Archive of Our Own ^beta

Mal promised herself that she wouldn't forget.

Not the lips red as the rose blooming with a smile all for her, a smile that filled Mal's heart with the warmest of floods. Not the voice like autumn leaves ghosting along the sidewalk on the softest of breezes. Not the eyes like deep chocolate, the most decadent in all of Auradon. Mal promised herself she wouldn't forget as the graduation caps were tossed, as the grassy lawn of Auradon Prep filled with cheers and claps and laughter and cries.

Everyone else told her she would, everyone who thought themselves smarter and wiser. They let Mal in on the painful secret that it didn't matter how deep or true you thought a bond was; when high school was over, so was it. Mal shut out the naysayers, knew deep in her heart that she and Evie were far, far different than anyone they'd ever seen before. She and Evie had been through it all, from friends to best friends to girlfriends, and no way would the silly ritualistic end of secondary education take that away from them. Their relationship had survived hell, magic, and monsters. It would survive whatever came next, too. Mal was sure of it.

She may have faltered a bit when Evie cried, when Evie sat her down with tears in her eyes and explained that Cinderellasburg was just too far, that she'd be too busy attending college in the kingdom's fashion capital, that she just didn't think a long distance relationship would work. Yes, Mal faltered for a moment, but she quickly picked herself back up. This was Evie they were talking about, her Evie. So Mal wiped away the tears, both her own and her best friend's, and smiled the purest smile as she assured Evie it would all be okay.

So they wouldn't be together every day as they went off to different colleges. It wasn't an eternity, it was only four years. And four years to Mal and Evie's bond of true love was like a drop in the bucket, they could do that standing on their heads. They'd be apart, and they'd learn, and grow on top of everything else they did, but four years later they would come back to each other and pick up right where they'd left off.

No, they couldn't go on dates, not miles and miles from one another, but still they would belong to each other. They would call, and they'd text; heck, maybe they'd get a little whimsical and write letters here and there. Spring breaks and winter breaks and long weekends would have them meeting up to hold each other close for the short time they were able to, to see each other's faces and indulge in each other's smiles where selfies and video chats just couldn't cut it. They would spend time apart, but it wouldn't be an eternity.

So when the caps were thrown, the bags were packed, and Mal helped load all the things into Evie's car, she promised herself. She wouldn't forget the smile, the voice, or the eyes. When they shared in one last kiss, Mal promised to remember how Evie was her everything, and with a loving smile, Evie made the same promise back to her. They were Mal and Evie, always had been, always would be.

It wasn't a goodbye as Evie finally slipped behind the wheel and started the car, and it wasn't even a goodbye when she drove off down the road, Mal waving a hand that was soaked from clearing her tears so nothing would stop her from watching Evie's car rumble away until it disappeared from sight and she could watch it no more. There were never any goodbyes between them. This? This was simply a "See you later".

Mal promised herself that she wouldn't forget Evie.

Everyone else told her she would, everyone who thought themselves smarter and wiser.

Little did Mal know then, holding steadfast to that promise with all her heart, that everyone else would be absolutely right.

It didn't matter that Mal had been coming here for years now, sometimes she was still tickled by the irony of it. A snowman running an ice cream truck or a frozen yogurt parlor, sure, that she could understand. But a snowman running a bakery, ducking roasting hot ovens day in and day out? It was hilarious, if not a little morbid, but it made him happy, so Mal never said anything.

"Mal!!"

The jingling bell above the open door signaled her arrival.

"Morning Olaf," she waved at him.

The place was bustling on an almost-frantically busy Friday morning, but Olaf had Snowgies to spare, hopping and leaping all over on their little powdered feet to help out. Olaf, being the only one of them with, well, arms, tended to run the register during the busy hours, but right now that didn't stop him from handing over the reins to a cluster of Snowgies (it would take four or five of them) and bouncing down from the counter to bound over to Mal and have a little chit-chat.

"I saved your favorite, Mal. A strawberry Danish! Come on, come on, pull up a chair!"

It was a wonder there was even a chair to pull up in the crowded dining area.

"No, Olaf, no time for pulling up chairs. I have to be at the studio, I'm practically late already," Mal fretted over the time with a glance at her phone. "I really shouldn't even be stopping for a to-go."

"Not even a little time?" Olaf tried to entice her with his bucktoothed smile.

He almost succeeded, it wasn't like Mal could easily say no to that bouncing ball of snow, but she had to get to work.

"Tomorrow, Olaf. I promise."

The bakery was filling even more by the second, hungry morning customers rushing in to eye the pastries and goodies on the shelves and stands. Out of the corner of her eye Mal could see Snowgies darting this way and that, working themselves silly. Well, sillier. Mal almost had to fight her way through the throng to reach the front counter, knowing exactly what she wanted and not needing to browse. Olaf was right behind her when they got up front and saw the Snowgies at the register had suddenly been replaced with a hulking, horrifying creature.

"Hey Marshmallow," Mal said easily. "Just the usual."

The snow monster opened his icy jaws and uttered a drawling series of menacing growls.

"What do you mean you're out of strawberry Danishes?" Mal frowned.

"No no no no no," Olaf climbed onto one of the stools tucked by the counter. "We saved one for Mal, remember?"

Marshmallow grunted. A tower of Snowgies stacked like pancakes lifted up an empty platter speckled with crumbs as proof. Mal's face fell.

"You sold the last one?" she realized, stifling a hurt gasp.

Olaf couldn't stifle his, stick hands smushing his snowy cheeks in shock and squishing his entire head in the process.

"We'll bake more!" he said right away, jumping down from the stool and scurrying back behind the counter.

Mal's stomach betrayed her with a grumble.

"...No, that's okay," she sighed. "I can't be late for work, Olaf. I'll just eat at lunchtime."

"You won't be late!" Olaf insisted. "We'll just turn up the ovens twice as hot and the pastries will bake twice as fast!"

"Okay, one, that's not how it works. And two—"

"...How about that. After all this time you still like strawberry, huh?"

Someone spoke close behind Mal. And something tugged at what felt like her memories, but she couldn't exactly be sure where she had stored away the sound of that voice. It was vaguely familiar, but...where did she know it from? Work? An old art school classmate? She couldn't quite place it with any amount of certainty.

Olaf's eyes popping out of his head (not literally) should have been clue enough, but Mal was never good at guessing games, and she had to turn around to get her answer. Marshmallow pointed an icicle finger with one single rumbling growl as she did, telling Mal that that was who the last Danish had just been sold to.

"...Evie?"

The bakery was packed practically to the rafters with people, but Mal suddenly felt like there were only two.

"...Hi, Mal."

Mal spoke the name, suddenly remembered that face, but still didn't really feel like she recognized her, even though seven years had barely changed her. Those same shining eyes and the same enchanting smile—a bit shy and subdued at the moment—but the same nonetheless. The same hair waterfalling down past her shoulders in the softest of waves...if Mal had to hazard a guess, Evie was wearing it a little longer, but she couldn't really tell for sure.

Olaf had quickly clambered his way onto the countertop to reach out and curl his twig fingers around the hem of Mal's black jean jacket, tugging urgently.

"Mal! Mal!!" he harshly whispered in her ear. "That's one of the VKs! That's Evie!"

As if Mal hadn't just incredulously said her name out loud.

"I can see that, Olaf," Mal wrenched herself free with a jerk of her shoulder.

"Didn't you guys used to be friends??"

Mal didn't have quite so quick a response to that one.

...Didn't they?

As if with the click of a switch, it all came rushing back. Flooding back. A tidal wave of time and memory threatening to sideswipe Mal right off of her feet.

She and Evie hadn't been just friends, they were once the loves of each other's lives.

Mal had utterly forgotten.

The end didn't come all at once, it arrived with a crawling slowness that would've been agonizing if either girl had even realized it was happening. Evie would miss Mal's texts for days at a time as they got lost in the flood of texts from classmates, professors, new and old clients of Evie's 4 Hearts. Mal would miss Evie's calls as she left her phone on silent and far away from her for hours while she sketched, painted, kept her focus to fill commissions and her own personal portfolio. Evie's chance to design a piece for an illustrious collection stopped her from meeting with Mal over a long weekend. Mal's paid internship at an animation studio kept her busy all through a spring break and beyond.

There were never any goodbyes between Mal and Evie, and this time had been no different. There was no goodbye, or even a "See you later". They'd simply just...stopped.

Mal's mind did a remarkable job of processing the last seven years and then moving right along, zipping into a conversation so quickly that not even a hint of an awkward silence had a chance to creep in.

"Geez, it's been forever," Mal laughed for lack of a better reaction at suddenly seeing the girl she'd forgotten existed, standing right in front of her with the last strawberry Danish, no less.

"It really has," the shy smile Evie wore began to brighten.

They came forward and hugged one another, an automatic and reflexive action—rather robotic, truth be told.

"How have you been?" Mal asked when they let each other go. A question just as automatic and reflexive as their hug. "Robotic" was indeed the better term.

"Pretty good," Evie said, following the script. "You?"

"I've been alright," Mal shrugged.

Now an awkward silence fell for a moment. Sharp despite its briefness, jarring to realize one could find absolutely nothing to say. It was as if the girls had never once been close at all.

"...So what are you doing here in Auradon City?" Mal eventually went on. "I thought you were more or less going to stay in Cinderellasburg."

She honestly had no idea what Evie had been up to. Studying in Cinderellasburg was as far as she ever got.

"Well, I'm an editor for a fashion magazine now," Evie proudly told her. "It's not my dream of being a designer, but it's still amazing. In Cinderellasburg I was with a magazine called Le Chariot, but I'm back in the city now because Midnight offered me a job."

"Wow, Midnight? Even I've heard of that. Everyone and their snooty grandma reads that. Wait, so you're like, back back?"

"For as long as Midnight will have me," Evie happily said.

Mal would have said more, but her phone buzzing in her pocket—probably her supervisor texting to ask where in the heck she was—cut her short.

"Evie, I'd love to play catch up, but I have to get to work," she said quickly, making to dart away.

"Oh, yeah. Me too," Evie nodded, herself suddenly looking to hurry off.

"Psst! Mal! Psssst!" Olaf whispered loud enough for the whole bustling bakery to hear him. "Invite Evie here after work. I'll make Danishes!"

Both women turned to stare blankly at him.

"I'm sure she's busy, Olaf," Mal sternly told the snowman, a bit perturbed to find him butting in.

"I'm not busy," Evie helpfully said. "Still unpacking, actually, and putting it off way more than I should. Not much to do at my apartment until I get settled."

Mal looked to her phone for the time. Half past definitely-running-late.

"Alright, well, if everything goes smoothly today, I'm off around six," she said, looking to Evie while her feet were just itching to take off. "We can meet here for...I don't know what Olaf considers it, early dessert maybe? I can text you when I'm about to head this way."

The words slipped out without very much thought, so much so that a distracted Mal almost didn't even realize and almost left without catching herself.

"Oh, wait...I actually don't have your phone number anymore."

Mal felt shame admitting it out loud, although she wasn't sure why. What was the shame in not having the number of someone you hadn't spoken to in years? Evie, on the other hand, didn't appear the least bit bothered by Mal's revelation.

"It's actually changed since Auradon Prep anyway, the old one wouldn't do you much good even if you did still have it."

Mal got Evie's new number. Planned to meet her after work to chat over Olaf's pastries. Hurried out the door with a literal "See you later". And in spite of her rush to get to the studio, found herself wasting time by coming to a stop halfway down the sidewalk and looking over Evie's number in her phone.

"Evie", the contact screen said, with a blank gray circle where a picture should be. Once upon a time it had been "My E" with a little blue heart and a crown next to the name. A picture of the girls together with Mal pressing a kiss to a beaming Evie's cheek instead of an empty gray circle with no happy faces. Mal didn't even remember deleting her number. When the calls and texts had ceased for well over a year, she of course had no need to let it clutter her contact list anymore, but...Mal didn't remember ever consciously going through the motions to delete it.

So that was Evie. Evie who hadn't changed a bit. Mal wondered if she had changed at all, if she was different in Evie's eyes. It boggled her mind; seven years ago she used to hold Evie in her arms, and now she could barely hold a conversation. Time was a vicious thing, but it wasn't entirely to blame. She and Evie just drifted apart. Apart and away. There really wasn't any blame to be placed at all, it was just like everyone had warned them—when high school ended, so would they.

Mal didn't have any regrets. They were just kids back then, enchanted by each other and by Auradon, blindly optimistic and reaching for a happy ending entirely too far away on the horizon. But Mal was older now, twenty-five years old and part of that same smarter and wiser crowd that told her she was a fool in the first place for believing the fairytale that she and Evie would weather any storm. They were both adults, and spending an evening catching up before once again going their own separate ways was a very adult thing to do. In another seven or so years they'd probably be doing the exact same thing. One of the many tediums of adulthood.

Bills, taxes, ten hour workdays, catching up, small talk.

She really wished she'd had that Danish.

Olaf's bakery was an entirely different place on a Friday evening, as opposed to the hectic Friday morning where Mal never would have even run across Evie if the strawberry Danishes had been better stocked. The dining area was almost bare, just Mal and Evie, a handful of others, and Snowgies skittering across the floor. When Mal finally got Olaf to just drop off the pastries and stop checking up on them, she and Evie fell into conversation, less awkward than it had been that morning. Still a little forced, but it was progress.

"Mal, I've heard that Olaf doesn't exactly get the concept of heat, but you've really never said anything to him about owning a bakery?" Evie giggled.

While Mal indulged in the part of adulthood that meant no one could stop her from eating dessert for dinner, Evie sat across from her with a chocolatey croissant. Perfectly Evie in every way.

"Well, he hasn't melted yet. So already he's doing way better than I ever would've given him credit for," Mal explained with a smile. "But he and the Snowgies are good at what they do. The place acts partly as a sit-down café now because those little snowmen couldn't keep people away."

"You've been coming here a while, haven't you?"

"Ever since graduating from art school. If not for breakfast then at least to say hi, it's already on my way to work."

Talk became even less awkward and even less forced as they went on, as the minutes passed into minutes more.

"Wow, you're an animator??" Evie's eyes lit up excitedly as Mal began to talk about herself.

"I had an internship at a studio a few years back that I took for some extra money," Mal spoke, completely forgetting that she'd already told Evie all about this back in the day. "They liked having me, after the internship was over they said I should give them a call when I graduated. I just sort of fell into it and got stuck there for a lot longer than I meant to."

"Don't you like your job?" Evie frowned.

"Not really," Mal answered with a defeated laugh. "I get to draw a little, but most of it is just sitting at a computer scrubbing through frames. I don't hate it, but it's not what I want to do. I don't actually know what I want to do, but I know it isn't this. You always knew what you wanted to do with your life though, Evie. You went right for it after Auradon Prep."

Went for it she did.

"Well, I'm not there yet either, remember? My own clothing line is nowhere near a reality. The closest I came was running Evie's 4 Hearts at Auradon Prep and for a bit during college, but soon enough I couldn't keep up with it. I had to stop."

Evie's gaze was far away for a second as she reminisced, but she quickly focused back on Mal.

"Now ever since I've been working with the magazines I don't have much time to design on my own anymore, or even attempt to bring Evie's 4 Hearts back to life. If my sketchbook and my sewing machine weren't still packed away in boxes you'd see a frightening layer of dust on them. But dream jobs take a while, that's what makes them dreams," Evie wisely said.

"...You sound exactly the same," Mal realized.

"Why wouldn't I?"

Evie laughed exactly the same too. Mal shrugged, distractedly spinning her now-empty plate around in front of her.

"It's just been so long, I thought you might have changed somehow," she explained. "I mean, we grew up. This isn't Auradon Prep anymore. We're different people now."

"You're not different," Evie said right away.

Said with a voice like autumn leaves ghosting along the sidewalk on the softest of breezes. A voice Mal had long since forgotten.

"Soo, how's it going?" a grinning Olaf ambled over again on his stubby little legs, his head just barely poking over the top of the table.

Mal fought the desperate need to roll her eyes at the snowman's interference.

"It's going, Olaf," she flatly said.

"Can I get you ladies anything? More coffee? Another Danish? Relaxing candlelight?"

"Scram, snowball," it may have been forever since Mal's eyes flashed with mystical green fire, but they could still glare daggers in a non-literal sense.

The ever-sunny Olaf wasn't bothered in the slightest, scuttling away with a chuckle. But Mal wasn't listening to his laughter, she was listening to Evie's.

"No, Mal, you haven't changed a bit," Evie giggled with a sip of her coffee. "When I moved back to the city I didn't even know you were still here, I never would've thought to get in touch. But I'm glad I ran into you this morning."

"I'm glad too. Not glad you stole my Danish, but..."

"Paid for fair and square," Evie corrected with a sly grin.

Alright, so Mal had bills, and taxes, and ten hour workdays. But Evie? Turned out that reuniting with Evie was not a tedium of adulthood, and if early dessert kept going the way it was going, Mal imagined she might actually look forward to the next get-together in seven more years. But seven more years would have to wait, because the two were here now, still with so much more conversation to be had.

Mal asked how college had gone, and Evie called it the best four years of her life. The things she learned, the fashion she lived and breathed, the friends she made—many of whom she still kept in touch with. The same way she and Mal had meant to stay in touch after Auradon Prep. The subject about friends in turn had led her to ask about Jay and Carlos, who she also hadn't seen ever since tossing her graduation cap and going off to Cinderellasburg.

"Carlos actually won't be sticking around for much longer. There's an up-and-coming inventor in Corona, some guy named Varian, and Carlos is going to try working with him," Mal said.

"Wow, that is amazing..."

"I still see him all the time, though. Him and Jay. But Jay's been traveling with his Tourney team for the last few months, it's the on season and they've got matches all over Auradon."

The wistful smile Evie wore as she sat and talked with Mal slowly started to disappear.

"...It looks like I'm the only one you've lost touch with," Evie quietly realized.

Her voice was soft, so soft. Mal recalled a time when that same soft voice would whisper "I love you" into her ear every night, with Evie snuggled close beside her in bed and not a care in the world held by either of them.

"Well, you're back home now. You don't have to be a stranger," Mal gently told her. "I know we're both busy, with really different lives now, but we can still get together every once in a while. At the very least, we can meet up again for some of Olaf's cupcakes, because you have not lived until you've tried those things."

"Did somebody say cupcakes?" Olaf sprang up out of nowhere like a jack-in-the-box, armed with a tray of said confectionary creations.

Mal couldn't even be annoyed with him anymore. Olaf's appearances kept bringing smiles and laughter out of Evie, things that Mal was coming to understand she had sorely missed.

"You're very sweet, Olaf," Evie kindly said, helping herself to a cupcake.

Mal did the same, and Olaf hurried off with a skip in his step just as quickly as he'd appeared. The pair talked some more, as there was still so much more to be said to each other, and at some point or another there came a moment where not a single syllable of conversation was forced at all. They didn't realize they'd been lost in talk for hours, even past closing time, for Olaf didn't oblige to tell them.

The bakery had cleared out save for the two, and Olaf had simply scattered Marshmallow and the Snowgies into the back to clean up there while Mal and Evie had the café to themselves. Only when Evie glanced up from Mal's eyes at some point in the evening did she see the emptiness around them, the chairs stacked on tables, Olaf sweeping by the front door.

"...Looks like we've been here a while, M."

M.

A name Mal hadn't heard in absolutely forever.

She blinked her focus away from Evie and back to reality like she was coming out from under a spell. Glancing over her shoulder showed her just how dark it was outside the windows, and how the glowing "Open" sign above the shop door had been clicked off without her knowing.

"Looks like we have. Sorry E, I didn't mean to keep you."

E.

A name Mal hadn't used in absolutely forever.

"You kept me from having to dig through a tower of boxes all night, so thank you," Evie said.

"They'll still be there tomorrow, though."

"Yes, but between having to unpack and having dessert, guess which one I'd rather do?"

Mal laughed and stood up from the table; Evie did the same.

"It was nice to see you today, Evie," Mal bowed her head a little.

"Really nice. I'm glad we could catch up."

"And I'm glad you've been doing okay."

Lips red as the rose blooming with a smile all for Mal.

"We should meet up again sometime," Evie said eagerly.

"Definitely. I have your number, and now you have mine."

"That I do. Well, goodnight Mal."

They hugged for the second time that day, but this one felt more real, less stiff and cautious. Then Evie was gone, out the door and into her car sitting in the parking lot. And only when they were apart again did Mal realize one thing.

In all their talk over the last two and a half hours, all the conversation about the past seven years of their lives and the filling in of the blanks, not once did one of them ask the other if they were seeing anybody. Maybe they just didn't think to ask. Maybe they didn't want to ask.

Olaf, after holding the door open for Evie to leave, leaned his broom against a wall and started into the dining area. Mal heard the snow of his feet crunching on the floor with each step.

"...You guys weren't just friends, were you?" he softly asked, coming to a stop beside Mal and gazing up a little sadly at the unreadable expression on her face.

Mal didn't answer right away. She was staring out the shop windows, watching Evie's car roar to life, lights and all, before it drove off down the street and disappeared around a corner.

The same way she'd watched it disappear long ago on the last day at Auradon Prep.

"...No, Olaf," she sighed heavily. "We weren't just friends."

The little snowman brightened.

"Y'know, I'm—"

"Don't tell me you're a love expert," Mal interrupted with a sad and defeated laugh. "We don't need one, buddy. Evie and I were a long time ago, we've moved on. Trust me, there's nothing like that between us anymore."

Her words said one thing. The dull pangs in her chest as Evie drove out of her life once more thought another.

And behind the wheel, making the way across town towards home with the city lights zipping by around her, Evie's head spun. Her heart sang. And fluttered, and somersaulted, and did a variety of other acrobatic tricks.

Mal. Just the same as she'd remembered her. Dazzling eyes, damnable grin, and an endearing charm all her own. Evie promised herself she would never forget Mal when she left Auradon Prep and an old chapter in her life behind, and Evie had lied. She did forget Mal in mountains of homework, and a sea of designs, and waves of the real world just pummeling her one after the other without cease. And it was obvious that Mal had forgotten her too, but that was just life, plain and simple. Life tore people apart, it was what it did.

And as Mal and Evie went their separate ways that evening, with thoughts buzzing and hearts thudding in anticipation of the next time they could see each other, it seemed that life may very well have been beginning to change its tune.

It was two weeks before Mal heard from Evie again, but it wasn't as if she were some heartsick kid sitting and waiting anxiously by her phone. She had work to concern herself with, important things to do, and when Evie's name was glinting across her phone on a Friday afternoon it struck her then just how quickly and easily they'd once again fallen out of touch. For that whole two weeks had passed without a call, without a text, and with only idle thoughts of Evie here and there as Mal doodled at her desk at work or relaxed in front of her tv after a long day.

Evie didn't know Mal's schedule, and had texted first to ask if it was okay to call. Mal beat her to it, sitting at her computer at home and calling Evie herself.

"Hi Mal," Evie greeted. Mal could hear a smile in her voice. "Not working?"

"Not at the studio, no. I work from home today."

"Oh, so you're busy."

Mal heard the smile falter just as easily as she heard it beam.

"No, Evie, what's up?"

"Nothing, I just thought I'd say hello. It's been awhile. Oh, and I'm all unpacked!"

"Really? Even after all that procrastinating?"

"Truth be told, I left a lot in Cinderellasburg and didn't bring much with me, so despite the procrastination it didn't take quite so long to get settled in."

Evie had left a lot behind in Cinderellasburg. It made Mal wonder if this move to Auradon City was really as long-term as Evie made it out to be.

"Sounds like you should celebrate with coffee and cupcakes," Mal said.

It was like she could see Evie's face lighting up right in front of her.

"I was hoping you'd say that," she giggled. "And hoping you'd join me, too."

Mal as an adult was a lot more practical and rational than Mal as a headstrong teenager at Auradon Prep. She knew her Saturday at the studio tomorrow was going to be worlds rougher if she didn't sit her butt in a chair and work on the scene waiting impatiently on the screen in front of her. She couldn't afford to spend her time indulging in dessert and chit-chat right now.

"You think I'm going to stay home and let you have Olaf's cupcakes without me?" she playfully demanded.

Alright, fine. So maybe some days she just wasn't as practical and rational as she thought she was.

"My workday is almost over," Evie told her. "Meet you in an hour and a half?"

"I'll be there."

And Mal was, walking into the bakery to find Evie at a table by the window, already being waited on hand and foot by Olaf.

"Hey guys."

"Mal!" Olaf beamed.

"Hi," Evie smiled her incomparable smile.

Mal draped her jacket over the back of her chair, and Olaf whizzed off to start baking fresh treats for them.

"So, all moved in, huh?" Mal started up the conversation, a much easier thing to do this second time around at the bakery.

"Yes!" Evie nodded excitedly. "It's the cutest little loft, and it doesn't exactly feel like home yet, but at least with all my things unpacked it's getting there. The first thing I did was set up all my sewing stuff, layers of dust and all. I may not have the time to design, but I just couldn't help it."

"I know the feeling. All I ever do is work on a show for the studio, I can't remember when the last time I opened a sketchbook was. I still draw here and there, but it's all for rough animation and mainly on a tablet. I don't really do good old-fashioned pencil and paper work for myself anymore," Mal said. "But how's your work going? What's happening over at Midnight?"

It made Evie happy to hear that Mal had remembered.

"It's great, it's just like being at the magazine in Cinderellasburg. So far everyone I've met at Midnight treats me like I've been there all along. There's nothing to re-learn, no stumbling around like a newbie."

Mal laughed.

"I don't think you've ever once stumbled around when it comes to fashion."

"Oh, there was stumbling in the very beginning. Fashion or no fashion, designing clothes and editing articles are two very different things. But I appreciate your confidence in me," Evie took the subtle compliment with a bashful smile. "And being back in Auradon City to work is wonderful. Everything is almost exactly how it was when I left."

"Well, you know how these kingdoms are with tradition. It makes sense that nothing would change."

"Not even you," Evie proudly said.

"And not even you," Mal said right back.

Mal hadn't changed, and Evie hadn't changed. But "Mal and Evie" had.

"...What do you think about a housewarming party?" Evie suddenly asked. "You, me, Jay, and Carlos."

"Oh, that's..." Mal really wasn't sure how she felt about all four VKs reuniting after all this time. "I mean, Carlos is busy getting ready to move to a whole other country, and I don't even know when Jay comes back to town."

"So we'll ask!" Evie cheerily suggested. "You have his number, right?"

"Yeah."

Evie was looking expectantly at her.

"...You mean right now?" Mal wondered.

Evie realized then how she was staring, and shook herself out of it with an embarrassed little laugh.

"Oh, no, sorry M. I was just..."

Lost in her thoughts. And Mal's eyes.

"I just meant whenever," Evie quickly said.

"Well, either way, it's not much of a party with just four people," Mal teased.

"I could always invite Olaf," Evie teased back. "It's just, if I'm going to turn a house into a home, there's no one else I want to help me do that more than you guys. We were inseparable on the Isle of the Lost, and we were inseparable at Auradon Prep. I hate that life tore us apart the way it did."

Mal was beginning to feel the same. But with Jay and Carlos still constantly in her life, she certainly had a different "us" in mind. And she really didn't even want to think about how these bakery visits were starting to remind her of their lunch dates back in high school. The two of them sitting across from each other, making each other laugh and smile...Mal's hand sneaking across the table to capture Evie's and hold it tight. Now, Mal kept her hands squarely on her own side of the table, picking distractedly at the paper wrapper of her cupcake after Olaf brought out a tray of them.

So once again they ate together, talked together, whiled away an afternoon until Evie decided to head home. Hugs were again the order of business when Evie left, hugs and promises to get together soon without leaving an entire two weeks lingering between them. Mal hung back after Evie walked out, sitting down once more at their table and watching her drive off through the window before she turned to face the jacket hanging over the chair and fished her phone from one of the pockets.

Jay must have been busy, or distracted, for he obviously didn't look to see who was calling, his voice sounding in Mal's ear with a questioning "Hello?"

"Hey, it's Mal."

"Hey! Haven't heard from you since the team left! So what's it like there without me?"

"Quieter," Mal answered with a smug smirk. "You'll never guess who's back in town."

"Your mom?" Jay joked.

Mal could hear him trying to keep in a snicker.

"You're hilarious," Mal rolled her eyes. "It's Evie. She's moved back to Auradon City."

Suddenly Jay went silent, anything but joking.

"Oh, wow...you've seen her?"

"Twice. We've been catching up at Olaf's."

"...Dang. Sorry Mal, that sounds brutal."

Jay couldn't offer up a better word. He knew all about Mal and Evie's unceremonious split, the break up that wasn't even a break up. All he could imagine was how painful and awkward reuniting now must have been for Mal. All he could do was feel sorry for his friend.

"No, it's...it's actually been nice," Mal corrected with a wistful sigh. "It was weird at first, it seriously was, but...she's still Evie. She's still exactly the same as she was on that very last day at Auradon Prep. Her laugh, her smile, that warm glow in her eyes..."

Jay went silent for another moment more.

"...Don't tell me you still have feelings for her," he almost seemed to plead, flashing warning lights going off at the sappy tone of Mal's voice.

"What?? Of course not, don't be stupid," Mal denied. "There's all this time between us and we've been together twice. It's just that nothing feels that different anymore. It did at first, but then we got to talking...and by the end of the night everything was starting to feel familiar again. It's nice to think that maybe I'll get an old friend back."

An old friend. Mal and Jay were the old friends, he had known her and stood by her side long before Evie ever did. And he cared and worried about Mal in ways that Evie never could, a protective and brotherly bond that had him concerned for what Mal might be getting herself into despite her words of denial.

"So you've only talked with her twice. Can you really be sure she's still the same? She's grown up with this whole other life that you know nothing about outside of a few conversations. What if she's seeing someone? What if she's married??"

"She's not wearing a ring," Mal smugly retorted.

"Okay, but what if she's still seeing someone?"

"What does it matter?" Mal questioned.

"Mal, get real. Even on the Isle of the Lost you and Evie were hardly ever 'just friends'. If you let her back into your life how long is it gonna be before you fall again? Like I said, she's got a whole other life. You say nothing's different, but what if you're wrong? I don't want to sit and watch you fall for someone who isn't gonna fall for you."

Mal's smugness escaped her. It was one thing to let herself think such things, but it was something else entirely to have Jay say them out loud. Like whispering a secret versus someone blaring it over a loudspeaker. It had been entirely too long, how could she believe she could possibly let herself stumble headfirst into feelings for Evie again? It didn't seem at all plausible, but darned if Jay didn't sell the idea like his father sold cheap Isle trinkets at double the price.

A subject change was Mal's only salvation.

"Look, she's all moved in and she wants us all to get together at her place. A housewarming kind of thing. You, me, and Carlos. I said I'd ask when you were coming home."

"We'll be back next week, Mal."

"And with Carlos heading to Corona soon, yeah, it does sound nice for all of us to get together one last time."

"The Rotten Four," a smile had returned to Jay's voice. "...Okay then. Next week. Count me in."

Jay eventually saw for himself that Mal had been speaking the truth. It was just like they were kids again, like no time had escaped them at all.

There was laughter, so much laughter that it was as if the little loft would burst with it. Jay showed off his newer Tourney maneuvers to Evie with Carlos as his practice dummy, flipping him to the floor and tackling him onto the couch while both Mal and Evie couldn't stop laughing at the wide-eyed look of panic on Carlos' face everytime Jay came charging.

Then they sat and reminisced over Auradon Prep for a little while before Mal switched the conversation back to the present day and filled Evie in on some of Carlos' more hilarious science mishaps, complete with embarrassing pictures on her phone of his singed eyebrows from a day of tinkering with a supercomputer gone wrong. Jay wrenching an arm around Carlos' head to give him a noogie and a hard time was a familiar sight, one that Evie delighted to see.

And even when they settled down as the night went on, acted more their age, it was still just like they were the Rotten Four again as they sat around on the floor and leaned back comfortably against the couch, staying shoulder to shoulder just talking and catching up without a care in the world.

"Corona is such a long way away, Carlos," Evie said to him. "I think you'll miss us too much."

"Of course I will. I already missed you a ton, Evie. Now you're back, and I'm the one who's leaving," although bittersweet, Carlos had to laugh at the irony of it.

"But when Evie's a big shot designer she'll be traveling all over, including Corona. You think Rapunzel won't want an Evie original? You'll see her all the time down there," Jay gave Carlos a teasing shove.

"We're all together here, and now. That's what really matters," Evie said. "Maybe sometimes we'll be apart for a while—like for seven whole years—but this right here is proof that we'll come back to each other."

"...Because we're rotten," Mal said with a sly smirk.

"To the core," the other three automatically chorused, descending into another round of laughter at how reflexively it still came to them.

They stayed together well after midnight, time having no power anymore where friendship was concerned. Evie didn't want to say goodbye when it was finally all over, when she saw Jay and Carlos out to the parking lot of her apartment complex and sent them off with the biggest hugs before heading back inside with Mal, who could afford to linger a little bit longer. They moved to the kitchen, where Evie bagged up the leftover slices of pizza they'd all been eating so that Mal—working her late nights both at the studio and at home—wouldn't have to scrounge for something to eat later on in the week.

"...None of us have changed," Evie noted with a wistful smile, setting the leftovers on the counter where Mal wouldn't forget them.

"I don't know, I feel like Carlos might've gotten taller."

"Mal," Evie laughed.

Mal smiled at the sound. She leaned back against the fridge and fell into a very, very old habit of simply watching Evie move, watching her exist. The way she tucked her hair behind her ear when it fell too far into her face as she wiped down the countertops, the fluttering of her eyelashes with every blink, and how even her idle expression seemed like something that should be painted onto a canvas and hung in a museum of masterpieces. Back at Auradon Prep, falling in love with Evie had been very easy to do.

Now, Mal could definitely see why.

"...I missed you, E. I'm not sure if I've actually told you that yet."

Evie turned around to face her, wearing a sad smile.

"You haven't. Truthfully, I've been under the impression that you'd forgotten all about me."

Well, it wasn't like she was wrong.

"...I didn't mean to, Evie."

"I know," Evie said. "I forgot about you here and there too. I didn't mean to either. We just...grew up. And time got away from us."

Mal folded her arms to keep from hugging herself tight like a shivering girl in the cold.

"So then...are we just not going to talk about it?" she shyly wondered.

And she knew that furrowing of Evie's features, the questioning tilt of her head.

"...You and me," Mal clarified, feeling like she should be wincing in pain as she said those words. "I mean, kudos to us both for acting like this whole time we've just been old pals saying hello, but you know we're not. Nothing close to it."

Evie really didn't know what to say to that, mirroring Mal by crossing her arms and staring down at the floor.

"I'm not mad about it, E, in case you were afraid that I was," Mal said first and foremost. "Time got away just like you said, what happened to us wasn't anybody's fault. You were always the heart of the group, the gravity, and with you gone, it's easy to understand how all of us could drift apart. How you and I could drift apart. I just...I want you to know that I'm so sorry that things ended the way they did. It must have seemed like all that time together meant nothing to me in the end, but that's the farthest thing from the truth."

"...I'm so sorry too, Mal. It shouldn't have been like that, not for us. Once upon a time we were everything to each other...and that, I didn't forget about."

"...You want to know something, E? For seven years, it's been me, Jay, and Carlos. The people at the animation studio are just my coworkers. I don't talk to them outside of work, I definitely don't hang out with them, and I don't even remember the names of anyone I went to art school with. I can count the number of friends I have right now on two fingers, Evie. I never even thought to try and make more, and I've been absolutely fine with that. It's like, after all this time...I've been keeping a spot saved for my very best."

Evie smiled, took a step closer to Mal.

"Like somewhere deep down you were always waiting for me to come back," she said.

"...If you're up for it, I'd like to have a best friend again. Not just an acquaintance I only meet at Olaf's every couple of weeks. Someone I can spend the entire day texting and dragging out shopping with me. Say the word and the spot is yours."

"...Alright then. When are you free again?" Evie asked.

"For you? Anytime."

Texting all day. Going out shopping. Spending lunch breaks getting sandwiches. Showing up at each other's offices with coffee, riding around blasting music in Evie's car. It was almost laughable how easily Mal and Evie made time for each other now that they were actually trying. The awkward pair talking woodenly to one another in a snowman's crowded bakery a month ago was no more, now neither one of them could scarcely recall a time where anything between them could've been labeled as "awkward".

Going out on the town with Mal at her side and reacquainting herself with Auradon City had been great for Evie, but a whole month practically straight of it was beginning to wear her down. At the end of this particular work week, with the weekend preparing to step out from around the corner, Evie wanted to stay in. When Mal interpreted Evie wanting to stay in as Evie needing space and alone time, she graciously bowed out.

"What?" Evie questioned, her eyebrows furrowing with her confusion.

"I said no problem, E. We don't have to do anything this weekend," Mal repeated herself. "You deserve a few days to just stay at home and chill out. Ever since you got those boxes unpacked I feel like you've been running nonstop."

Evie had been able to leave work early that day, and came to the animation studio to selflessly offer to pick Mal up, drive her home, and spare her the agony of a Friday afternoon on the city bus. With the both of them having been crammed into desks all day, they were taking a short trip around the block to stretch their legs before settling in for a car ride, and Evie wondered if the rush hour traffic around them had made Mal mishear.

"I said I wanted to stay in. I didn't say anything about you staying out."

Mal processed that, and then laughed.

"Oh come on, Evie. How are you not tired of me by now?" she asked.

"How are you not tired of me?" Evie asked right back, quick as a whip.

"Huh. Okay, a fair point."

"Of course it is. It's my point. I'm the very embodiment of fairness."

"And humility."

Oh yes, the days of an awkward pair talking woodenly to one another were long gone. Evie smoothly took Mal's little quip in stride the way only a best friend could.

"So, instead of me sitting alone in my apartment tomorrow, maybe a movie night is in order," Evie said.

"Sure, a real glamorous movie night on your TV that only gets like, ten channels."

"I will rent the movies, genius."

"...Whoa, E. Where do you keep it?"

Evie frowned.

"...Where do I keep what?" she asked.

"The time machine you're gonna use to hop back to when people still rented movies."

Evie stomped her foot indignantly, gave Mal a shove, had all the signs of someone seconds away from positively fuming—but the peal of bewildered laughter spilling from her lips rendered those signs null and void.

"Oh my god, you are so annoying!!" she told Mal. The harsh words didn't have a single bit of bite in them.

"Tired of me yet?" Mal laughed right back, enjoying the incredulous smile on Evie's face.

"You have five seconds to give me a yes or a no on tomorrow before I push you down a manhole."

That incredulous smile made Evie's threat utterly endearing. Mal didn't need five seconds.

"It's a yes."

Movie nights. They were always Mal's favorite at Auradon Prep. They came with getting away from the school, sharing popcorn in a dark theater, cuddling close and sometimes ignoring the movie altogether to pay extra special attention to each other's lips. But that was a long time ago, and things went differently these days. Yet neither Mal nor Evie saw fit to complain, happy to just be back at one another's side as these weeks had carried on, like making up for seven years of lost time all at once.

When Saturday came, Evie texted Mal to ask how she felt about ice cream for dinner as they wasted away the evening in front of the TV. A ridiculous question. As if Mal was going to turn down ice cream for dinner, adult taste buds be damned.

She was already smiling as she rang the doorbell to Evie's apartment. Evie was already smiling before she even answered the door.

"So much better than trying to find our seats in a crowded theater, isn't it?" Evie greeted her in anticipation of their private evening.

"Or everyone's annoying ability to cough at the most important parts of the movie," Mal added, stepping through the doorway.

She unzipped her jacket and hung it in the entryway closet, then kicked off her shoes and left them at the door. Being comfortable in Evie's apartment was second nature to her by now, just as Evie could make herself absolutely at home in Mal's.

"I got you strawberry ice cream," Evie grinned, leading the way to the kitchen to get "dinner" ready before they started the movies.

Mal's eyes went wide.

"The kind with—"

"—Actual strawberry chunks in it, yes," Evie easily finished her sentence.

Mal made a grab for Evie's hands and spun her around, looking seriously into her eyes.

"Evie. I adore you."

"Good. Sometimes I can't tell," Evie teased.

Evie picking out the movies essentially meant one big pile of rom-coms. Not that she fondly recalled the days of mother's mind-numbing pressure for her to find a prince, romance was just always a concept she admired in general. Mal didn't complain. In spite of herself, she didn't particularly hold a grudge against the overdone boy meets girl tale that was the basis of so many of Auradon's movies and stories, she just personally preferred a different story—girl meets girl.

Girl meets girl, girl hates girl, girl sacrifices herself to a cursed scepter for girl, girl and girl move to a magic kingdom, girl and girl fall in love.

Girl and girl say goodbye to each other and forget all about the love and sacrifice that brought them together so fiercely. That part, Mal didn't quite prefer.

Sitting together on the couch a mere twenty or so minutes into the first movie, Evie started to shiver beside Mal—too much ice cream too fast. A rookie mistake.

"Hey, you want me to get you a blanket?"

Mal shouldn't have been laughing at her as she offered, but Evie's teeth were literally chattering. It was comical.

"I d-don't have a spare b-blanket," Evie answered. "...What I d-do have is a best friend who's always toasty warm with dragon heritage."

"So now I have to put down my ice cream just to keep you warm?" Mal and her dragon heritage had been munching away contentedly.

"That's the idea."

"Wow. I hate you."

"I thought you adored me."

"Changed my mind."

Tough talk, but Mal relented without much of a fight, setting her bowl of ice cream on the end table beside her and reaching an arm out so Evie could fall into a one-sided hug.

"Mhm, warm," Evie happily noted, shivers already slowing. "Just like I remembered."

Mal smiled wryly, her eyes trained on the TV screen even as they both continued to talk over the movie.

"Of course you remember. It's not like either of us could ever forget winters at Auradon Prep. The first hint of snowfall in the air meant I'd be saying goodbye to my side of the bed."

Winters at Auradon Prep where Evie refused to sleep without absolutely clinging to Mal in the night, where terminology such as "Mal's pillow" and "Evie's pillow" was quickly replaced with "Mal and Evie's pillow".

"I can't sleep when I'm cold. Sue me," Evie said defensively.

"But you could sleep glued to me?"

"You loved it."

"I couldn't move my arms, Evie!"

"You still loved it."

Evie wore a smirk that didn't falter, Mal could see it out of the corner of her eye.

Fine. So she did love it. But no way was she going to give Evie the satisfaction of hearing it said out loud.

More of the movie passed. Mal lost the plot for a bit after their conversation over what was apparently important dialogue, but she picked it back up soon enough.

"...Whew, all better now. Thanks, Mal," Evie shrugged out of her hold, sitting up straight on the couch.

Mal was startled to find herself missing her the moment Evie was out of her hold. Evie too was surprised to find herself missing that embrace no sooner than she had gotten herself out of it.

It was so simple. So involuntary and inborn, coming together the way they just did. Something that they didn't even have to think about, like they were still the hopelessly in love girls that went to the movies together during their weekends at Auradon Prep.

"...Maybe you're still a little cold," Mal quietly murmured.

The warmth in Evie's face said otherwise.

"...Maybe I am. Just a little."

So she cozied up against Mal's side once more, reminding herself that this was normal for friends, something utterly harmless.

And hoping the traitorous thumping in her chest didn't betray her.

They stayed just like that until the screen turned black and the credits rolled. The warm flush and traitorous thumping had disappeared from Evie's body at some point, she wasn't exactly sure when, and when she sat up and away from Mal again they both stretched it out. They used to do that after untangling from each other in the morning during those winters at Auradon Prep, too.

"Do you have it in you for another movie?" Evie asked, checking the time on her phone after losing track of it. "Or is it past your bedtime?"

"I'm not that old, Evie. The night's still young. You didn't rent all these movies for nothing, after all."

With the go-ahead Evie slipped off the couch and knelt down to the floor, taking the movie out of the DVD player and sticking it back in its case. As she shuffled through the pile to pick out the next one to watch she turned her head and looked over her shoulder, glancing in Mal's direction.

"...Your ice cream turned to soup," she giggled.

Mal followed her eyes and looked too at the poor bowl of ice cream discarded and forgotten on the end table. Oops. Sorry, strawberry. Evie just became more interesting than you, that's all.

It was so easy to sit there and hold her. Mal had wanted Evie to stay curled up against her without even realizing she wanted her to. Evie's head on her shoulder was something she could've enjoyed all night if only one single movie could go on for hours and hours.

If only.

"...E?"

"Hm?" Evie had focused back on the DVDs, flipping them over and re-reading the summaries despite reading them back at the video rental place.

Mal didn't have Evie's full attention. Whatever wave of courage (or insanity) she was riding just then quickly petered out as suddenly as it rushed in.

"...Nevermind."

"What?" Evie prodded. "What were you going to say?"

"Nothing. It was a personal question, it's not even my place to ask."

Evie didn't understand the logic behind that.

"A personal question? M, if anyone can ask me one of those, it's you. I'm not sure what the question would be, though. You already know everything about me."

"I did, once. But that was so long ago. Maybe things have changed. Maybe I don't know you as well as I used to," Mal shrugged, an apathetic gesture to hide the fact that the thought of not knowing Evie hurt her a little.

Evie turned herself to face Mal and tucked her legs comfortably underneath her.

"So then ask what you were going to ask."

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"You wouldn't have tried to bring it up if you didn't mean anything by it. We're friends again, remember? You can ask me anything."

Curse it all, Mal could never resist those rich brown eyes, not when they stared so deep into her heart and soul the way they tended to do.

"Are you seeing anyone?" Mal felt like she blurted it out, and the words that followed spilled out even faster. "Because the movie night is great and everything but I'd hate to be sitting here all nice and cozy with you while you've got someone waiting back in Cinderellasburg or—"

Evie quickly put a hand on Mal's knee when it was clear she was about to ramble on indefinitely without taking a breath.

"Mal, pause," she urged her. "Relax for a second."

Mal did pause, but she couldn't relax, not when she was wholly unsure of what sort of news about her love life Evie was about to unload on her.

"No, M, I'm not seeing anyone. I actually haven't dated a single girl since I graduated Auradon Prep and moved to Cinderellasburg."

Mal's jaw literally dropped in astonishment. Evie was an absolute vision, and most people in the kingdom had fully functioning eyeballs. The thought of her not once being with anyone this entire time seemed like a scientific impossibility.

"You haven't dated...?" Mal couldn't even repeat the whole sentence, it was that impossible. "But, you—"

"Were asked, of course. But I couldn't say yes. Even when I'd stopped thinking about you the way that I used to...seeing someone else was just never an option that occurred to me."

Mal didn't believe it.

"Then...what? You were just going to casually go through the rest of your life never dating anyone ever again?"

"Maybe. I don't know. I wasn't exactly thinking that far ahead," Evie shrugged apologetically, sorry she didn't have a more precise answer. "Mal, you were everything to me. And when you've had everything, it's hard to let yourself settle for less. I suppose that's the princess in me talking."

A strange silence settled slowly over them. Not awkward, just strange. Eyes of green were locked steadily on eyes of brown. Evie's hand was still on Mal's knee.

"...So what changes now that you know there's no one waiting for me in Cinderellasburg?"

An unusual question, Mal thought. Was Evie expecting something to change?

"...Well, I won't feel guilty about the cuddling, for one thing," Mal grumbled, breaking her gaze away.

"You were just keeping me warm."

"Long after you had already finished eating your ice cream, sure. You keep telling yourself that," Mal grumbled some more. "Evie, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. Now I've just gone and made things weird."

"Weird? No you haven't. How could anything ever be weird between us?"

Mal wasn't listening.

"Maybe I should go after all," she shuffled in her seat like she was fixing to stand up, moving out from under Evie's hand.

"Please don't," Evie's eyes were suddenly glittering, but not with the happiness they usually glittered with. This was a hot, wet glitter that she had to blink back to keep her vision from blurring.

"No, really, maybe it's better if we just leave it at this before I say something else completely stupid. I came here for a movie night, not to put my foot in my mouth and ruin a nice evening. Sorry again, Evie, I shouldn't have pried."

"Mal, stop! It was just a question, you didn't do anything wrong!"

Mal gasped, but not at the outburst.

"...Evie, why are you crying?"

Blinking furiously had done her no good; Evie was indeed quietly crying.

"...Because I feel like if you leave here upset with me you'll never come back again," Evie whispered. She couldn't speak much louder around the tears.

Mal did stand up from the couch, but not to leave, to drop down next to Evie on the floor and pull her into a hug.

"E, no, it's not like that, not at all! I'm not upset with you!" she fiercely assured her. "Even if I was, what makes you think I'd never come back? What, you think you're just some new girl in town I can ditch because I barely know her?"

"Am I not exactly that?" Evie questioned. "You were the one who sat here and said that maybe things have changed, that maybe you don't know me as well as you used to. How am I not just the new girl in town? Someone you can stop hanging around without even needing a reason to?"

"Because you're Evie. And not once in your life have you ever been 'just' anything."

Evie didn't say anything as she pulled herself out of the hug to wipe her eyes, so Mal went on.

"Look, I've had the most amazing month getting to spend time with you again. You just came back into my life. I'm not going to walk out of yours just because I made things uncomfortable by bringing up something that I shouldn't have."

"It's not uncomfortable for me. Why does it feel uncomfortable to you?" Evie wondered, unsure why Mal was struggling with the asking of such a harmless question.

Mal had the reason in her head, it just took her a moment to puzzle through it enough to sort it into words.

"Because...because we just stopped, Evie. There was no clean break with us, something we could heal and move on from. Something we could get closure from. It was so gradual that neither of us even knew it happened. One day I was so amazingly in love with you, and then suddenly...it all just stopped. Now it's seven years later and we're calling each other 'friends'? Starting from zero and pretending our old lives together never happened and all that love never mattered? It's so confusing, I don't know what to feel, E."

Thank goodness for adulthood and at least some semblance of emotional maturity. A Mal younger by even just a few years never would have been able to get through this conversation.

Eyes of brown were carefully tracing every inch of Mal's face like Evie's very life depended on committing the smallest of details to memory.

"...I don't think we ever stopped, Mal."

Mal tried to puzzle through that too, but was drawing a blank.

"What do you mean?"

Now it was Evie who needed a moment to sort her thoughts into words.

"At the end of my housewarming party you told me that you've gone all this time without making a new friend, not because you couldn't, but because you didn't want to—like you were saving a spot for me all along. Well, I spent seven years being single not because I couldn't find someone, but because I didn't want to—like I was saving a spot for you all along. So, maybe in spite of all the time that passed and the years of silence...maybe we never actually stopped, M."

Mal was shocked. She hadn't made that connection between what she'd told Evie a month ago and what Evie had told her tonight.

"...I miss it, Evie," her voice was almost choked and unfamiliar to her.

Evie moved in closer, as if readying to comfort her.

"What do you miss?" she asked.

"...Being amazingly in love with you."

Mal had never thought about what it might be like to have Evie kiss her again after so many years, but with her breath catching, the soft and urgent push of Evie's lips, eyes drifting shut and letting touch take over for sight, she didn't have to think very hard about it at all.

It was everything like those days when they were only teenagers, those first tentative days of taking an unbreakable friendship into something even further, feeling all the butterflies and fluttering heartbeats that came with it.

"Evie..." Mal could only think to say that one word, her best friend's name whispered with all the softness of a prayer.

"...People tried to tell me I'd forget about you," Evie nuzzled her nose against Mal's before capturing her in a kiss again, another thing they'd lost over the years that she fully intended to make up for now. "They told me the long-distance thing was bound to fail, that one day I'd just let you slip away like a dream after waking up. So why didn't I? Why did I keep that dream so deep down that I didn't even realize I was still holding on to it?"

Evie's tone was rhetorical. She didn't need an answer, she already knew the answer. Mal understood this, but she gave her one anyway.

"...Because forgetting about something doesn't mean you stop caring."

Evie nodded, tucking Mal's hair behind her ear to see that perfect face even better.

"That's exactly right, M."

"And everyone told me I'd forget about you too, but no one ever told me that I'd stop caring."

Evie giggled, finding irony in the way she felt like crying again despite being absolutely elated.

"It's like picking up a book right where you left off, with a whole world inside just waiting to welcome you back," she noted with a smile.

"...Are we picking up that book?" Mal questioned, somehow unsure even with Evie in her arms again and the warmth of several kisses still on her lips. "...Going right back to the page we stopped on like nothing even happened?"

"We had an amazing story, Mal. It's so sad to think of never getting to see how that story ends. Whether it's good, or whether it's bad...I'd still like to know how it ends."

Mal tried to wrap her head around it, heart pounding against her ribs as feelings old and new unraveled inside of her.

"You really want this for us? For yourself?"

"...Yes. I do. I know I only met you a month ago, but it feels like I've known you for years," Evie joked.

"It feels like I've known you for years too," Mal played along.

"And I'd love to get to know you more over dinner sometime."

"Evie," Mal laughed, breaking the bounds of their little game.

Evie laughed along with her for a moment.

"Mal, college is over," she said, holding both of Mal's hands. "We're grown up, in the same city, and just twenty minutes away from each other. Going to different schools was the only thing that kept us apart, and now that's done and gone."

Mal's own elated mood faltered.

"No, now there's just adult things to keep us apart, like a magazine even better than Midnight offering you a job and you having to move again someday," she sadly said. "Life has ways to tear people apart no matter the age."

"Maybe. But I seem to have a talent for finding my way back to you, don't I?"

Mal was smiling again, having no choice but to beam brightly for Evie. Her Evie.

"Like showing up after seven years just to steal my strawberry Danish while Olaf wanders around offering up relaxing candlelight."

Evie was grinning at the memory.

"Hey, the little guy gets credit for trying," she said. "That self-proclaimed love expert is the reason you and I even stopped to catch up that night in the first place."

"...Yeah, I guess he is, isn't he?" Mal realized, remembering how in her rush to get to work that morning she had fully intended to leave Evie with nothing more than a wave and a "Nice running into you" before walking off and never seeing her again.

"Maybe he's really a love expert after all," Evie couldn't resist another kiss, the natural pout of Mal's lips was just inviting her in over and over again.

It shouldn't have been that easy for them to come together, to fall into each other both literally and figuratively. But it was happening the second time around exactly how it had the first time around—without them even needing to think about it.

"This is insane," Mal was disbelieving of her luck, her good fortune. "Now it feels like nothing's changed, like you've been by my side this entire time."

"...After we graduated, and I came to you in tears thinking we had to end things because we were going to be too far apart, it was you who decided otherwise. You made me understand and believe that yes, we couldn't be with each other every day as we went off to college, but it was only for four years. You helped me drive away from Auradon Prep looking forward to the day when we'd be back together."

"'Only for four years'," Mal dryly repeated, realizing how much different it sounded now than it did when they were those lovesick high schoolers.

"That was our promise. Four years later, we would come back to each other. We'd pick up right where we'd left off. And yes, life went and added an extra three years onto that, but still. It was never a goodbye, it was only 'See you later'...well, M, it's later."

It was indeed.

"...So you really waited seven years for me, huh?" Mal marveled.

Evie captured her best friend's smile in the gentlest of kisses; soft, and longing, and so overdue.

"You were worth it."