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9:18 P.M. ON A TUESDAY.
Cordelia’s just come back to the apartment after a long day of class and an even more stressful day at work. She’s not sure what it is about Dr. Starkweather, the resident menace to the language department, and looking for everything to go bad, but Cordelia finds it uncanny. And, for some reason, she’s the only one Starkweather doesn’t hate, so she naturally the one that gets shoved in his direction.
Needless to say, as she gets off the elevator, walks to her door, and twists her key, all she wants to do is lie face down on her bed and sleep. Homework and responsibility be damned. Instead, she comes back to chaos. Her roommate, Lucie, who she’s known all her life, is in a pair of mismatched fuzzy socks, one leopard print, the other one fashioned to look like a snowman. She’s got one of her boyfriend’s sweatshirts on that’s absolutely massive on her, a tiny pair a hot-pink Nike Pro’s that clash horribly with the brown-yellow-green combination of her sweatshirt. She’s pacing the hallway, talking on the phone loudly.
She smiles at Cordelia, motions towards the phone and rolls her eyes. Cordelia smiles and shakes her head in return, continuing her journey to her bedroom. Perhaps she’ll put off the sleep part of her plan until after Lucie gets off the phone. Sue her - she's curious.
Cordelia takes her backpack off and places it on the floor near her desk, puts her coat on the back of her chair and raises her arms to quickly stretch her back. She heads over to her dresser, taking off her clothes of the day and switches them out for a pair of ratty sweatpants and a sweatshirt.
Cordelia looks at herself in the mirror for a second, then hears Lucie go off about some girl on the phone.
There’s no way she’s lying down before she hears about this.
She decides to brave the kitchen. She takes an orange from the fridge, sits at the kitchen table and peels it, as she scrolls through her phone and tries not to eavesdrop on Lucie’s conversation. She’s able to make it some sort of background noise, which works. Not that it matters, she’s so caught up in eating her orange and watching a makeup tutorial that she doesn’t notice Lucie slip into the chair across from her.
“Daisy,” she says, with a huff, but there’s a hint of excitement behind her eyes, “You’ll never believe what's happened.”
Cordelia pauses her video and looks up at her friend, “Hm?”
“That was James,” Lucie says gleefully, “He just broke up with Grace!”
Cordelia’s heart lurches.
“What!?” She says, not sure what else to say – she doesn’t want to betray herself to Lucie, doesn’t want her to know that she’s suddenly full of hope, full of something that she’s dampened down for years now.
“That’s what I said – he said he caught her with Charles Fairchild –“
Lucie delves into the whole story – how she’s not really surprised, as she thought it was only a matter of time before they ended it. Cordelia isn’t really sure she agrees with that because James and Grace had been dating since high school – it’s been years. But Lucie, ever the romantic, who never liked Grace, held onto her conviction, and she had been right.
Grace was too cold, too unfeeling towards James, who feels too much, who loves so wholly and completely. Grace, who had no limits upon herself but kept James in chains. Grace, who was a little too suspicious of anyone who was too nice to her and James, who was rude to Lucie, who had no regard for his friends.
“But I thought Charles was gay?” Cordelia says, not really understanding why Grace would want to cheat on James to begin with, let alone with Charles.
“Yeah, dude, I have no idea. James did not get into that with me. It was mostly I hope I’m making the right decision, Luce. To which I had to reply, like ‘Yes, you are. Absolutely. She’s the worst’ but in a nice way, you know?”
Cordelia knows all too well – older brothers apparently do not have good taste. She nods.
“I just, wow,” Lucie says, smiling “can’t believe she’s finally gone. It only took him three years.”
Cordelia, who has always shared the same sentiment towards Grace, can’t help but agree.
“Yeah. That’s wild.”
Lucie sits back in her chair, sticks her hands behind her head and closes her eyes, still clearly elated over the news, “Wild is certainly the right word for it.”
1:07 A.M. ON A SATURDAY.
It’s been two weeks since the big news about Grace and James came out, and honestly, Cordelia is still reeling.
Part of her feels like that seventeen year old girl again. Part of her feels like she might have a chance with the guy she’s been in love with since forever ago. Part of her thinks it’s really going to happen this time, like she thought it was going to happen last time, before Grace popped into the picture, ruined Cordelia’s hopes, and alienated her from one of her best friends.
Cordelia knows she’s not that seventeen year old girl anymore. She knows James isn’t going to just come crawling back into her life, fall instantly in love with her like she thought he was all those years ago, and call it a happy ever after.
This is not one of Lucie’s stories.
But, God, she hopes.
It’s the first Friday in a while where she doesn’t have to worry about work, or two papers being due at the same time on a Monday morning, and she’s in the mood to go out – so, that’s how she finds herself with at the bar with Lucie, Lucie’s boyfriend, Jesse, and their friend Anna.
Cordelia is well on her way to being more than decently drunk, and she should probably stop drinking, but it doesn’t help that Lucie and Jesse are being disgusting and in love and that Anna keeps offering to buy her Dirty Shirley’s (two for six is a bargain, and the bartender is making them strong, okay?) Anna is also being stupid nice to her because she wore that blue top – the one that’s a nice TARDIS blue, that Anna thinks brings out the red in her hair and the brown-copper tones in her skin.
Cordelia doesn’t like just standing around, and “Like A G6” has just started playing, so she grabs Anna’s hand and pulls her up onto the crowded dance floor. Cordelia’s desperately into it, jumping along, spilling and sipping her drink along the way – you know, multitasking. She sings along with Anna, with that guy from her Stats class freshman year who kind of reminded her of Chris Hemsworth if he was American and a little ugly, and a bunch of other randos.
The song changes, and changes again. She keeps dancing with Anna. Cordelia starts noticing the room is spinning, and she laughs – telling Anna as much. Cordelia thinks Anna gives her a look, but she can’t tell. They dance for another two songs before Lucie and Jesse catch up with them, asking if they’re both ready to go. Anna answers for Cordelia.
The Uber comes not soon after they exit the bar. The chill in the air feels nice against Cordelia’s sweaty skin, and quiet hum of the city at night is much better than the pulsating music and darkness of the bar. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself. Lucie, who was walking ahead of her, turns to make sure she’s alright.
“I’m fine,” Cordelia says, “just a little dizzy.”
“Here,” Lucie drops back, letting Anna and Jesse walk together to find the car, “take my hand.”
“I love you, Lucie,” she says, taking her friends hand up to her mouth and kissing the knuckles. Lucie laughs, “Love you too, Daisy.”
Cordelia hums in response. She hears Anna call out that the Uber’s here, and she doesn’t remember getting into the car, but she finds herself between Anna and Lucie, eyes clamped shut and stomach turning. Lucie’s rubbing circles on her back, and Cordelia is willing herself to not vomit.
It’s the longest ten minutes of her life.
They make it back to their building without a problem. Cordelia walks, supported by Jesse, in the building, up the stairs, and to the door without a problem.
“Almost there, Daisy,” she says, struggling to unlock the door.
Lucie unlocks the door, they all come rushing in, Daisy breaks free of Jesse and goes to her room. She pulls out a what she thinks is a shirt and a pair of pajama pants with a rainbow zebra print that she bought at Five Below as a joke three years ago. She fishes around for a clean pair of underwear, and rushes to the bathroom.
“I’m taking a shower,” she calls out. She think Lucie responds. She’s not really sure that she’s hearing things right though, because she swears she hears more voices than just Lucie, Jesse, and Anna.
Cordelia is able to shower. It’s about five minutes long. She washes her hair and rinses herself off in the too-hot water. It feels nice, even if she knocks over Lucie’s shampoo and bruises her toe. She steps out of the shower and dries herself quickly, then steps into her underwear and puts on the shirt she grabbed – a DARE shirt which she would find ironic if she was in her right mind.
It’s at that point where she knows she’s going to vomit, and she does. It’s retched and gross and she’s pretty sure it’s in her hair, but once she’s done she feels a little better. She knows she's not done yet, though, so she stays there for a little longer before she vomits once more. She then puts her arm out along the toilet seat and rests her head there, ready to just sleep like that.
There’s a knock on the door, someone shouting for someone else, then shouting back before the door opens. Cordelia doesn’t look up, she’s too comfy like this, the cool tiled floor feels nice against her bare legs; she likes the way the red lettering of her shirt matches her red thong and hair, likes how her arm makes a comfy pillow, even if it is half asleep.
“Daisy,” the voice asks, gently. It sounds familiar, like one she so often dreams about, “are you alright?”
“’mm fine,” she mutters, hidden behind her curtain of hair. It’s at that moment where she starts retching again. She hears an 'oh shit', then someone rushes over to her, pulls her hair out of her face as she vomits, and rubs tiny circles on her back.
Despite the circumstance it feels nice to be held like this, to know that some cares about you. There’s tenderness in the gesture, even if she is puking her brains out sans pants on the bathroom floor. To be held and reassured that your okay – it’s nice. It’s comforting. Even if she isn’t sure who’s holding her.
“This is nice,” she slurs, eyes fixated in the toilet bowl, “it’s very sexy of you to be rubbing my back.”
She feels him stiffen for a moment, but she doesn’t really pay attention and he doesn’t stop as she vomits once again. It’s at this point where Lucie comes barging in –
“Oh my god, James, she shrieks quietly, “why didn’t you call –“
“I was going to –“
Cordelia gags again.
“Daisy,” Lucie says, rushing over to her friend. She ties Cordelia’s hair back. James (James!?) continues rubbing her back, “That’s it. There you go.”
Cordelia throws up one more time, then sits up, looking at Lucie and her brother – oh my god, her brother – “I am done,” she declares, then stands up. James flushes the toilet for her as she walks over to the sink and brushes her teeth. The room spins, she cant feel her face, and she tries to focus on her reflection in the mirror.
Oh god, she thinks, oh god oh god oh god. She looks like a mess – the remnants of her makeup lie under her eyes – dark and fresh out of a My Chemical Romance music video. Her eyes are red and puffy, from crying or something, and her hair is a rats nest in a loosely tied bun at the top of her head.
Lucie is trying to persuade her into putting her pants on, but Cordelia is hearing none of it. She wanders to the kitchen, ass cheeks out, and fishes through the cabinet to find a tall glass. She goes to the fridge, pulls out the Brita and pours herself some water, then gulps is right down. Jesse and Anna are seated at the table, looking at her. Jesse looks concerned, and Anna – being Anna – pulls her phone out to take a video. Cordelia throws her the bird and continues drinking her water. She eventually walks out of the room, red thong on full display, “Kiss my ass, Anna.”
She hears Anna’s laughter as she exits the room and goes to her bed. She passes Lucie and James arguing in the hallway. They both bid her goodnight. Cordelia’s feeling cordial enough to wish the same to them, but not coherent enough to notice the way James’ eyes linger on her as she walks by (which is probably a good thing; something like this would usually cause her to have a heart attack.)
She lies down in bed, notices someone’s put a bottle of water on her bedside table, then falls into a deep, blissful slumber.
3:05 P.M. THAT SAME SATURDAY
Cordelia walks in the kitchen, groggy, still without pants looking for more water and maybe something to eat. Her hair is messier than it’s ever been and her head hurts something fierce, but she makes it. She sees a couple of used coffee mugs on the table and hears the tv and light chatter from the living room. She shrugs, gets herself some water, and puts some toast in the toaster.
“I am never drinking again,” She mutters to herself, rubbing her face. She stands there for a few moments, leaning back against the counter waiting for her toast to pop. It does, with a ding, and she butters it quickly, devouring it not soon after – not bothering to grab a plate from the cabinet.
She hopes to walk back to her room without being noticed by the others in the living room but has no such luck.
She should have put pants on.
“Hey sleepyhead,” Anna teases.
“You did this to me,” she grumbles, sitting down next to her on the couch and snatching her friends blanket away from her as she leans against her shoulder.
“Still no pants, I see,” says Jesse, who’s quietly studying with Lucie on the floor by the TV.
“Oh, fuck off,” Cordelia groans; She can see Lucie snickering under her breath, “It’s not like it’s a bad ass, like, c’mon, you guys should be honored that you’ve been blessed enough to see it.”
They all give Cordelia a look for a second.
“You want me to grab you pants, Daisy?” Lucie asks.
“Yes, please.” She responds quietly. Lucie gets up and goes to grab her pants. In the meantime Anna inhales then pouts.
“You smell.”
“Too bad.”
Lucie comes back, throwing the pants at Cordelia and Anna, Cordelia catches them, jumps up and hobbles while trying to pull them up. Anna and Jesse are cheering her on, so Cordelia does her best to act even more like a fool – that’s when James walks in. She is shaking her ass, shimmying into her ratty pajama bottoms when she hears him clear his throat. She turns around, pulling the waist up as high as it can go and feels herself turn a pretty shade of scarlet.
“Hey, James,” she says, suavely. Cool, because he’s one of her good friends since forever ago. Normal, because he’s her best friends brother and how else is she supposed to say hello to the guy she’s been pining over for years, who probably won’t ever love her back –
Who saw her puking her guts out, who has had to see her bare ass more than he probably ever wanted to –
“Hey, Daisy,” he greets, then goes down to sit on the other side of Anna. Cordelia sits down, and she can feel Anna looking at her - oh god, do not blow it – she tries to keep a straight face but she’s squirming as she sits back down. Anna’s gaze gets more pointed, and Cordelia can swear Anna’s in her head, 'I’m onto you' she seems to say.
“So,” Lucie starts, “now that we’re all here – what do we think about hitting The Plant tonight?”
There’s a chorus of yeses, but Cordelia groans, “The thought of alcohol makes me want to vomit. You guys have fun.”
“C’mon, Daisy,” Lucie pleads, giving her the eyes, “James came in for the weekend and he was really looking forward to going out with all of us, right, James?”
They all turn to look at James – Cordelia thinks it probably looks like something out of a cartoon. He flushes under all their glances and gives his sister a look.
“Right, James?” She presses again.
“Yes, but –“
“See, so you’re going. That’s final.”
“But –“ James continues, glaring at his sister, “If Cordelia isn’t feeling up to it, that’s alright too.”
“Lucie, see – that’s what manners look like,” Cordelia says; Lucie sticks her tongue out.
“Whatever, loser. You say no now, but I know you. You’ll turn.”
“I am not going out,” she says in a sing-song, standing up and walking out the door.
James snorts.
She hears Anna, Lucie, and Jesse all say, “She’s going out.”
12:50 A.M. ON A SUNDAY.
Cordelia ended up going out.
She feels like garbage, and would be having a lot more fun if she was drinking, but she couldn’t say no. She can’t ever say no to Lucie, and James is in town.
She can’t miss that.
She’s sporting her favorite top – a green wrap around thing that ties itself together somehow with a deep, plunging neck, a cute little denim skirt that covers her ass – barely, and of course, her favorite pair of shitty, black bar shoes.
Her hair is down in curls, and she kind of regrets it because of how hot it is in here, but then she catches James looking at it, and she thinks it’s worth it.
Anna’s off with some girl that she knew from somewhere, Lucie and Jesse are off making out in the corner of Mosaic, so it’s just her and James dancing.
He’s trashed, but only just. They dance together, he says stupid shit that makes her laugh and she takes his hand and spins when he offers it, like it’s an old timey movie. They reminisce, catch up, He joins her in singing along to a song that no-one else seems to know –
She’s looking at his eyes – their sweet honey color glazed over with mirth that she hasn’t seen in years, his black, curly hair sticks to his forehead, and he does his best to keep pushing it out of his eyes. Cordelia looks at his face, really looks at it – all angles, and softness, and everything, and fights the urge to touch his cheek.
He’s not hers.
He just broke up with Grace Cartwright, and he’s only dancing with her because everyone else left.
Part of her thinks she has a chance – that because he left Grace he’ll realize what he could have had with Cordelia, he’ll come, randomly show up and confess that he’s been in love with her all this time, that he wants to be with her – it’ll be just like those stupid movies Lucie makes her watch (that she secretly really enjoys).
The other part of her knows James showed up on their doorstep for the weekend to catch up with his friends, to have some fun and to get Grace out of him.
Cordelia is his friend, his friend.
He needs her as his friend right now. She can do that.
She looks at his lips, chapped and red from biting them. She looks up at him again and does her best to ignore the way she notices him looking at her – like she’s the most precious thing in the room. She pretends she doesn’t notice the way his eyes flick from hers down to her own lips.
She pretends, she pretends, she pretends.
He’s drunk.
He’s her friend.
“Daisy,” he says over the music, there’s a something else there in his tone. She is not doing this right now. She pretends she doesn’t hear him.
“I love this song!” she yells, taking his hand and delving deeper into the dance floor, away from conversation, away from what could be.
4:14 P.M. ON A WEDNESDAY.
James won’t stop texting her.
It’s been a month since he came down for That Weekend, and it’s a little out of the ordinary for someone who only texts her on birthdays and holidays. It’s now constant, incessant. It’s any little thing that reminds him of her - memes, TikToks, Instagram posts of people they hated in high school, songs he thinks she’d like,
Even an unprompted 'what do you think happens when we die? 'text, which is followed up by a 'Matthew says nothing, but that can’t be the case because what's the point then?'
It’s like old times, when she and James were thick as thieves, stupid and young and invulnerable to anything – that’s how she always thought it was going to be.
She remembers being young, sitting with Lucie outside, looking at the clouds, and Lucie joking about how great it would be if Cordelia and James married when they were older, so they could be real sisters. Cordelia, who at a mere eight years old, didn’t think the idea was half bad. Cordelia, who at eight years old, didn’t really care much for marriage but thought her best friend's older brother was kind of cute.
She remembers falling in love with him like she remembers falling asleep. She remembers the way 'Daisy' slipped off his tongue the first time he called her by that name. She remembers sword fights, listening to Lucie’s stories, and everything else that made him so charming
She remembers high school and being absolutely sure he was going to ask her to prom, being assured by Lucie that he was asking someone that fit her description and being absolutely crushed when he took Grace instead. She remembers being seventeen and Grace telling her to stop being so cordial with her boyfriend because it made her uncomfortable.
She remembers the anger, the frustration, the tears. She remembers feeling like she lost a friend, sitting on the ground listening to One Direction’s “I Wish” and crying like what they had was reciprocated and real. She remembers Lucie bitching to her about Grace, listening, and being mad and James for being so stupid to stay with someone who treated him so badly.
But, yeah, they text now.
She doesn’t tell Lucie about it, but Cordelia thinks she knows, as she keeps giving her knowing glances. Anna keeps looking right through her, and Cordelia ignores it. Jesse might be in the dark, but Cordelia can never be sure what he’s thinking.
6:15 P.M. ON A THURSDAY
Cordelia is just getting home when James lets her know he’s planning on visiting again this weekend. It’s the last weekend before the end of the semester, and She and Lucie are planning a nice weekend in full of shenanigans and drinks and a celebration of friendship via an off-brand awards show.
The Oskars have been a hit for the past two years, and they don’t intend to stop now.
She and Lucie are hosting a Committee Meeting about it later tonight, to discuss awards, drinks, and logistics.
The meeting starts not soon after. Lucie emerges from the hallway. Cordelia is sure that Lucie already knows her brother’s coming down to visit, so she waits for her to bring it up in the planning committee meeting, which is just the two of them, as everyone else is barred.
Lucie does bring up how James (and his friend, Matthew) will be in attendance.
“I’m thinking of what we could write on his award," Lucie says, holding a tiny plastic trophy in her hand, “It can’t just be ‘most likely to be the worst’ because he’s not the worst since he dumped you know who, and, like, anyway that’s so basic.”
“So you’re giving it to Matthew.”
“So I’m giving it to Matthew.”
“This is a hard one,” Cordelia thinks, trying to think of something reasonably funny. Lucie pouts, and the two girls are silent for a moment. Cordelia picks at the hangnail on her thumb as she thinks of things that James could be voted most likely to be.
“I’m trying to think of something he did that we were all here for.”
“What about when he was here, like, right after he dumped Grace?”
“Oh Shit! Daisy, you’re so smart,” She gives Cordelia a look, “I didn’t realize you remembered that weekend.”
“I remember somethings,” she shrugs.
“Red thong and the DARE shirt was quite a combo.”
“Don’t kid yourself, I know you wanna hit this.”
“Cordelia,” Lucie says, sincerely, “I would dump Jesse for you in a heartbeat. Don’t you forget it.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Cordelia giggles, Lucie follows suit.
“Seriously, though. I feel like James was a total imbecile that night.”
“When he came in the bathroom to help me vomit, I had no idea who it was, and I said it was very sexy of him to be rubbing my back.”
Lucie looks at her, mouth agape, and Cordelia realizes she should have held her tongue.
“You said what?”
Fuck.
“That it was very sexy of him to be rubbing my back like that –“
“Cordelia Carstairs. You little minx –“
Cordelia chokes –
“It wasn’t like that, c’mon – you know the state I was in.”
“I sense there’s a ‘but’ coming.”
“But it just felt nice. No one’s ever touched me like that before, ya know? You’re always going on about tenderness and gentleness and touch – it felt nice to be held; I'd never been held like that.”
Lucie looks at her for a second.
“There’s a lot to unpack there, but we’ll start with two things – one – that James is voted most likely to give sexy backrubs, and two – that your definitely in love with my brother – which gross, but also I’ve been secretly rooting for you guys for years, so yay.”
Cordelia pales.
“Lucie –“
“Shush. We’ve got more things to vote on. Besides, I’m pretty sure he’s in love with you too – all he does is ask me about you – ‘How’s Daisy’ this and ‘Daisy said’ that.
“He’s just my friend – besides -”
Lucie looks at her like she’s grown another head
“Besides?” She prompts, but continues anyway “Look, I know James and I know this. Just… trust me.”
She’s got a weird glint in her eye; Cordelia’s stomach flutters in hope, but also terror.
“Lucie, if you play any part in setting me up with your brother, so help me god.”
“Too late, darling!” Lucie smiles, “Now, what are we thinking for Anna?”
11:31 P.M. ON A SATURDAY.
Cordelia is pleasantly drunk.
She’s sitting next to James. He’s dangerously close – shoulders pressed to shoulders, the ends of her hair tickle the pale skin of his arm. They’ve been thick as thieves all night – joking and laughing with each other in a way that was similar to how they used to be.
It’s different now, though.
They’re different.
She’s in the middle of whispering something about Jesse when Lucie calls her up to the corner of the room to help announce the awards. Cordelia pouts as she removes herself from her spot and James laughs – a light, good natured laugh, and Cordelia fights the urge to extend her hand – for a minute she pictures it – her arm extending, James doing the same thing – his rough, calloused fingers gracing her own dainty ones, ivory skin meeting copper.
Lucie breaks her out of her revelry with an elbow to the side. Cordelia elbows her right back.
“Hello, Ladies and Gentlemen,” Lucie begins, Cordelia joins in, “and welcome to the third annual Oskar Awards.”
“Cordelia and I will be your hosts for this evening, so don’t do anything major to piss us off. There’s still time to chuck you and your stupid trophy out the window.”
“Tonight,” Cordelia says in her best tone-deaf celebrity voice, “we’ll be celebrating all of you – all of the wonderfully stupid, lovely people in this room. The competition was tough, but you truly are the best of the worst – and for your contribution to our lives, we thank you with these cheap ass plastic trophies.”
“Without further ado…”
Lucie starts, waxing poetic about Anna without actually saying it’s Anna – only alluding to the stupid shit that she’s put up with in the name of getting everyone home safe (and in the name of getting the ladies!!).
“Winning Most Likely to Push Cordelia Carstairs out of a Moving Car – is the extraordinary Anna Lightwood!”
Anna comes up bowing and laughing, as everyone applauds and whoops. She hugs Lucy and Cordelia and offers a brief speech before sitting down.
Cordelia and Lucie alternate every other award. This is repeated, and repeated and repeated, until Cordelia is handed another trophy – she reads it.
Lucie has a shit eating grin on her face. Cordelia wants to frown at her, instead, Lucie hands her the bottle of Prosecco she’s been sipping like a psychopath. Cordelia takes it and drinks a big gulp.
“A day that will live infamy,” she begins, “Saturday, February twenty-second. The world, unfortunately, saw me at both my best and worst – but we are not here to talk about me, dear friends. No – tonight is about an upstanding gentleman who has recently come back into all of our lives, blessing us with his charm, stupid jokes, and complete inability to stand up to his sister. Tonight,” She says, raising her finger like some old-timey American politician, “is about a gentleman who found me soaking wet, clad in nothing but a DARE shirt and underwear, on the bathroom floor vomiting and proceeded to be so confused that he got roped into taking care of me. I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not.”
She pauses, looking at James who looks amused but there’s something more in his eyes too. She smiles.
“Tonight, I would like to present James Herondale with the Award of “Giver of the Sexiest Back Rubs In Completely Non-Sexualized Instances.”
Cordelia laughs as he saunters up to their makeshift stage, he hugs his sister, and hugs her as well placing a kiss on her cheek. Her face warms where his lips brush her cheeks. His honey-gold eyes meet her own deep, brown ones. He smirks – her heart clenches.
“Thank you, Miss Carstairs,” he says. She curtsies, “I’d like to thank the academy –“
“Sit down,” Matthew yells in good humor, “I haven’t gotten mine yet, and we all know you’re irrelevant.” Their friends laugh, and James grins.
“The people have spoken,” he bows.
“Move, asshole!” Matthew says loudly. James sticks his tongue out at him.
Lucie and Cordelia have three more to go, but when that’s over and they conclude their presentation and Jesse turns the music up again, she makes her way back over to the couch were James is sitting, patiently waiting for her.
“Sexiest non-sexual back rub, huh?”
“Shut up,” She smiles, gently hitting him with her elbow, “It was about the tenderness – you know – what Lucie is always droning on and on about.”
“The tenderness?”
“No one’s ever really held me like that,” she admits, not too drunk, but drunk enough to be honest, “even if I was like, in my underwear and smelled like vomit, it was nice to be cared for.”
Her hands are in her lap, but she’s looking at him, and he’s looking back at her with such an intensity that she feels like she might melt – like he’s that bucket of water in the Wizard of Oz and she’s the Wicked Witch of the West.
Except this isn’t wicked – this is good. This feels like being truly seen for the first time, like the feeling when you're about to do something stupid reckless but you know the payoff’s going to be great. It’s certainty. It’s looking at your best friend and understanding that you care for each other. It’s letting your best friend know that you love them, that you’re in love with them – that you never wished to be parted from them -
“Daisy,” he says faintly – the word a specter on his lips. His hand reaches out, grasps hers. She stands up, pulling him with her – he utters a word of protest, but she can’t hear it over Lucie, Matthew, and Jesse screaming the words to Doja Cat’s “Moo.”
She drags James into the kitchen, where it’s still noisy, but less so. The lights are off, and they stand in the reddish glow of the half-burnt out Christmas lights that hang over the kitchen window.
“Daisy,” he says her name again. Her backs up against the refrigerator, pressed against the obscene magnetic crossword they have going on. His hand comes to touch her hair, gently. He closes his eyes, then opens them, looking at her once more.
“James,” she replies in the same breathless manner.
“Grace was threatened by you,” he says, “threatened by how much I loved you – even if I wasn’t aware of how I loved you,” he pauses, “She was right to be afraid, I think.”
“When I saw you – even in the state that you were in – all curled up on the floor – DARE shirt and no pants and everything – it just all came rushing back – and I thought of being eighteen and wanting to be with you constantly, and I didn’t know it then, but I loved you. I still love you. I want to take care of you.”
“James,” she says one more time, like he’s the father, son, and holy ghost - like his name is a sacred, well-known prayer, “you must know – you must know that I love you – I’ve loved you forever – as a friend when we were very young, as a friend as we grew older, and as more than a friend as we grow older still.”
“And you have taken care of me – for as long as I’ve known you. You’ve stolen yoda bandages from your mom’s special stash for me when I’ve scraped my knees, you were kind to me when all that shit happened with my father, you’ve, just, always been there – always in my heart and in the back of my mind. Even when you were with Grace – and I wanted to hate you for picking her over me, over your friend – I still cared for you – I have cared for you all these years because I don’t know how to not care about you – I can’t think of a time when I haven’t.”
She’s crying now – honest to god tears track down her face, surely bringing down what’s left of her mascara, but she’s happy – so, so, so elated. James is here. James is listening. James loves her back.
He pulls her into a tight hug. She thinks he’s crying too. He kisses the top of her head, and she savors this feeling of being held by him – her first moments of knowing she’s loved by him in reciprocity.
He lets go of her for a second, and she leans back against the fridge again. He looks at her face tenderly, lifts his hand to trace the curve of her face.
His eyes flicker down to her lips.
“Cordelia,” he says – the name foreign but beautiful leaving his mouth, “I’m going to kiss you now.”
“Good,” she says, resolutely, with a bit of cheek.
He does. It’s light and feathery – like he’s testing it out. Like he wants to make sure he’s doing it right. Cordelia smiles against his lips, feeling like the world’s only girl, holding his cheeks in her hands and pulling him closer.
James makes a harrumph sound but doesn’t mind – he’s got one hand in her hair and the other reaches up to his own face, grabbing one of her hands and presses it against the fridge. Magnetic letters fall to the floor. Cordelia feels like she’s flying.
She’s not sure how long they stand there, just kissing like a pair of teenagers. It’s light, it’s fun – they both know there’s time for the heavy, deeper stuff later. Right now it's new – like a fledgling bird – getting ready to take off. She savors the softness, the love.
“Oh my god,” Lucie says in the doorway, clearly going to the fridge to fetch another chilled bottle of wine, “took you long enough.”
She turns around and heads back to the living room to inform their friends of the recent development. Cordelia just closes her eyes and lets James kiss the laughter from her lips.