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William should have known better than to leave Kym stranded, and when he finally found her, his guilt was quickly justified.
She sat alone on the back porch, her small form doused in autumn skyglow. Even as the screen door shut behind him, he found she was deaf to his entrance; he could barely hear his own steps over the ambience of the party, which seeped from behind him and pooled in the cracks of weathered wood.
A still moment passed before William called her name. His voice was gentle, just shy of shattering whatever world Kym had drifted off to, and she looked up, copper finding bluestone. Her glance softened in recognition, a sun-glazed smile brightening her face.
William studied her then, as he always did, though he would never readily admit it. A messy trail of blood tracked from her nose to the bow of her lip. Her hair was tousled– more so than usual anyway– falling at her shoulder, where the black satin of her blouse faltered on pale skin. Still, she looked lovely, in that way of hers that he struggled to compare with anything else, though he didn’t dare tell her that.
Sitting on the step next to her, he gently ran a part through her hair, pushing cerulean locks back from her forehead. Kym leaned into his touch, shuffling closer.
"What happened while I was gone?"
Music flowed under the door from inside, polluting the night with the echo of a party Will hadn’t even planned on attending. Regret still settled in his stomach; accepting the invite was an awful idea, just as he knew it would be. Then again, the shame of leaving Kym to fend for herself burned much deeper, unrelenting even in the face of her subtle forgiveness.
But a smile still spanned across her mouth, stupid and graceful and pretty as ever. She moved a bare arm, rubbing at the blood that marred the stubborn curve of her rose painted lips.
"Same thing as last time," Kym laughed. William's mouth ran in a tight line as a lecture rose from his throat, his features soon softening as anger subsided once more into guilt.
"I shouldn’t have left you alone in there," he said, draping his blazer over her. “Hell, Kieran shouldn’t have invited Bella in the first place.”
Kym shrugged loosely, pulling his jacket closer to her front. “It wasn't all her fault. I know what to expect from her.” Her words flowed calmly, quietly even, and he supposed he should have expected that.
“You don’t want me to say anything to her,” William said; what would have been a question instead phrased in finality. He already knew that. He knew her; what she wanted and what she didn’t and what she was too scared to ask for.
And Kym knew him. As always, she placed meaning in the simple, laying a palm in his own and announcing, with no uncertainty, that Kieran’s colleague did not deserve the effort. “Besides, there’s only so much time in a night,” she said, something so utterly her hiding in a tipsy grin. “What shall we do with it?”
William sent a glance back to the house, full of drunken dancers and hopeless romantics, all wishing for someone to hold. There was, after all, a reason he felt out of place with them. He had her to dance with, had her to hold, if only he were to ask. And so he made his decision in full confidence.
“We should leave.”
“Obviously,” Kym snickered, holding her hands up to him as he rose from the porch. William pulled her up after him, a light laugh escaping him as she stumbled onto the lawn behind him.
They made their way around the house, bounding from the dewy grass onto the pavement. Kym ran a hand along Lauren’s car, then Kieran’s, giggling the whole way. Will couldn’t help but laugh with her as he reached his sedan, listening with a lovesick grin as their mirth echoed through the chill of autumn.
The door slammed behind him, halting his laughter. From the sudden quiet, a familiar feeling rose in him, pooling at the back of his throat and refusing to remain unacknowledged any longer.
After all, Kym was right; there was only so much time. She would give up on him some day, a gold-tinted promise melting back into shadow.
William's hands tightened around the steering wheel. He wanted to tell the truth, though he wasn’t entirely sure how to say it, and the angel next to him wasn’t helping. He tilted his head, catching Kym’s eyes.
"You still have blood on your face," he said, his phrasing much less eloquent than he had hoped. Kym laughed, a hint of embarrassment blooming across her pale skin. "Does it hurt?"
She brought a hand to her face, carefully rolling back the sleeve of his blazer. "My nose, you mean?"
“‘Yeah,” Will nodded, tearing his eyes from the smudged gloss at the corner of her lip. She really was very pretty, though Kym interrupted him before he could say so. His stomach turned as he swallowed the thought.
"It's not awful," Kym shrugged. "Why do you ask? Are you worried?"
Will smiled at her teasing, for once, and reached across the arm rest. "Maybe I am," he whispered, ghosting his thumb over her rouged grin before taking her cool hand in his. “I… I don’t like seeing you hurt.” Silently pressing a kiss against her palm, he let himself bask in the look she gave him. “I care about you. A lot.”
Panic flooded through William then, jolting him awake and pulling him back to the steering wheel. Kym sat frozen, her lashes resting lightly against flushed cheeks. Fear spread through him like a poison; he never should have gotten that close, never should have stepped on such faulty ground. She would hate him now. She would loathe him for mistaking the nature of their turbulent friendship, fear him for taking advantage.
There was no time to remind himself that Kym would never leave, and he bit back his words as her eyes opened to look at him.
Wherever her honey gaze landed, whatever molten emotion she now exuded, Will didn't wait to see, instead starting the car in hopes she hadn't even heard him. He stared at the night-varnished road, hands shaking around his keys.
He didn’t know how to fix his mistake.
But before he could apologize, her petite fingers laced through his, and a soft hum brought his slate eyes spiraling back to hers.
“I care about you too, you dolt.” William flushed, heat rising to his face once again. “I thought you knew that.”
Truthfully, he did. He knew that they both cared, more so than they felt worthy of admitting, stubborn fools that they were. There was a trusting silence between them, forged in fear and denial, and he had broken that. Then again, it was suddenly all too obvious that Kym was happy he had.
Too tongue-tied to say much, Will settled for a smile, simplicity once more steeped in meaning. Fingers still twined through his, Kym grinned back, leaning her head against the window to hide the pink painting her cheeks.
“Take me home, Willame,” she groaned, barely holding back a laugh.
“Anything for you, Ladell.”
And that's really all there was to it.