Archive of Our Own

You have never hesitated to knock on this door before, holding your breath when your knuckles make contact with wood as if the door will fight back.

It has been a while since you've last been here—a few months if you can recall.  You can recall, because you're the one keeping count. Five months. You could say that you have been busy, juggling between college classes and a full-time job, and just sharing the same roof with someone like Chloe should count as an entire chore in itself, but that's definitely not the case.

You know why. She should know why too, but she never asked out loud. It's not like you and her call much anymore either, and even that used to be an everyday thing.

You never knew you could spend so much time pacing around your room with your phone in hand, thumb hovering over the send button, erasing and rewriting the same question over and over again until you ran out of ways to word it any differently.

Can I come over? Then you counted to three, nearly backing out when you realized you were still counting, already at nine, before you had to make Chloe send it for you. It's stupid, you know. All you did was text her a simple question, when you used to send her cat memes at three in the morning. You hate it just as much as you hate yourself sometimes.

You want to blame it on time, placing itself between you and her, but even with all of that lost time and no making up, you haven't forgotten anything. You didn't forget which floor her apartment was on as you stepped into the elevator. You didn't forget the direct path to the door that you're standing in front of right now or the numbers on it that makes up her address. You haven't forgotten how well time has treated her, turning her from your cute, endearing friend to the beautiful, young woman that she is now.

Nor have you forgotten her birthday—never her birthday. It's unforgettable in a way that you don't even know if it's a good thing or not. With the way your mind tends to wander, forgetting important birthdays such as your parents' or even Chloe's, you manage to convince yourself that it's a good thing. Your mind will believe anything at this point.

You're still holding your breath, you realize, and now your mind is racing. How long has it been? You can already picture yourself turning purple at this point. Maybe you'll pass out and not have to put yourself through this. Maybe she's not home? No, that's definitely movement you can hear behind the door—soft, quiet movement. You didn't think you could find more ways to back out until now, but she's sure taking her time, and you can't even think straight enough to move or run in the opposite direction.

Again, you have to convince yourself that that's a good thing.

It's stupid. You hate this.

The door finally swings open. Hazel eyes light up when she sees you. Her hair has grown slightly, making the bun sitting on top of her head even messier, more unruly than it already has been. She's gotten skinnier, in ways that you hope are healthy. The grin on her face is huge, lopsided, but soft and gentle seemingly all at the same time.

"Max!"

Kate Marsh greets you, as loud as her softer voice can reach, as excited as the quiet girl can get.

Your heart skips a beat, or more accurately, almost fucking stops, now pounding in your ears to make up for its mistake. You can't stop yourself from staring, because you're realizing just how beautiful she has truly become. You take everything in, from her eyes, her face, the sharper lines that make her look less like a teenager and more like an adult, as if it's the first time, because a part of you thought that you'd never be able to again.

She's changed, but she hasn't. You're wondering how that even makes sense. It feels like it's been years, but it's only been a few months—a few of some of the longest months of your life without her.

"Hey." Your voice cracks. You wave awkwardly. You haven't changed much at all. It's not really surprising, but you still want to kick yourself for it.

Kate just continues to smile at you. She must not be surprised either.

"It's been a while!" She holds her hands together in front of her like she's praying, before she opens her arms out completely before you. "Where's my hug at?"

Your feet feel rooted to the spot you're standing in. You hope she won't notice your hesitation, and with the way she closes her eyes, waiting patiently, you're glad that she doesn't.

But it's not like you can possibly resist Kate's open arms. Her hugs are way up there in your list of favorites, even surpassing Chloe's tight, bony hugs, but right now, you're not sure where they stand anymore. You can feel it without even having to think about it.

She doesn't throw her arms around your neck like she used to. Her small arms no longer threaten to squeeze the life out of you with surprising amounts of strength or hold you gently like she would a small animal or something to be treasured. She just places her hands on your back. The warmth isn't there anymore.

You try not to complain, because you're doing the exact same thing. You no longer hold her tight to protect her from all that is wrong with the world. You hold back. You put space between you and her, as if giving her room to run if she needs to. It's as if you are the one that she needs protecting from—

You immediately cut that thought short, pushing it out of your mind so hard that it starts to hurt. Kate is already pulling away from you, even though she's the one that used to subtly try to linger in your arms after a long hug.

She's still smiling, even when she steps to the side to let you in her apartment. You don't want to ruin that perfect smile. You've done it before. You refuse to do it again. So you push all of your thoughts to the side, as far as you possibly can, if it means you can just spend time with one of your best friends on her freaking birthday.

So you finally smile back at her. "Happy birthday, Kate."

"Thank you, Max."

"So how old are you?" You can't hide the excitement from your voice. You already know, but you just want to hear it out loud.

She smiles sheepishly, rolling her eyes lightly at you. "Twenty-one, Max."

A smirk makes its way on your face before you start nudging at her side. "Twenty-one, huh? You ready to go to the club, get wasted and pass out?"

She shoots her own smirk in your direction. "Even if I wanted to, it's not like I can take you to any clubs, young lady."

You let out a long, exaggerated groan at that. "You know I'm only nine days younger than you."

"And you know that I'd rather do anything else than go to some lame club."

"So what are we doing today?" You hover around awkwardly between Kate's kitchen and the living room instead of immediately lounging on her couch like you usually would.

"Oh, um…" Kate mumbles to herself. "I was thinking the usual—pizza and Disney movies?" The way you start staring at her must make her sheepish, as she starts to play with the cross around her neck. "I mean, I know it's nothing special, but after all the important birthdays, I'd rather just relax now." She sighs, her stiff shoulders deflating. "I just feel old now."

You chuckle at that. "No, I get it."

"And…" She continues, her hand going back to nervously fiddle with her cross. "I've missed doing this with you."

You've missed this too—not just the pizza and watching movies that you missed. It's everything, just this. You've missed being able to talk and act like this with her again. She looks happy. You feel happy. You can feel the empty void that you have been holding onto being filled again. It fills with joy, excitement, but most of all, hope.

You hope you'll never lose this again. You hope you and her can keep going from here.

"Is that okay?" She takes your silence as the opposite of what you're feeling right now.

So you give her the most genuine smile you could offer, "Of course—" with the tiniest bit of a shit-eating grin in it. "—old lady."

"What—" She doesn't know how to react, her relieved smile shifting to a stunned look of horror to a childish pout. "Hey, you're also turning twenty-two, Max! In just nine days!"

"Whatever you say, old lady."

Kate huffs out loud as she walks passed you to the other room, pulling out her phone to order the pizza, so you head towards the TV in the living room to dig through her collection of PG movies. With every movie you finger through, you feel as if you've watched them over a dozen times already.

It's been so long. You remember doing this back when you lived in a dorm, passing out into the third or fourth movie of the night, panicking when you woke up the next morning—not because you were lying on top of Kate, but because you and her always wound up being late for class.

Kate peeks her blonde hair and hazel eyes from around the corner. "Max, you wanted pineapple on your pizza, right?"

The nostalgic smile on your face changes into a grimace. "Never have and never will."

She covers the end of the phone so that the other line doesn't hear her. "Weirdo."

"Dork."

After a few decisive minutes, you're left with two movies in your hands, looking between the right and left one. "More serious question, Kate," you call out. "Tangled or Frozen?"

"What do you think, Max?" she shouts from the other room. "Tangled, obviously!"

"See? We do have a lot more in common, despite how much older you are!"

A pillow hits your back, flopping over behind you with such force that one would expect from someone like Kate Marsh.

"Oh, Max, I forgot!" she says suddenly. "Do you think you can start boiling some water? We're having tea, aren't we?"

"Sure!" You call back, and you hope that it was convincing enough. You're glad that she's still in the other room, so she can't see the way your face just fell. You walk over to the kitchen and open the cupboard where Kate always keeps her expensive tea sets.

"Kate, where do you usually put your tea stuff?" You have to shout because you're sticking your head inside the fifth cupboard so far.

"Um, actually, Max…" Her voice appears right next to you, making you jump and nearly bump your head into the top of the cabinet. When you pull yourself out to look at her, your eyes widen at what she's holding in her hands. "I was thinking maybe we could drink this instead?"

It takes a few seconds for your mouth to start working again. "Oh, uh…" The bottle of wine stares back at you, daring you to say something. It just looks out of place, especially in the hands of Kate. "I-I was just joking, you know? About earlier?"

"I know, but…" She lets out a small laugh. "It's my twenty-first birthday, after all." She cringes slightly at her own words after hearing them out loud. "I know it sounds… silly, but I've been saving this for today."

"But you don't drink, Kate. You haven't drank since—" You shut yourself up immediately. Your mouth hangs open as you realize just what you were about to bring up, and the smile she's been wearing all day falters, but it rights itself just as quickly.

"I wouldn't do this with just anyone, Max," she says. "I trust you completely."

You take a sip of your chamomile tea, watching as a princess in a pink dress sings and skips around upon her tower, performing half of her daily routine with her impossibly long hair either helping or just getting in the way. You're pretty sure you've memorized the words to this song at this point, but your mind just draws blanks this time. The movie just started, and you're already barely paying any attention.

Instead, you find yourself glancing at the girl sitting to your left every so often. Her eyes are glued to the movie compared to yours. She quietly hums the chorus to herself. She sways slightly to the beat, covering the giggle that comes out of her mouth at an amusing part—all of that before taking a giant bite of pizza.

God, she's fucking perfect.

She looks so small occupying her own side of the couch. You feel so alone on the other. Even with all of the blankets and pillows she gave you, you still feel cold. It's hard, damn near impossible, to compare the warmth some blanket can offer to what the owner, herself, can.

You can't forget how it felt to have her arm wrapped around your middle and yours around her waist, her head on your shoulder as you inhaled the scent of her shampoo, or her ear against your chest, your heart beating rapidly which she always teased you and your reddening face for.

"Max?" That is until she finally notices you staring. "What is it?"

"Uh—" And you turn away sharply to blurt out the first appropriate thing that comes to mind, changing the subject that hasn't even been brought up. "She kinda reminds me of you. Rapunzel."

She looks at you, unimpressed with a mouthful of bacon, pineapple and extra cheese. "You say that every time we watch this."

But that doesn't stop you or the pepperoni, sausage and no pineapple in your mouth. "How can I not? You're both white, blonde, pretty and have super long hair."

Her hand goes straight to her head, her face already glowing a faint pink. "My hair isn't that long." She pouts at you, twirling a loose lock around her finger. "You're white too, Max."

"You both talk to animals too."

"I do not talk to Alice!" And the blush on her face comes in full force. "… A-Anymore!"

She freezes after realizing what just came out of her own mouth, turning away from you with her face even redder than what you thought was possible. She takes a long sip from her teacup, tipping her head back, finishing it one swig to hide her blazing cheeks. You laugh at her. She huffs at you.

It's always worth it just to see the girl blush—not like it's hard to do so. It only takes something lighthearted and innocent to embarrass her. There were other ways to go about it of course, and you discovered that the first time was the last time you ever want to see her face red with shame instead of embarrassment.

She pours herself another glass. You try not to think about it too much when the dark red liquid swishes around the cup and it's brought back to stain her pink lips.

You had both started out the same, grimacing at your first tiny sip, drinking it slowly because the burn was too much for your throat, laughing at each other's sour expressions. The warmth you feel when it reaches your stomach isn't too bad, you guess.

Maybe Kate just liked it more than you did. Her sips grew longer. Her cup emptied faster. Each gulp went down easier than the last. The warmth in her stomach spreads to her face.

"You're still on your first glass, Max."

"Yeah, I…" You force another sip down your throat as if it will convince her otherwise. "I'm… still getting used to it, I guess."

"Don't like it?"

"It's… different." You say, and she tilts her head at you, waiting for you to elaborate. You're not sure how though, opting to take the easiest way that comes to mind. "Way different from when I was thirteen with Chloe."

She's heard that story before. She always enjoyed listening to your adventures with your blue-haired best friend. "Different as in better or worse?" she asks with a giggle.

"Um… better?" You tell her and yourself.

"I can agree with that." She swirls the cup and its contents around in her hand. "I did stop taking a sip at church ever since…"

Her sentence hangs in the air unfinished. You're not sure how to respond, if there is even a way to respond, so you turn your attention back to your glass. It's barely gone down past half.

"I'm…" You suddenly mutter, unable to handle the silence or finish your thoughts correctly. "I'm driving tonight, too."

"Max," she laughs, touching your shoulder, and you swear that's her thumb rubbing circles, drawing soft patterns between your neck and your collarbone. "It's not like we're trying to get wasted or anything. If you do, you could just…" Her thumb brushes slightly underneath the fabric of your shirt. "I don't know, sleep here or something. I don't mind."

You can't deny it, no matter how much you try to convince yourself.

Things aren't the same between you two anymore. It's obvious, so easy to see. You've provided enough examples, would haves, could haves, followed by buts and the word instead.

It has never been like this. After what she's been through, she quickly became an important part in your life. You made sure to talk to her everyday, check on her everyday, so much that you were worried you were just annoying her, but she made sure you knew that wasn't true. Days spent talking and getting better slowly turned into tea sessions, violin and guitar lessons, movies and arguing over who gets to hold Alice.

You understood each other, so much that even Chloe started making jokes about being replaced soon. You assured that would never happen. You also thought that something like this would never happen with Kate. It seemed perfect from the outside. She trusted you. You respected her boundaries.

It was never easy with her. It took time to gain her trust, and you were happy to be a proud owner of Kate's trust.

You and Kate have grown distant, and you're not just talking about the distance between you and her on the couch.

It's always halfway into the movie that Kate would end up cuddled into your side. Rapunzel and Flynn Rider sing their love for each other underneath the lights of hundreds of lanterns.

You never remembered inching closer to her, or if she would be the one to do so. It would just happen, and you wouldn't complain. She's soft, warm and cute. How could you possibly complain?

The space between you and her feels like it is miles long now. All you would have to do is scoot over a few inches and wrap an arm around her like you've always done. Maybe you'd fake a yawn like you were in a terrible rom-com, and Kate would laugh before resting her head on your shoulder.

As for the distance in your relationship, it wouldn't even take a few inches to clear it. All you'd have to do is talk to her. Just fucking talk to her.

This is normal, you tell yourself over and over again. This is normal.

Cuddling with Kate is completely and utterly fucking normal. You and her have done this enough in the past to make it normal, and neither of you would bat an eye, just smile and hold each other close.

She wraps an arm around you. She buries her head into your shoulder. Her hair tickles against your chin. Your heart pounds, and she presses her cheek closer to your breast—your chest, not that!—to giggle at how fast it's beating. None of this should be unfamiliar to you.

What's unfamiliar to you is the way you're so keenly aware of her breath on your neck, hot and heavy with the smell of wine. What's more unfamiliar to you is the knot you feel in your throat, waiting for what will come next with anxiety instead of anticipation.

What's completely unfamiliar to you is the sharp gasp you let out when you feel something even softer on your collarbone. The feeling slowly inches up your neck, and the more you think about it, the softer and wetter it feels.

"K… Kate?"

Her thumb drawing patterns into your skin moves to hold your chin in place, before she presses her lips to the curve of your jaw.

"Kate, I-I…" Each kiss makes it harder and harder to think, sending your mind spiraling further. "I-I'm not really sure… about this," you manage to stutter out. Your body completely disagrees with your words, with the way you clutch at her shirt to keep her close.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't resist," she laughs lightly, her voice a hushed whisper. You can tell she's not trying to sound seductive, but it still sends shivers down your spine. "You don't want this… Max?"

You do. God knows how long you've wanted this, and He probably judges you for thinking about one of his angels in such ways. There's just one thing, and it's the one thing that's keeping you from throwing yourself all over her.

"No?" she says, taking your silence as such. "I'm sorry then. That must have been weird." She pushes softly against your—oh, my God—your chest to get off of you.

But your body acts before your mind can, and you pull her back, catching her and yourself off guard when her face is right in front of yours.

Kate's stunned expression changes to a smile, a genuine, sweet smile. "You do want this, don't you?" She gazes into your eyes, and you feel like you are under a spell, because you can't look away. "I do too. I have for so long now."

Your mouth opens and closes until it finally decides to start working again.

"Kate, you're…"

Amazing. Smart. Funny. Beautiful. The list goes on.

"… Drunk."

She reaches up to cup your face. "And you're blushing, Max," she giggles. "I can't tell if you're the one who's drunk or just embarrassed. It's cute."

On the screen, Rapunzel desperately tries to save the man she loves, knowing that her long, blonde hair is gone. Still, she continues to sing, even as he dies in her arms and her tears fall on his face.

It was quite a sight to see for the first time—seeing Kate's eyes water, covering her mouth with her left hand and swiping at her eyes with her right. Then Eugene wakes up with a line so smooth that even you swooned. They kiss and live happily ever after. Kate's tears remained, but she was smiling instead, her face the lightest shade of pink.

It was probably the cutest thing you've ever seen in your life, until Kate realized she was being watched the whole time, pointing out that your eyes are also watery before you could even start teasing her.

But your eyes are completely dry, and so are Kate's, despite the fact that she watched this a countless number of times and she still cried with each one. This has to be the first time she didn't cry watching Tangled, and you're not sure if you want to know why.

"You didn't cry, Kate."

She looks at you, then back to the movie, as if she's just realizing the same thing.

"I'm all out of tears, I guess."

You freeze, because what is that even supposed to mean? "You've… been crying?"

She freezes too, but turns to you with a prepared smile, as if you didn't notice—as if she didn't hear your question. "You didn't cry either, Max. I guess we've just grown out of it."

"I…"

You hate this, but it isn't stupid.

She's just as messed up as you are. She's just as good at pretending as you are. She's just as afraid as you are.

"Kate, I…"

She wraps her arms around your neck. Your hands tangle into her hair, pulling strands loose from her bun.

You can't stop yourself even if you tried. It's not like you even want to stop. You have to take sharp breaths through your nose, forgetting how to breathe with your mouth occupied like this. She kisses you softly and gently, exactly how you've expected what kissing Kate would feel like. Her lips are warm, moist, and softer than you could even imagine.

And you've imagined this a lot, but none of it could even prepare you for the real thing. You can feel every inch of her body against yours as she melts completely into you. The warmth turns into an overwhelming heat, but you don't mind it even as it gets hotter and hotter.

You've never done this with anyone before, yet you don't miss a beat, even when Kate kisses you harder, when her lips part slightly, or when her tongue slips into your mouth.

She isn't shy with it. You tilt your head to the side to allow her more access. Her tongue feels for the roof of your mouth and the back of your teeth, before finally meeting your own tongue.

You can taste the wine. It's bitter and doesn't taste like Kate. You try to ignore it, but the harder you try, the harder it becomes.

"Max?" 

You try to speak, but the words just get caught in your throat. You keep trying, which is when you realize that you literally sound like a broken record player. It would've been funny on any other day, but you clench your eyes shut and shake your head at nothing.

"Max, what's wrong?"

One look at her or her perfect smile will make you lose what little bravery you already have.

"Everything…" you finally manage to get out.

"Huh?" The way she says that, as if completely clueless, just makes you shut your eyes harder. "You can tell me anything, Max. You know that."

You open your eyes, but your gaze stays fixed to the ground, refusing to look at her. "That's what I used to think." You can already picture the hurt expression she might have on her face. "That's not true. You should know that, Kate."

"Maybe I'll know if you'd just tell me what's wrong!" Her voice drips with concern, and you can't tell if it's even real or not.

"All of this is wrong." Silence fills the air as she waits for you to continue. You take a deep breath and steel yourself. "We can't keep pretending, Kate. I'll lose it if we keep going like this. We need to talk about what happened."

When you finally manage a look at her, the smile she's been wearing all day is gone. Now, she's the one avoiding your eyes.

"But... we've talked about this already, haven't we?" She mutters, her hand going back to her cross like it always does. "And I was never pretending. Didn't we both agree to just forget it even happened?"

"How can I, Kate?" It's been on your mind since the day it happened. "It's not like you forgot, either."

"Well, I'm trying, Max. You're making it hard to do so." She finally looks back at you, but it's short-lived. She tries to look at everything that isn't you. "It's not a big deal," she whispers.

"Of course it's a big deal!" you snap.

She flinches. Her hand immediately clutches at her cross, and she quickly turns away from you. You yelled at her. You've never yelled at her before. You lower your voice, feeling terrible for scaring her.

"Of course it's a big deal, Kate…"

You lower your voice further, because you're too ashamed to even say it loud.

"I… I took advantage of you."

She shakes her head, denying it like you've been doing for so long. "No… No, you didn't, Max." Before you can even try to argue, she looks back at you, and the smile she puts on her face is shaky and far from happy. "It's all me. It was my fault. I just did something… stupid like usual, which is why I just want to forget."

"Kate, no—"

"Please, Max…" She cuts you off, and you can hear it in her voice. She just wants to believe that it's her fault, but knowing doesn't make you feel any better.

You wait a few seconds to continue, because you don't even feel ready to do so. "You can blame yourself all you want, but it doesn't excuse what I did." You feel disgusting just thinking about it. "You were drunk, and…" It feels worse saying it out loud. "I was sober."

You nearly choke on your own words, a sob wanting to come out instead.

"How does that make me any different from the assholes who did the same to you back in Blackwell?"

She doesn't break the contact between your lips when she swings both of her legs over each side of you, straddling your lap. Your hands immediately go to her waist, and they're trembling.

She must have noticed, with the way she takes your hand and brings it to stroke her bare thigh. You can't even focus enough to feel how soft and delicate her skin is. You're just thinking about how you must be the first person to touch her so intimately, and if you even deserve to be.

Kate kisses you hungrily. She lets out soft whimpers and faint moans into your lips. You're pretty sure you were too, but you've stopped once you gained back control of your conscience. It's messy and sloppy—the complete opposite of the sweet, gentle kisses you preferred so much more.

You can't taste her anymore. All you can taste is the wine, and you hate it.

Stop. You feel gross. You pull back, but she leans in further, her tongue fighting yours. You feel disgusting.

Stop stop stop stopstopstopstopstop—

You push hard against her shoulders. You remember to breathe, greedily refilling your lungs with your own air instead of hers. Kate does the same. Her breathing was just as heavy as she kissed you.

But that's when you notice it.

Her gaze is fixed on her lap, not looking at you. The more she breathes, the more it looks like she's having a hard time. Her breath is labored, not heavy. Her chest heaves up and down, faster and faster.

"K… Kate?"

She backs away from you, scrambling off of your lap and to the other side of the couch. Her hands clutch at her hair, and she's gasping for air at this point.

"Kate!" You don't hesitate to crawl back to the other girl, grabbing her shoulders. "No, no, no, please not now!"

She hasn't had a panic attack in so long. You thought she stopped having them entirely. You don't even have time to hate yourself for being the one to bring them back to her, because you should be helping her right now.

But her body trembles harder the closer you get. Her shoulders squirm in your hands, like she wants you to get away from her. You used to be the one to help her with her attacks, now she looks like she doesn't even want to be near you.

"KATE!"

Her head snaps back up to look at you.

"Max…?"

You let out a long, harsh sigh of relief. "Oh, my God, Kate, are you—" You cut yourself off.

She's still shaking in your hands. Her eyes are still wide as she looks at you. She brings her arms defensively over her chest. She looks terrified.

She looks terrified of you.

"I-I'm sorry." She's gained her breath back, if only to hold her sobs back. "I'm so sorry."

What? Why is she apologizing? You're the one who— oh, God.

"N-No! Don't be! I'm the one who should be saying sorry!" You try to calm her down, even though you're already starting to freak out.

"You should go, Max."

Your heart drops to your stomach. "What?"

"I need to be alone right now."

"But… But I can't just leave you like this!" You realize that she's still shaking, and you're still holding onto her, so you pull your arms away as if you've been scalded. "Kate, I—"

"Max."

You've never heard her so stern before, as if she's warning you.

"You're so strong," you say. "You went through hell and came out even stronger because of it. And I just… fuck it all up."

Kate doesn't agree or disagree with you. She just stares sadly at the space between you and her.

"So tell me, Kate…" You stare at the same spot she's been staring at, unable to look at her even if you tried. "How can I just forget? How am I any different from them?"

"That's the thing, Max…" she says. "You're different in so many ways."

She lets out a laugh. It's weak and hollow, but it's a laugh regardless, and it helps change the room's atmosphere, thick with tension.

"You're Max." Kate smiles. "My best friend. My guardian angel. The only one who helped when I needed it most. The only one who stopped me when I tried to… throw myself off of a freaking roof." Her smile falters, but she does her best to keep it up. "The one who would try and sneak into my hospital room past visiting hours."

Now you're smiling, just as sadly as she is, because you nearly forgot. It's been so long since all of that happened, and you've been busy thinking about this. She was always so grateful for you, but you never let it define your relationship with her. It was just the right thing to do, and you'd do it over and over again if you had to.

"Fuck!"

It takes a few seconds for you to realize that was Kate who just cursed out loud. You would've found it funny in any other situation, but Kate's covering her face with her hands, rubbing at her eyes and biting her lip to stop it from quivering.

"You know my video is still up," she says. "All you have to do is search up Christian Gone Wild, and the first result is me on some porn site."

"I wouldn't know." You shiver at the mere thought of that, because, God, that's horrible. "I never watched it," and you never will.

"I appreciate that, Max," but it's not like it's enough to reverse the damage that's already been done.

You shake your head. "I'm serious. I could never watch your privacy be violated like that."

Sometimes you still loathe Victoria for posting it, even if she did take it down so long ago. Even if she did apologize to Kate with tears in her eyes, becoming the newest leader of the Protect-Kate-Marsh Squad until the day they graduated.

"Whatever's on that video, I did the same thing to you, and… I fucking hate myself so much for it." Just saying it loud makes you feel even worse. "You weren't in the right state of mind, and I couldn't stop myself."

She shakes her head again. "You're not the same, Max. You did stop. You could've kept going, but you didn't."

At least that is true, but it doesn't make you feel any better.

"I told you it's my fault. I was afraid, and I…" She clenches her teeth. Her tiny hands tighten into angry fists. "I didn't know what to do." You can see her anger dissolve into loathing, as she covers her eyes with a hand. "I'm such a coward."

"Kate, no, you—"

"I am!"

Kate raising her voice is still something that shuts you up, but she's not mad at you. She's mad at herself. She's doing it again. She's always done this in the past. You've always hated how much the other girl would refuse to acknowledge what's so great about her, for what she doesn't like about herself instead.

"I was eighteen. It's been four years, and…" She wraps her arms around herself as if it will protect herself from her own inner torment. "I'm sorry. I'm still not over it."

She whimpers to herself, and you just want to hold her close until her problems go away, but you and her both know that's impossible. It would hurt too much if she pushed you away. It hurts enough when you look at her, and all you can see is the terrified girl that she doesn't want to be.

"I hate this…" She hugs herself tighter, like she's trying to hurt herself instead. "I hate my stupid video. I hate that I still think about it. I hate that I'm still afraid to drink or party like a regular person. I hate that…" She trails off, biting her lip as tears start to form on her eyes. "I-I hate that when I look at you, it all starts coming back to me.

"You're too important to me to be afraid of you!"

You watch as she wipes fruitlessly at her face. You're still processing exactly what she said and how much it hurt to hear.

"You're…" You struggle to even say. "You're afraid of me?"

She sobs. She doesn't stop sobbing. Her face is wet with tears and red with shame. She keeps trying to wipe all of her tears away until she just gives up and covers her face with her hands instead.

"I'm sorry," she cries.

The mere sight of her is too much for you to handle, and you're pretty sure you've started doing the same thing. It stings your eyes as you try to hold them back.

You gather your things to leave.

You move slowly, pathetically hoping that Kate will change her mind. You move quickly, fearing that you'll just make things worse for taking too long.

When you reach the door, your hand stops before it reaches the knob to take one more look at her. She's the same as all the other times you looked at her—silent, unmoving from her spot on the couch, turned away from you.

It hurts to see her like this. It hurts more knowing that you should be the one to make her feel better, yet here you are, leaving. You swallow the pain and will yourself to open the door.

"We'll talk tomorrow," Kate says suddenly, the moment you take your first step outside. "I'll call you."

"Okay," is all you can say, but you're hovering outside of her door. You want to say more. It may be completely wrong to say it at a time like this—because it fucking is—but you just want to hear it. You need to know if things will ever be the same, if after you and her talk tomorrow, you'll both be right back to eating pizza and watching kids movies.

"Love you, Kate."

Kate was the one to say it first when you visited her in the hospital. It was so casual that when you said it back to her, you didn't die of embarrassment. It felt good to say, so you kept saying it and she did too. It became a regular thing, just something casual to say after a goodbye.

So it breaks your heart when you can hear the hesitation in her voice.

"I love you too, Max."

You can't stand to see her like this. You've seen this enough.

As much as you've been telling yourself that you're the reason why, Kate's just putting all of the blame on herself again.

Nothing really has changed, hasn't it?

She still sees the best in you, but can't do the same for herself. As for you, you've always seen the best in her. You never stopped, even when you felt like shit and avoided her, too ashamed with yourself for ruining one of the best things you had with her.

You waited a whole year before finally growing a pair, as Chloe would call it. You thought you were done doing that. You're just glad that it was only one year and not five. It still upsets you, because it never should have been a year in the first place.

"Come here, Kate."

You don't care anymore. She may not want you to hold her, but you're going to fucking hold her even if it kills you. It's not about you anymore. You're going to make everything better like you always have. That's the reason you even came here, yet you still tried to go around it instead of facing it.

You're not the same awkward teenager from four years ago, and Kate's not the same broken, terrified girl. At least, she doesn't want to be, and you don't either.

She buries her head in hands and shakes her head rapidly. "I don't deserve someone like you, Max."

"That's bullshit, and you know it." She flinches at your language. You're only ever like this when you're determined, and you're absolutely determined right now. "I'm not leaving you this time."

"You've already done so much for me." Her voice is muffled through her hands, but you can still hear her choking back her cries. "What have I done for you in return?"

"That's not how it works, Kate." You never did what you did to get something back from her. "Everything I did for you was because you're important to me. You mean so much to me, Kate."

You did it because you love her, and you fucked it up like usual. Now you're doing it again, because you don't want to be afraid to love her.

She moves her hands away from her face. Her face is still just as red and wet from when you last saw it. Her tears don't stop falling as she looks at you desperately.

"So… It's okay for me to ask more from you?" She asks, having trouble choking back a sob because a sad smile finds its way on her face. "You'll help me again? For nothing in return?"

You nod, wiping the tears off of your own face.

"Please help me, Max."

You let out a laugh, unable to stop the grin that forms on your face.

"I don't even know why you're asking for my permission."

And with those words, Kate completely throws herself at you. You catch her easily, but with the way she pretty much tackles you, nearly crushing your neck between her arms, you fall backwards at the force. You may be squished between her small frame and her couch, but that doesn't stop you from holding her tight, so much that you're afraid you'll hurt her. That doesn't happen, because she's the one to squeeze you tighter when your arms loosen even a little bit.

"Please stay with me, Max." She sobs into your shoulder. "I don't want to be alone."

You've never been happier to do so. In fact, you've never been happier in your entire life. You feel alive. You're glad that Kate is alive with you. You feel young, like you're eighteen again, cuddled up with the other girl back in Blackwell with your awkwardly timed jokes and cheesy lines that she loved to hear.

"I have work tomorrow morning," you say, and she looks at you sadly, disappointed. You're already prepared to change that. "So they better find someone to cover my shift."

You've never seen a brighter smile on her face before, and when she closes her eyes, pressing her forehead against yours, her tears fall on your face. She reaches over her to brush them away with her thumbs, laughing because the more she wipes them away, the more tears continue to fall.

This time, there's nothing else you want to say more than "I love you, Kate," and you're not sure if it's just something casual anymore, because you mean it. You fucking mean it.

She doesn't hesitate, and your heart swells so much that it hurts.

In a good way, of course.

"I love you too, Max."

She pushes her face into your chest, nuzzling closer to you. The warmth is back, and you revel in the feeling of laying with Kate like this. You stroke the back of her head, holding her close. You've missed this so much.

You almost don't believe that this is even happening, but you can feel her chest breathing against yours, her heart beating just as fast as yours, and it doesn't feel wrong at all. You're not scared.

"Oh!" You remember suddenly. She looks up at you curiously. "I got something for you."

She watches as you reach into your pocket awkwardly due to the position you're both in. "You shouldn't have, Max," she giggles, sniffing up the last of her tears.

"It's nothing, really." You look at the Polaroid for yourself, before handing it over. "I'll get you a real present when I'm not broke."

She gasps. "This is..."

"Our first tea session," you finish for her. "I, uh... I don't know why I decided to give that to you, but..." You rub at the back of your neck.

"I love it." She holds it to her chest. "I..." She meets your gaze with a tiny, hopeful smile. "I really want to kiss you. Is that bad?"

It could be, but the sound of that doesn't scare you. The thought of it doesn't either, and when you look at her, she looks just as unafraid.

"Whenever you're ready, Kate." You don't care if it's now or never, as long as it doesn't cost you another birthday. "We'll see where this takes us."