The next few days were cold and windy and wet. Rain pelted against rooftops as the heatwave broke in a slew of storms. Thunder crashing, paired with on and off power outages. Not that Blake really noticed all that much.
Really, all it did was leave Blake home and without the distraction of work. Forced each day to relive the conversation she'd had with Yang on the beach. She stayed in her room, blankets tucked up around her chin as she stared at the empty side of her bed, trying not to think about the fact that her bed and sheets and room still smelled faintly of Yang. Trying not to think about the fact that each day the smell grew fainter and fainter, and one day soon it would disappear and never be there again.
It was with those wallowing thoughts that she was met with a soft knock on her door. She turned over, tugging her blankets with her as she looked up to see the door crack open just slightly.
"Blake?" The voice was soft and unexpected, and Blake almost wanted to cry already as her mother's head peeked around the corner of the door. She quickly took Blake in and slipped into the room, shutting the door behind her before walking over and sitting on Blake's bedside. She brushed Blake's hair from her face, but Blake couldn't bring herself to make her eyes meet her mother's. Finally, after a long beat of silence, her mother whispered, "Are you alright?"
It was a stupid question, but Blake had a feeling her mother knew exactly what she was doing as it set loose another flood of tears before Blake could even think about responding with words.
Nothing more was said for awhile as Blake laid crying in her mother's arms. Only simple words of understanding and comfort met Blake's ears, and she let them. She let herself be a child again, running to a parent when it felt like the world was caving in. Even though deep down it felt wrong, she gave herself this moment to be the one that was allowed to hurt. Because god was she hurting.
Blake wasn't entirely sure how long she stayed there, but eventually she wriggled from her mother's grasp to sit upright, grabbing a tissue from her nightstand and blowing her nose. She wiped a hand across her tearstained cheeks and groaned with a sniffle. She tossed the tissue and grabbed another, simply fidgeting with it between her fingers. Her eyes stayed trained on the tissue, the floor, the corner of her room – anywhere but at her mother as they sat in the silence that followed.
She didn't even know where to begin.
"Did Sun call you?" Blake settled on asking, still looking at the tissue in her hands, trying not to pay attention to the break in her voice, how it sounded small and distant and weak.
Kali shook her head. "Ilia, actually."
That caught Blake's attention and she looked up, confused. "How did—?"
"Sun." Kali smirked and Blake rolled her eyes, but nodded. She shouldn't have expected Sun to not tell her for more than the first day, honestly. "But," Kali continued, "she had the feeling she wasn't the best person for the job on this one." She tapped at Blake's leg with a teasing grin. "Yet."
Despite herself, Blake chuckled, looking away with a roll of her eyes. "Yeah?"
Kali nodded. "Yeah."
When the conversation stopped again it lingered, and after several minutes Blake realized her mother wasn't going to be the one to continue, and Blake couldn't take the silence anymore. "I broke her heart," she said. Her voice cracked on the words, but once she started, everything poured out, like a dam bursting free. "Yang's, I mean. I was just trying to—to do the right thing, you know? It would have ended eventually and… and I thought it was just going to save us the trouble. I thought we both knew it wasn't… It wasn't going to be…" Blake trailed off, because even though she wanted to say it, it felt like a lie.
"Blake," Kali said, her hand falling onto Blake's knee. Blake met her gaze as she continued. "I knew the moment I sat down with you two at the bonfire that she was crazy for you. And I know you're too smart not to have seen it too."
Blake's eyebrows pinched up. "But—"
"And," Kali said, squeezing Blake's knee a little tighter, "I knew you were head over heels for her too." Kali gave Blake a questioning but sympathetic look. "Why on earth are you talking yourself out of this, sweetie?"
Blake faltered on a response. Mostly because if there was one person that could see right through her bullshit just like Ilia… and maybe Yang, it was her mother. But also because she did not want to have this particular conversation with her mother.
"It's just…" Blake shook her head and looked away. "I mean the distance would be…"
"Temporary."
The word took Blake off guard. She'd been throwing it around in her head next to being with Yang for so long. It was odd to think of being apart from her as temporary. Nice, perhaps. But odd. And unlikely. It was still a massive unknown. She shook her head. "But… I mean, she's from Patch, where would we—?"
"Sounds like a fun place. Or she's always welcome here, I'd assume," Kali said with a raised eyebrow. "Easy enough to talk about one day, no?"
"Okay, okay. But…But… who's to say we'd ever even make it that long? She'd probably find someone else who's… you know, there and can… can…" She waved her hand generally through the air and trailed off, clearing her throat. "Yeah, just someone who's there." Blake barely glanced up at her mother just in time to see a flicker of understanding. She quickly looked away again, cheeks flushing.
Kali sighed. "Right. I… will let Ilia handle some of that more directly, for your sake," she said, nudging Blake's leg. "But," she continued, more serious, "from what I gathered, she seemed like a nice woman." She paused before adding gently, "Not everyone is like the people we once knew, Blake."
Blake felt the statement hit her in the chest. She'd been telling herself that for so long. She knew that already. Of course, she did. Yang was without a doubt incredible and she could never be compared to him. But… what if everything else Blake had to give just… wasn't enough anyway? Even for Yang? Especially for Yang. Wonderful, amazing, caring, thoughtful, Yang.
"Oh, Blake…" Kali's face fell as she leaned forward and wrapped Blake in her arms again and it was only then that Blake realized she'd said all of that out loud. It was only then that she realized tears were running down her face again and she was clinging to her mother like she'd float away, otherwise.
"I just— I can't stand the thought of losing her like that, mom. I—I can't. And I know I will. I know it." Blake cried into her mother's shoulder for a long moment before she felt hands on her shoulders guide her back. Kali met her eyes, serious but caring.
"If you ever lose anyone for something like that, then they don't deserve you." She wiped some tears from Blake's cheeks before settling her hands on Blake's shoulders again. "And I know this will be hard for you. I know it will. But we can't decide who loves us and on what terms. We can only decide whether or not their love is worth being let in, even if there's a possibility it won't stay forever. Loving makes us vulnerable, Blake. It always will. It's just a matter of deciding if you trust someone enough to be vulnerable, too." Blake stayed silent and after a moment Kali sighed and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Just think about it," she said. "I'm going to go get you some water."
Blake swallowed dryly and nodded as her mother slipped out of her room again.
It was all something to think about, sure. But what could she do? She'd already broken Yang's heart. How could she forgive her after something like that?
Blake shook her head. Was she seriously entertaining the idea of trying to win Yang back? Trying to make it all work long distance? With time differences and shitty schedules and lack of any physical contact?
For the first time, she let herself consider it though. What it would look like. Yang sitting in her room back in Patch, smiling through a screen. Her walls peppered with the little things that make Yang who she is: grade school soccer trophies, family vacation photos, and no doubt a tacky firefighter calendar clad with half-naked women. Blake let herself imagine Yang picking up her laptop and giving Blake a virtual tour of her house. She let herself imagine getting to finally meet Yang's dad, or say hi to Ruby in the background. Then maybe Yang would ask about Blake's classes and Blake could complain about the paper she has due in a week that the professor has told the class nothing about, and Yang would ask if Blake wants her to kill that guy for her. And Blake would laugh, and tease her that she better let the FBI know she's kidding. And maybe later, Blake would pass out on their call when her eyelids got too heavy, but Yang would hang around until she fell asleep too, because she loves her…
She loves her.
And as every thought filled her mind, it brought a sense of joy, and ease, and warmth that Blake hadn't felt in days.
And it was just as quickly washed away as she realized it was very likely never going to happen.
Blake was jarred from her thoughts by the sound of the door creaking open again, only this time far less slowly as Ilia barged in, water in hand.
"I was told you were prepped for some tough love now?" She said with a grin. It quickly fell, however, as she saw Blake's crestfallen expression. "Ah. Guess not yet." She shut the door behind her and set the glass of water on the table before sitting cross-legged in front of Blake on the bed. She sighed after a long moment; her voice softer when she spoke again. "I know you love her, you know?"
Blake sighed. "Yeah, I think you made a marriage joke at one point." Even saying it as a joke sent a pang through her chest.
Ilia shrugged. "What can I say? You get this look about you." She paused a moment. "It's the first time I've seen someone have it back like that, though."
Blake looked up at Ilia, brow furrowed. "What?"
"With Yang," Ilia said. She swallowed. "I just… I never saw A—anyone look at you like that before, too."
"You can say Adam. He exists," Blake said, though the name dripped off her tongue with disgust.
"Wish he didn't…" Ilia muttered before shaking her head. "Look, I just… I'm just trying to say that she's a good one."
"I know."
"Then what happened? All Sun said was that you ended things and he said the only reason he told me that much was so I wouldn't go kill Yang." Ilia said. She paused briefly with a thoughtful frown before shrugging and shaking her head. "And honestly, he's valid."
Blake chuckled lightly, sniffling once. She sighed, her shoulders sagging. "Look, I could run through it all word for word like I have been in my head for the last four and a half days, but the long and short of it is that I fucked up. I fucked up and there's no way I'll ever fix it. Even if I wanted to."
"It couldn't have been that bad." Ilia leaned forward, her fingertips resting gently on Blake's knee.
Blake looked Ilia in the eyes, her heart hammering as the words came out of her. "I told her not to love me. She laid everything out on the line and I told her not to. I told her it would never work. I told her we'd absolutely end eventually so we should end it now, on our terms. And she told me she loved me. She told me she'd do anything to make it work. She told me she didn't want to lose me. And when it all came to a head, she told me that I was the one running away, and she was right. God, she was right. And how am I supposed to go crawling back now? Now that I've broken her heart? After she gave me everything?"
Ilia looked at Blake, returning her question with one of her own. Calmly. Knowingly. "And why'd you tell her all of that?"
Blake opened her mouth, but when nothing came out, she sighed. "You know why, Ilia." She sighed again. "And even though I'm starting to second guess it now… it's too late." She shook her head. "It's too late."
There was a moment of silence where Blake thought that Ilia was going to agree with her. Too much had been said and it was time to move on. But instead, she was met with Ilia shaking her head and standing up from her bed. "No," she said, making her way over to Blake's dresser. She rifled through it as she spoke. "I think you say all that to anyone who doesn't love you? Yeah, sure, chances are slim. But Blake, you have to know how she feels about you by now."
"Wh—"
Ilia tossed an outfit directly into Blake's face and kept talking as she headed for the closet. "Which is exactly why we're going to get you cleaned up and you're going to go tell her you were an idiot and you want her back." Ilia looked over at Blake as she tossed a towel in her direction as well, her nose scrunching up as she looked Blake over. "Seriously, when was the last time you showered?"
Blake sighed, pulling the towel off her head where it landed. "Ilia. I'm not going to do any of that."
Ilia stood in front of Blake's closet, hands on her hips with defiance and Blake was shot back to childhood and the stubborn girl on the playground that never took anyone's bullshit. It was absolutely wild to see it directed fully at her. "Do you want her back, Belladonna?"
"It's too late. I don't even de—"
"That's not what I asked. I asked if you want her back."
Blake bit her lip, her fingers toying with the edge of the towel Ilia had thrown in her direction. She thought about everything. Yang's plea to make it work, that having something would be better than nothing. Her mother's words about vulnerability and trust. Ilia's reassurance that not everyone is like Adam; that good people exist and sometimes… love is enough.
Maybe all she could hope for was that that was true.
After a long pause, Blake finally nodded, her heart racing. "I do. I never… I never wanted to leave her in the first place."
Ilia clapped twice. "Great!" She pointed over her shoulder, towards Blake's door. "Then hit the showers, Belladonna. It's showtime."
Blake didn't know where to start, if she was being honest. As she stood in her room, towel drying her hair and staring down her reflection in the mirror, she ran through the options in her head.
She could, of course, take the cheesy rom-com route and do a huge gesture to win Yang back. However, the thought of doing a grand gesture in a full spectacle form made Blake queasy, and the thought of the very real possibility that Yang would then say "no" made her downright nauseous. So that was off the table.
Her other options included buying something really nice as an apology, which felt far too cheap and not very Yang-esque. Or – perhaps the simplest and most terrifying of all – just laying everything out there with complete honesty.
Just like Yang had.
And hope beyond hope that Yang still loved her enough to try and fix things.
Blake took a deep breath and let it out as she looked in the mirror, tossing her towel into the hamper and running her fingers through her still semi-damp hair. She still looked a bit of mess; dark circles under her eyes and skin just a little paler. She sighed, tucking the bottom of her loose tank top into the front of her ripped black jeans. She turned to the side, taking the outfit in, her head tilting as she considered it briefly before taking off her shirt and rummaging around her dresser for another. She got through about four different shirts – each one getting tossed onto her unmade bed – before there was a knock at the door, followed immediately by it being open.
"Okay, you ready to—whoa!" Sun slapped a hand over his eyes and Blake rolled her eyes.
"It's not like you haven't seen me in a bathing suit, Sun," she said.
"Yeah," Sun said, eyes still covered as he shut the door and leaned against the inside of it, "but bras are not bathing suits."
Blake slipped the latest shirt on over her head, groaning as she looked in the mirror. "None of these are right." She grumbled as she quickly took the shirt off again and flung it onto her bed. She didn't bother putting a new one on, opting to sit on the floor at the foot of her bed, instead.
She ran her thumb over one of her palms, lost in thought. She couldn't stop thinking about seeing Yang again, and while she wanted to, it filled her with absolute dread at the same time. She felt like she was going to be sick at any second and she hated it. It was the complete opposite of every emotion she'd ever had about Yang. But the thought of… of hearing what she expected…
Blake took a deep breath, letting it out shakily. Sun sank down to sit next to her.
"You kind of look like shit," he said. Blake shot him a look that could kill and it quickly had him shaking his head, hands up in defense. "Whoa whoa whoa, I was just trying to make a joke."
Blake looked at him – with his eyes wide – and sighed, shaking her head. "You did always have trouble reading the room."
Sun smirked. "A gift."
Blake rolled her eyes, huffing a small chuckle before her eyes glanced down to her fidgeting hands again. They sat in silence as minute after minute ticked by slowly.
"I'm guessing they filled you in?" Blake asked after several minutes.
Sun nodded. "Yep."
"She's going to say no," Blake said.
"You don't know that," Sun said.
"But it's a real possibility."
"Then… I mean, at least you know?"
Blake swallowed. "What if I don't want to? What if I'd rather just live with the 'what if'?"
Sun sighed, his head falling back onto Blake's bed. "What if the 'what if' is a yes and you miss the real 'what if' because you wanted to just live with the 'what if'?"
Blake's head tilted back too, turning to look at Sun. After a moment, her brow furrowed. "What?"
Sun laughed. "I don't know. I lost the thread."
It was silly, but it brought a small smile to Blake's face as she looked up at the ceiling.
"She could say no," Sun said after a moment, "you're right. But, she could also say yes." He looked at Blake, who turned to face him again. "You willing to risk not telling her, if her answer is yes?"
Blake sighed. "I'm just… nervous."
"Welcome to being in love, Blake."
Blake looked back up at the ceiling. "It sucks."
"Sure does," Sun said, standing. "Now," he grabbed a random shirt from Blake's dresser and tossed it over her face. "Put that on and get your ass over there. You've got a girl to win back and I'm not listening to your mother and Ilia talk about it anymore." With that, he left the room.
Blake chuckled and stood as well, slipping the shirt over her head. It was her black tank top with gold accents. She was instantly reminded of the last time she wore it… back at the bonfire, their first date, the first night she'd completely let her guard down for Yang.
She breathed deep and looked in the mirror, quickly tucking one corner of the front into her jeans, just like she had that night as well. Then, she turned on her heal and headed for the door. She hesitated just a moment with her hand on the handle. Knowing as soon as she went into that next room, she wouldn't turn back.
Blake took one last deep breath and opened her door.
After the bombardment of advice that was still pouring out of her sweet but overbearing support system, Blake opted not to text first before heading over to Yang's. Maybe it was a little inconsiderate, but she just – the ongoing theme of the day – didn't even know what to say.
Hey! Sorry I dumped you on the beach after you said you love me. Can we still talk about something though? Cool.
Yeah. No. She'd be left on 'read' and honestly, this was all something she needed to say to Yang's face. If she got there and asked her to leave… she'd do it. But not without trying her best. Because Yang was fucking worth it. All of it. And so much more.
With every step closer to where Yang was staying, Blake felt her heartbeat quicken. Its pattern growing more and more in sync with the pattering of rain hitting against her umbrella and she found it more and more difficult to keep her breathing in check.
Sun had asked if she wanted him to walk with her, but she felt the bigger the audience for her impending second heartbreak this week, the worse it would be, and so she was making the trek alone. In all honesty, she was hoping to keep as many people out of it as she could. So, as she reached the door to Yang's summer beach house, she hoped Yang would be the one to answer the door.
Granted, that would require her to knock on it first. Which was apparently easier said than done. Instead, Blake found herself just standing there, staring at the slightly chipped seafoam green painted front door, listening to the soft patter of raindrops on her umbrella and seagulls squawking in the distance, smelling the salt of the ocean and unpleasant but comforting rotten egg stench of the bay…
She took a breath and knocked quickly, barely registering the feeling of the wood beneath her knuckles.
As she stood there, it felt like years passed before she finally heard footsteps on the other side of the door. Her heartbeat quickened immediately and her ears twitched atop her head. She had to fight the urge to run as her stomach churned like it does on the crappy boardwalk rides, and she took another deep breath instead, closing her eyes.
She heard the front door open.
"Blake?"
