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Mal stared at her girlfriend with unapologetic awe etched across the green of her irises. "I literally have no idea how you're doing that," she said, for what may or may not have been the hundredth time. She couldn't help it though, not when Evie was just so, so good at this and watching her work was proving to be a far more enjoyable use of her time than trying to help.
Evie laughed, pausing just long enough to flash Mal a smile so adoring the fairy had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling back or, worse yet, blushing . Because this just wasn't the time for that. They had work to do, after all, and gift wrapping was a serious business (Lucifer, they had a deadline and everything). Or, at least, that's what everyone kept telling her. To be honest, she didn't really see the point but then she didn't understand a lot of what the Auradon kids considered perfectly normal so she might be biased. You can take the girl out of the Isle but you can't take the Isle out of the girl and all that.
"It's really not that hard, M," she assured her, as she had every other time. "It just takes practice and a steady hand."
"Hey, my hands are plenty steady," she protested. "And I've had just as much practice as you, so, why do your presents look like they belong on display somewhere and mine look like, well... this ." She gestured disdainfully to the box in front of her.
Despite having been wrapped only a few minutes prior, it sort of looked like someone had already opened it (none too gently, either) and then tried to tape the pieces back together. While blindfolded. In the dark. With only one hand.
She scowled.
"It also takes patience," Evie said, eyes twinkling with poorly contained amusement. "Which isn't exactly your strongest suit."
Mal wished, in the vague sort of way she'd never admit to, that she could be angry with her girlfriend for being so clearly amused by her struggle. Not that there'd be much point to it; she's never been able to stay mad at Evie for more than a few minutes at time anyway. But still.
"Yeah, yeah. Rub it in, why don't you," she grumbled, slumping down in her chair and loosing a heavy breath that, to her narrow-eyed surprise, emerged in a puff of dark-gray smoke. Stupid dragon. She thought, not entirely sure whether she meant her draconic form or herself in general.
The lack of self-awareness did nothing to improve her already dour mood.
"I was just teasing, Mal," Evie said in a soft voice, unconsciously making Mal feel even worse. Because, for reasons she had yet to understand, Evie was not only extremely good at the whole 'wrapping presents' thing but also seemed to actually enjoy doing it and, now, Mal was ruining that too.
She let out a heavy sigh. "I know, E," she said quietly, glancing at the other girl from the corner of her eye only to find soulful brown eyes already on her. She looked away, shame turning her cheeks red and forcing her out of her chair. Limbs suddenly itching with the desire to be anywhere that wasn't here - 'here' meaning, 'sitting in front of rolls of obnoxiously colorful paper whose very existence seemed designed to mock and otherwise humiliate her' - she moved towards the door, steps long and as sure as she wasn't.
"Look, I'm sorry," she said. "Maybe I should just leave you alone 'til you're done. S'not like I'm really helping anyway-"
"Maleficent Bertha Aḯdēs Dracul don't you dare lay so much as a finger on that doorknob or, I swear to Lucifer, you'll regret it."
Mal froze, as much at the sound of her full name - so rarely heard, both here in Auradon and back on the Isle - as Evie's tone.
"Thank you," Evie said. "Now turn around. I refuse to do this while staring at your back and worrying you're going to bolt every time I pause to take a breath."
Slowly, like she was walking through syrup, she turned. She didn't dare meet her girlfriend's eyes though, too afraid of what she'd see, and chose to stare at her collarbone or, rather, the necklace hanging there, instead. It's a golden apple with she-doesn't-remember-how-many ruby chips inlaid and an 'E' engraved on the back. She knows because she gave it to her for Christmas the year before. They hadn't started dating, yet, but as soon as she saw it she knew Evie had to have it, that it was made just for her. She wondered - bile rising in her throat at the thought - if they'd still be together next Christmas. Because, suddenly, she wasn't entirely sure they'd make it through this one.
"We've talked about this, Mal," Evie said and her tone, the disappointment coloring her words, nearly pulled a whine from Mal's throat. "You can't just run away whenever you start having feelings about something. It isn't healthy for you and it isn't fair to me."
"...I know," she said softly. And she did know. Really. But knowing and doing weren't the same thing. And, for now, maybe for always, when it came to feelings, especially her own, her first instinct was flight over fight.
"Then talk to me. Is this really just about wrapping paper?"
Mal shook her head. Because, no, it wasn't about anything so unimportant; not even she was that emotionally stunted. No this was, unfortunately, just the latest in a seemingly never ending list of things about Auradon life that made her feel about as useful as a chimera in a china shop.
"Then what?" Evie inched closer, steps slow and careful, like Mal was a wounded animal straddling the edge between violence and escape. It was an apt comparison, she supposed. " Talk to me, M. I can't help if I don't know what's wrong."
"Me," Mal said softly, bitterly. "I'm what's wrong, E."
"Mal-"
She held up her hand. "Just let me try and get this out, okay?"
"...okay."
Mal sighed, dragging a hand through her hair, trying - and mostly failing - to find the words to explain. "You're, you're good at this," she said at last. "You're good at everything here and I'm glad, I'm so glad, for you, E, I swear I am. But I…" she clenched her teeth. "I'm not good at anything. The truth is," she licked her lips, "The truth is, I feel more lost here than I ever did on the Isle. And I don't know what to do about it."
"How-"
Mal couldn't help but flinch slightly at the naked devastation in Evie's voice, desperately hating herself for having put it there.
"How long have you felt like this?"
The word 'forever' hovered over the tip of her tongue but she swallowed it down because it wasn't true and she'd never lied to Evie before; she wasn't about to start now. The feelings weren't new, exactly, but they hadn't always been this...raw. "A while," she said at length.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
She shrugged. There were a lot of reasons, of course, but the most important was, "I didn't wanna worry you."
"Mal."
"Mal, look at me. Please."
She raised her eyes slowly, lingering on the column of Evie's throat and the shape of her jaw for as long as she dared before sinking into the depths of her red-brown eyes.
"I love you."
Mal shuddered. Because, no, it wasn't the first time Evie had said those three oh so important words but, no matter how many times she heard them, they still took her breath away. And, like always, she couldn't help feeling like she didn't quite deserve them.
"I love you," she said again, long before Mal had enough time to recover. "And I can't pretend to know everything about love but I do know that part of loving someone is worrying about them, worrying with them. So I want to worry about you, Mal; I want to worry about you for the rest of our lives."
Mal didn't even realize she was crying until she felt Evie's hands on her face, sure fingers delicately brushing the tears from her cheeks, and, despite telling herself in an ever-loudening voice to stop blubbering and get over it already, she just cried harder. She hated this, feeling exposed, feeling weak , and she wanted to run and run and never stop running but Evie was looking at her, touching her, like she was something worthy, something precious , and she couldn't quite bring herself to pull away.
"You don't have to hide from me, Mal," Evie said, beautiful brown eyes hazy with tears. "You can talk to me about anything, always. Because whatever feelings you're dealing with, whatever doubts you're having, we can deal with them. We can deal with anything, as long as we do it together."
Mal surged forward, wrapping her arms around Evie and burying her face in the crook of her neck. "I love you, E," she said, voice as broken as the rest of her, fingers digging into the back of Evie's dress.
Evie hummed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as her arms encircled her. "I love you too, Mal. Always."
Curled against her girlfriend, Mal knew it wasn't over, that they'd have to talk, really talk, about all of this, about the turmoil swirling inside her. But, for right now, this was enough. More than enough, really.
This was everything.