be met with the smallest smile, a smile that can't mute Bea's deafening heartbeat.

Allie tries to answer, but the words won't come out.

How does she say yes in a way that is as meaningful as this ring? How does she say yes in a way that convey the catalyst happening beneath her chest? How does she say yes? How does she speak?

So Allie does the thing she's best at when her vulnerabilities are exposed, and she knows that Bea knows her enough to follow her logic.

"Why are you looking at me like I'm about to say no?" she grins playfully.

There's a twinkle in Bea's eyes when she opens her mouth to answer something as equally ridiculous as Allie's question.

"Why are you looking at me like I'm proposing? I didn't even say anything. What if it turns out to be just a friendship ring?"

Allie nudges Bea's shoulder with one hand but she can't help the sparkling laugh that escapes her throat as she takes a step closer.

"So we're breaking up?" she smirks. "You brought me here to end it where it started, is that it? Such a hopeless romantic."

"Well, we won't be girlfriends anymore," Bea snickers, playing with the ring between her fingers.

"Like I said, how romantic of you."

"I'm sorry to disappoint, it was inevitable," Bea concedes, looking anything but apologetic.

Allie nods and laughs harder, unable to resist any longer. The emotional hurricane that ravages her chest with a limitless amount of affection breaks through her facade.

It's been three years since the first time she told Bea she loved her.

And when Bea stands in front of her, hands shaking and eyes full of hope, Allie wonders if she should be afraid or brave, or a strange mix of both.

And then Bea smiles, the kind of smile that makes Allie fall in love like the very first time, and the answer glows brighter than ever.

"Yes."

Song is This is how you fall in love, by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler

It only took me 2 years but I finally wrote an epilogue. And yes, this is not how I initially wanted to end the story. I had a much longer last chapter planned, but time did a good job in killing my motivation, so I hope that this epilogue will bring closure instead.

You can find me on insta agla.b if you want to complain or ask me questions.

I loved writing this story. I loved everything about it. I hope you did too.

Here's the playlist of all the songs from which the chapters' titles come from:

playlist/1hO7TB5NnZDKFkBu6okUB8?si=faa9a67c985544b1