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“I’m so glad that my Bevvie has a friend like you,” Beverly’s Father, Alvin, spoke to you from over your shoulder while you washed dishes from tonight’s dinner.
God this dude was a creep.
You turned your head and gave him a sweet smile, “I’m happy to be Bev’s friend, sir. She is something else.”
“Isn’t she?” He asks, smiling in a way that makes your spine tingle in the worst ways.
Beverly stood stiff as a board, instead of leaning against the counter like she had been before her father had entered the room. The lightheartedness of your talk with her before he entered the room completely vanished.
You knew about it, you hated it, but that is why you came by so often. He did not mess with her when you were around. And if he did, you’d probably, quite literally, burst his bubble(s).
"See, Bevvie? You don’t need those boys when you have such a sweetheart like her.” Alvin nodded towards you.
“No boyfriends, no troubles, amirite Mr. Marsh?” You joked, grinning wide. Of course, Beverly still hung out with the boys – you too, he did not need to know about that.
Beverly flushed at your words. There was usually a double meaning in most of the things you say, or at least, when you did have it – she could tell. It only made sense, since you had both been so close for so long.
“That’s right,” He chuckled. “I’ll leave you girls to your lady things. Thanks for tidying up, sweetheart.”
You cringed but kept the smile on your face. “Sure thing, Mr. Marsh.” Get bent and eat dirt, you pathetic asshole.
You waited until he left the kitchen, and you could hear the television turn up in volume. You pulled a grossed-out face, crossing your eyes and sticking your tongue sideways out of your mouth.
Beverly laughed, holding her hand over her mouth, and hiding part of her beautiful smile from your vision. Sea-green eyes alight with mischief when she sneaks back to your side, drying dishes that were already dried.
“Who needs boys, Bev?” You leaned in, voice low as a whisper. Your breath tickled the cute, short curls around her ear. “Your Dad can suck it. You’re my Bevvie now.”
She playfully smacks at your arm. You grin wickedly, biting the tip of your tongue between two canine teeth, it just poking out between your parted lips.
You finish the dishes before long, lounging back against the counter, resting on your elbows while you watch Beverly dry them, the domestics of it all making your heart skip.
Beverly blushes softly, looking up at you beneath her long lashes, smiling bashfully with her naturally red lips, “What?”
“Just admiring a work of art.” You respond cheekily.
“Oh please.”
“Bev, we’re not even in the bedroom yet.”
Her blush deepens and it looks amazing against her pale complexion and wonderfully dotted freckles that you cannot help but smile wider. “Shh!” She brings a finger up to her mouth, eyes darting back to the living room’s direction.
You roll your eyes, but nod. “Okay Bev, but you owe me.”
“Oh? What do I owe you?” She asked, smiling flirtatiously, momentarily forgetting about the asshole in the living room.
“Your undying love and affection, dear girl.” You say, borrowing one of Richie’s obnoxious posh accents.
Beverly rolled her eyes but smiled still. “You already have that.”
Your eyebrows raise, feigning shock. “Ah! Well in that case I have everything I could need.” Your lips purse, “Oh, I have an idea.”
“And what would that be?”
“You can let me get you out of this place.” Your whisper came off low and husky.
She frowned. Of course, she did, you always knew how this went down. “You know I can’t do that… not yet at least.”
You sighed. “Just one more year?”
She nodded, the frown staying on her face. Guilty, and maybe a little upset with you for bringing it up as often as you did. But you hated her being here with him.
Once you both finished the dishes, you walked past the living room, sending Mr. Marsh a fake smile – which he always bought no matter how strained it might be.
Beverly closed the door behind her, and you wasted no time to capture her lips in a passionately sweet kiss, bringing your hands up to her hips and guiding her over to her bed, sitting yourself on the edge and allowing her knees to sit on each side of your legs. Your fingers dance along the soft cotton of the shorts she wore beneath her dress, and she groans against your mouth.
“Do you promise me, Bev?” You whisper against her bottom lip, gently nibbling it between your teeth.
“What?” She asks breathlessly while burying her fingers into your hair, pulling gently at the pretty colored strands.
You fell back against the bed, feeling the edge against the bend of your knee, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her down with you. She made a surprised sound, but fell into it a moment later, finding her lips to your throat where she leaves feather soft kisses and teasing wet warmth of her tongue, touching all the perfect little spots that made your head spin.
“That when you turn eighteen, you’ll come with me.” You yourself were only just turned eighteen about a half year before. “Outta here, away from him. Can stay with me, with my folks. If not – hell, we could go the next town over. Would be a bit more of a pain to see our boys, but we could do it.”
“You know what people would say…” She whispers softly, lips hovering along the crook of your neck where it meets your jaw.
“Let them say what they want. We’ve been friends for years – most people would assume we’re just roommates.”
When she doesn’t respond, you grip her hips and twist so that you take the place of laying over her, flushing your bodies together. You run kisses up her jawline, all the way to those beautiful red lips and groan when you kiss her. “I hate him, Bev. I hate him so much.”
“I know, baby.” She whispers to you, reaching up with gentle fingers to caress your soft cheeks. “I promise.”
“Do you mean that?” You ask her, smiling down at her with so much affection it brings a blush to her face. She nods.
“God, Bev. You’re so perfect. How did I get so lucky to get such a wonderful gal like you?” You purr, bringing your lips to hers for a deep, lasting kiss.
Beverly breathlessly giggles into the kiss, her lips parting, and your tongue eases beyond them to seek out her own. You tenderly lick her mouth, and her tongue meets yours, earning a soft moan from your throat. One hand caresses her cheek, and the other slips down to her waist, digging your fingers into her hip, your touch just the slightest possessive.
Your hips raise enough for you to bunch her dress up to her waist, teasing fingers along her covered thighs and you could feel her tremble beneath them. You smirk against her lips, and it breaks the kiss, so instead you burry your nose against the side of her head, nosing through her curly locks.
Your heart swells when she sighs happily beneath you, and your hand lift back up instead to hug around her waist, the other still resting against the velvety curve of her cheek. The words leave your mouth before you even think about it, but they come out so easily, like you had been saying it forever. “I love you.”
Beverly tensed beneath you, and it only then registered to you what you said. Your eyes widened slightly, and you froze for a good second or two.
“What?” She breathed.
You sat back slowly, nervously smiling with a red blush on your face. She looked up at you with wide eyes, her own freckled face dusted with a wonderfully splendid blush. “Did I say something?” You tried to play it off, nerves rapidly twisting in your gut.
Beverly sat up against her elbows, pretty sea-green eyes meeting yours, her brow furrowed in the slightest and it was as if she were searching for something. “Yes, you did.”
You let out a shuddering exhale looking into those eyes, felt your heart lurch and warmth all over. “I said – I said I love you.”
Beverly’s lips parted in a slight gape, her brows lifting while she processes your words. Then, her face relaxes, and she gives you a blindingly bright smile, it stretches over her teeth “Promise me?” She cutely quips and reaches a delicate hand up to your chin to draw you into a new kiss, soft, sweet, marvelous.
“I promise, Bev. I promise so hard.”
“I love you too.” She murmurs against your lips, and you grin so wide your face hurts, your arms wrapping around her and you burry your face into the crook of her neck to pepper it with affectionate kisses.
“Hey Bev?” You ask against her neck, before sitting up when she hums in response, breathy and light.
“You wanna be my girlfriend?” You asked with a simper on your lips.
Her head tilts, her eyes sparkling with her smile. “Aren’t I already?”
You nod, “Yeah, I mean. Kinda. But I wanna make it all official like. So – Beverly, will you be my gal?”
Her eyes roll playfully, but both hands lift to caress the curve of your cheeks and brings your face lower to rest your forehead against hers, eyes connecting. “Of course, I will.”