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Malia never understood the big to do about Romance. The candy hearts and delicate doilies didn’t move her, she’d rather just share a bag of skittles than get a heart-shaped box of chocolates with only two good flavors and a cheesy note. Even when she’d been young there had been an appeal to all of the pink and red and oh so sweet softness, she’d still never fully understood it all. The most romantic she’d ever been was in the second grade when she made Bobby High a macaroni heart and asked to marry him because he was the best at kickball. The gesture lost a bit of its value when he laughed at her. It lost a bit more value when she punched him right in the nose for humiliating her.
But... she had gone by Mark back then so the gesture may have been impacted by that but still, there was no excuse for refusing a macaroni heart. Not unless you’re some kind of heartless alien. She was only seven for god sake, how could humiliate her like that? They were supposed to be progressive and accepting, not to mention polite. Had he learned nothing from Mrs. Larkspur?
She really shouldn’t count something from so far back but she wants to, it might not have been ideal or perfectly sweet and lovely like it should've been but it was a good milestone in her life, and punching someone in the nose felt better than any kiss she’d ever have. In fact she’d spent more of her life punching things than kissing them, so maybe she didn’t have much room to talk.
She’d never really met anyone she’d felt so much for to say she loved them in that way. Well besides Stiles, but besides him, there’d been no one. She didn’t even plan to feel much with him, she just… felt something. It wasn’t new, she’d felt like that before, somewhere deep in her gut, under her skin. He just made himself look so kissable that she couldn’t resist. Maybe it was the predator in her, still hungry for what she couldn’t have for so long that she reached out to him. Hungry, so hungry.
When they were together she felt so full of everything.
Maybe that was what romance was. The overwhelming fullness that made the heart ache and swell in equal measure, all for someone else’s warmth and care. She wanted to call it beautiful, to celebrate the sweet affection between them, but Malia had never been the most poetic person in the world. She was too straightforward for that.
Some nights she’ll wonder what ended them, not indifference that’s for sure. Maybe it was her brashness or his obsessions. Maybe it was their shared inability to just speak to each other. Or maybe it was just life pushing them apart. She’d never been too into the idea of a high school sweetheart but she wouldn’t have minded if it was him that she’d spend her life with.
It seems almost bittersweet that even in her youth a macaroni heart didn’t stand a chance against a real issue. She’s not sure any amount of red paper and glitter glue could’ve fixed what’s broken between her and Stiles but maybe… maybe that was okay? Not everyone stayed forever; that she knew first hand. And change, even if it’s painful, can be good. She’d spent too long in her coyote form, she’s sure, but maybe if she could just go back out to the forest and live out her days in fur and four legs the hurt would fade away.
“That’s a terrible idea,” Kira assures her, waving her spoon at her before digging into the giant tub of rocky road between them. Malia just shrugs, licking the last bit of chocolate off of her own spoon dejectedly.
“What else am I supposed to do? I’m not good at this?” Kira takes a moment to think it out thoroughly.
“We could finish this tub of ice cream. Chocolate is supposed to make your brain release positive, feel-good endorphins.
“Yeah, we could, but then you’ll get a stomach ache.” Kira lets her sticky hand rest on Malia’s clean one, expression serious.
“Malia Tate, in life, you learn that some things are worth suffering for.” Malia lets out a snort of laughter, pulling her hand back away from Kira’s sugary grasp.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I am, I’m proud of that fact honestly,” She says with a toothy grin. Malia rolls her eyes and spoons out another generous portion of rocky road.
“But seriously,” Kira starts, “There’s nothing wrong with you, or with breaking up with Stiles. I mean it’s hard, breaking up isn’t usually easy or painless, but that’s no reason to go back to the forest and spend the rest of your life as a coyote. You did your best but some relationships just don’t work.”
Malia tries not to feel bitter, really she does, but it feels a little odd to hear that from the girl with the True Alpha werewolf Jesus boyfriend that constantly dotes on her that some relationships don’t work. But maybe it’s true. Werewolf Jesus and Adorable Ray of Sunshine would, of course, end up in a wonderful, happy relationship. And, yeah, Surly Sarcastic Son of a Bitch and Morally Ambiguous Coyote might not have been the best match, that’s fair, but she’d rather hear it from someone in a relationship just as bad as her’s, if not worse. The model couple isn’t exactly who she wants encouragement from.
“Scott’s been talking to him too you know. It hasn’t been going well but he’s been trying. Their relationship is probably never going to be the same again…” She drops her spoon into the half empty tub of ice cream. “Scott’s really depressed about it, but he’s trying to act like he’s not.” Malia takes her hand, gives it a little squeeze, then let’s go.
“I’m the same way I think.” She pulls her knees up against her chest. “It’s not his fault, Stiles. He’s just under a lot of stress these days. He was never like this before. At least not this bad. I don’t know what to do when he’s pushing us all away.” And, no, she’s not going to cry, not about breaking up with a boy . Even if it was one she really liked. Even if he might have been the love of her life. She’s only what? Twenty-two? What did she know about love?
“All we can do is wait for him to come back to us.” Kira wraps herself around Malia’s hunched shoulders, draping her body over her like a particularly affectionate throw rug. They don’t speak for a long moment, they just sit together in a companionable silence.
“Do you think it was my fault?” Malia asks quietly. Kira shakes her head.
“I think Stiles is an adult that made his choice. I don’t think it had anything to do with you. He does things like that.” Kira doesn’t really understand Stiles too thoroughly but that’s the one thing she learned after more than five years of friendship. The man is single-minded to a fault.
“That’s true. He does.” Malia stretches out of her curled up position and lets herself lay flat under Kira’s warmth. They end up cuddled together, arms wrapped around each other. She focuses on the steady sound of her best friend’s heartbeat, letting her eyes fall shut. She can’t feel sorry for herself forever, can’t go back to woods to avoid this unexpected pain.
“Can you stay the night?” Her voice is small, unsure, but Kira wraps herself around her body, snuggling her face into Malia’s chest.
“As long as you need me,” She whispers. Malia’s heart swells a bit. The tears she’d been fighting slip out. She doesn’t sob or weep, but the emotion of it all still flows out her till she’s completely free of it. At least for a moment.
“Okay…” She doesn’t want to talk anymore after that and Kira--
Kira understands.