Archive of Our Own ^beta

She was having a heart attack; Stella was sure of it. Her breathing; irregular, vision; blurry and she swore she could smell burnt toast. The front door to Bloom’s house slowly shut behind her, slightly deafening the sound of whatever pop song was playing over the speakers. Stella couldn’t discern it with her ears ringing. Was that another symptom?

The blonde took another step forward, fiddling with her purse to get her keys out, she wanted to leave…she needed to leave, she repeated in her head. She wanted to go because she had fucked up and was pretty sure she had ruined everything.

She wouldn’t do that if she’d seen her message…Stella hoped. Otherwise, she should’ve heaved the warning everyone including their ex had given her.

She was probably overreacting or maybe reacting appropriately, either way she wished you could delete text messages! With her keys in hand now Stella took another step away from the door, away from the difficult conversation she was the one seeking to initiate and running away from at the same time. Hence the heart attack.

Front porch now successfully crossed, car sitting ideally six paces away from her and still she was frozen in place. A shaky breath was expelled as Stella walked over and sat on the curb beside her car, shrugging off the plastic wings and halo that made up the angel costume she’d adorned for the party. Another big breath out as she willed herself not to cry whilst sitting alone outside her friend’s house. This stream of thoughts didn’t help as the first tears started to well up in her eyes. She rubbed her finger along the ribbed side of her keys, whilst pulling out her phone and re-reading the messages that had started this whole shit-show. Hoping that the one person she did and didn’t want to talk to would notice her disappearance.

“I have no clue what to be for this party.” Beatrix complained dramatically whilst sitting next to Stella. The other girl’s textbook lay unopened on the table while she had her laptop open scrolling through Halloween costume inspiration.

“Just wear a corset top and a tiara, be a princess. It’s one of the easiest last-minute costumes.” Stella replied never taking her eyes off her history notes. She needed to pass this test in fifth period if she wanted to even attend this party; per her mother’s orders.

Beatrix snickered and finally opened her textbook even though they were forty-five minutes into their one-hour free period, so it seemed pointless to Stella for her to start studying now.

Then she spoke and Stella understood why, it was so she could pretend to focus elsewhere whilst she teased the blonde.

“You’re the princess though, I wouldn’t want to steal your title.”

“My mothers a Governor Bea, not a Queen’” Stella refuted automatically, they’d had this exchange a million times throughout their friendship.

“Modern day equivalent,” Beatrix dismissed, smothering a smile that threatened to break through. “What are you again?” She asked.

“An angel,”

“I meant your costume,” this line makes Stella falter, eyes widening and a blush creeping across her face.

“I hate you,” Stella mumbles barely audibly and yet Beatrix picks up on it.

“You love me,” she playfully replies. Yes, is all the blonde thinks. “Best thing that happened to you this year.” The shorter girl continues. Yes, Stella thinks again.

“Maybe you should go as a humble person, that would be a real switch up.” Stella quickly gets out. Desperately trying to move the conversation away from the current topic, in case she accidently said what she was thinking aloud. Her feelings for the other girl had become an increasingly unavoidable problem.

She wanted to say something, needed to soon otherwise she may explode. But there were so many factors to consider; Beatrix was so nonchalant which when you can get very high strung like Stella, it was good to be around someone who could loosen the strings and get her to relax. The only downside is she wouldn’t take some things seriously and Stella really wanted to have a very serious conversation.

She also didn’t have the greatest track record with relationships, but Stella didn’t either, so she didn’t judge as much as others certainly did.

“You going as a traditional angel with the ankle length flowy nightie,” That got Stella to laugh and finally focus back into the moment. Beatrix smiled then; when Stella met her gaze, like this had been the plan all along to pull the taller girl out of her head.

“Hi,” Beatrix speaks softly. As if she’s able to read Stella’s mind.

“Hi,” she replies a little muffled as she runs her hands across her face trying to wake herself up.

“You’re going to pass this test you’ve been ignoring all my distractions the past couple of free periods. Which means you must’ve absorbed some of this information.” She says to ease Stella’s concern whilst poking the blonde’s textbook which lays askew on the table now. “Didn’t your mum say a B+ was acceptable because she knows it’s your worst subject.”

“….yesss,” Stella grumbles out. “I need you to stop being so level-headed right now you’re ruining my panic attack.” The auburn-haired girl rolled her eyes though her amusement is present.

“Anyway, is that a yes to the flowy nightie cause it’s a very…traditional choice for a high school Halloween party.” Stella laughed again, test and subsequent anxiety forgotten.

“No, I’m not wearing one of those,” she answers. “Why do you care? Stella questions aiming to tease the other girl.

“I’m your plus one, I’m trying to understand the dress code.”

“Hmmm, and no other reasons?” Stella discerns quirking her eyebrow.

“No.” She says a little too quickly, but Stella doesn’t pay much mind to it.

“You’ll look pretty in whatever you chose,” Stella replies. Beatrix stares at her and suddenly coughs as if forcibly stopping whatever next words were to spill out, just as a new voice interrupts their conversation.

“Stella!” someone says before rounding the corner to their secluded study table in the library. Both girls jump back into their seats creating a more respectable distance between themselves, that wasn’t present a moment ago.

Aisha rounds the corner, pausing a second to observe the guilty looks on the girls before her. “Stella, Saul let us out of class early, so I was thinking we use it to plan for our debate next week.” She reasons.

“Heh, debate club,” Beatrix mocks under her breath. Stella gives her a weak kick under the table to shut her up.

“Sure,” she replies quickly packing up everything. “You can text me about your costume later if you still need help.” She offers to Beatrix who nods in response. They say goodbye and Aisha and her head to their club’s designated classroom.

“I’m sorry for interrupting I tried to announce my presence.” Aisha apologises.

“No need to apologies, we were just studying. Well, I was studying she was distracting me.” Aisha doesn’t say anything in reply. “What?” Stella asks annoyed her friend is withholding something.

“You told her yet?” Stella snaps towards the dark-haired girl narrowing her eyes trying to convey to her to drop this topic.

“No.” Stella grits out.

“Because it looks like there’s something going on between you and her.” She teases. Which is actually the worst thing Aisha could’ve said, because Stella thinks so to, she believes it so, to a degree, which is contradictory, but she doesn’t care at this point.

“What if I’m reading it wrong,” she finally caves needing to talk about this. “What if I’m wrong and I say something like; hey Bea, I really like you want to date? And then she says no I actually really enjoy this homoerotic friendship we are in, thanks for asking.” Stella dramatically proclaims into the empty debate classroom, very thankful no-one decided to arrive early. “I’d rather die than hear her say something like that.”

Aisha doesn’t take her statement in the light-hearted way Stella totally meant it in. She instead gives her this pointed look that cuts through Stella entirely, leaving her exposed and feeling more nervous than she was a second ago because she can no longer hide behind her joke.

“I’m just worried, she doesn’t date, and I want to date.” Stella admits defeat and confides in the swimmer. She gets a warm smile in return and a hand patting the seat next to her.

“Want to tell me about it?” the dark-haired girl offers. And Stella expels a big breath, she does. She can’t talk to her mum about these things, and she doesn’t need it to be a whole Winx affair, but Aisha is safe. She’s a little critical, can be judgy but she doesn’t mind that in this conversation.

7:28
Stella: Hey could I talk to you about something tonight.

7:42
Stella: Im afraid this text sounded to ominous, I want to talk about us
Stella: our friendship! so nothing to worry about 😊

8:11
Stella: I helped Bloom set up, so im already here txt me when your leaving yours

10:02
Stella: You okay? I’m about to call you that’s how concerned I am

They text every night, that’s what has Stella so concerned. She should not have let Aisha convince her into talking to Beatrix tonight, she thinks as she runs her fingers through her hair again, continuing to mess up her previously perfect look. These feelings were eating her up inside, she needed to say something and yet now the anxiety has gotten to her and she’s wishing one could delete messages, because she was sure she looked desperate right now. Her only saving grace was she had kept it to five messages...and one voicemail. The party had started at eight, most people had filed in at nine but the only person Stella cared about seeing was nowhere to be found. She was on the edge of hyperventilating, the music was a little too loud and her heart rate a bit too fast for someone who hasn’t drunk a drop tonight.

She was late, like late late she had promised Stella to be at Blooms around nine, and each tick of the clock pushed her arrival time closer to ten-thirty. When school had ended, she’d quickly sent off a ‘I’m sure you did really well on the test text to Stella’ and rushed as elegantly as she could to the head coaches office. Knocking four times she waits for her dad’s response, the door opens and Andreas looks surprised to see her here four minutes after school ended.

“I need to borrow the car.” She states. He moves his forefingers up to the bridge of his nose and squeezes it slightly in response, which was never a good sign.

“Sky has the car tonight for the party; he cleared it with me last week.” Her father grumbled out knowing this answer wouldn’t please her. He was right.

“Why can’t he borrow Saul’s?” She replies, they’d moved back last year and watching her dad try to win back his estranged son’s affective was sweet sometimes, but when that son already had another father and said other father had a car he could borrow it was categorised as one of those other times when Andreas trying to win Sky back left this empty feeling in her chest she didn’t want to address, paired with a little annoyance this time too.

“Bea I’m sorry, but you know we talked about letting me know in advance about these things.” He places his hands on her shoulders giving her that I love you, no tall blonde son will change that, but the rules are rules look that he saved for times like these. She sighs in defeat.

“Stella might sleep over tonight, here is your warning,” She replies instead of getting mushy like Andreas currently was. He lifted his eyebrows.

“Door open remember,”

“We’re friends dad,”

He gave her another look, Beatrix swears it’s his favourite way to communicate.

“Still?” He questions. That’s when she takes her leave from this conversation, she was not engaging in a discussion about her relationship status to the blonde with her father. He laughs as she leaves the hall his office resides in and pulls out her phone.

“…why are you calling me? you dying?” Came Riven’s reply to seeing her name and image pop up on his phone.

“About to,” she replies. “I don’t have a costume for tonight and Andreas gave Sky the car so you’re taking me.”

“Fine… text me next time though. I have a reputation to protect, and I just looked way to worried about you in public.” He gruff’s out. Beatrix hangs up sending her eta to Riven over messages, he was a good friend she thought quietly to herself.

She regrets her earlier memento when Riven discloses he also didn’t have a costume. She could tell this would take forever because he insisted upon this theme he called; uncaringly hot. Which was his nonchalant way of expressing that he wanted Musa to see he tried but didn’t try too hard, cause god forbid Riven lord of sarcasm and bad boy repour care about what a girl thought, and he had to look hot. Beatrix rolled her eyes as he showed her another option. She’d expected their positions to be switched with him getting annoyed at her, but nope she was the one dishing out relationship and styling advice to her ex-boyfriend, the irony was not lost on her but at least it gave her a break from his constant teasing about her and Stella.

“Oh, we also need to get more drinks for the party after this.” She almost hit him after he disclosed this. She’d had to turn her phone off off because it was almost dead and Riven being the boy he was had one charging cable in his car that she’d given him a year ago that was so frayed it only charged when held at one specific angle that she couldn’t physically keep her phone in, so she resided to the reality it was going to die very soon and considering it was already 7:05 wasn’t ideal.

“I hate you.”

“You needed a ride this is the price you pay.” He retorts. Which just makes her roll her eyes harder, he was going to be the death of her. She had promised Stella she’d be at the party nine-thirty at the latest which was still plenty of time, but she had a feeling she’d be late regardless. The dead battery warning flashed on the otherwise pitch back screen of her phone almost taunting her.

After another hour and a half in which they only traversed three more stores Riven had finally picked a costume; he was going as a race car driver in one of their branded onesies. It was the only outfit that fit all of his criteria which also got her approval, because even though he was taking forever Beatrix wanted to help him get Musa’s attention. He had the guts to openly go for the quieter girl. Beatrix was terrified to make an actual non-joking move on the blonde because this last eight months had been the best time she’d had at a new school, and she didn’t want to ruin that but God she couldn’t hide that she wanted to move past friends for much longer.

They got dinner, Riven’s shout for taking so long, and finally were on there way.

“Oh drinks I forgot.” Beatrix's eye twitched, she wanted to strangle him.

“Calm down you’ll get to your princess soon enough.”

“You’re the princess, you dragged me through an entire montage scene the past however long!”

Riven had left the car running which gave the auburn-haired girl a moment to awkwardly hold her phone diagonally and was relived to get some charge into it.

New Voicemail

Stella: 5 New Messages

Shit.

Before she could look at the texts a loud knock came on the car window, and she looked around for a murder weapon because Riven was getting on her last nerve. He got her to open and pack the boot of his car and then finally they were on there way.

Stella did another lap of the house, moving slowly and sweeping her eyes over the different groups, hoping to catch a sight of auburn hair somewhere. She swears if she mistakes Bloom for Beatrix again, she’s going to suggest bleach to the red head the next time she wants to change up her look. She passes Aisha who gives her a thumbs up in encouragement which doesn’t help because in that moment she spots her. She had followed her advice sort of, she was wearing a black corset top, black skirt, black feathered wings and a matching-coloured halo, a perfect inverse to Stella’s costume. She looked beautiful. Her hair flowing a perfect contrast against her dark attire, Stella had to flit her eyes away to avoid staring for too long. That’s when she clocked the rest of the shorter girl’s surroundings. She’s in the front room, where they’d agreed to meet, and from here on out wasn’t one of the blonde’s finest moments. There was a guy standing next to Beatrix engaged in conversation with her. They were smiling at each other, and Stella was so, so overwhelmed by what she was planning to do tonight; and the other girl being late wasn’t adding a good ingredient to the mix.

Every insecurity about asking the other girl out came rushing to the forefront of her mind like a tsunami in the seconds following seeing them standing together.

Maybe she was mistaken about this whole thing and they were just friends, and Beatrix would be able to read between the lines of the messages she sent, and everything would be messed up forever.

Air…she needed air otherwise she was going to…she didn’t know, faint, have a heart attack. She pushed past party goers as she walked out the front door her heartbeat pounding in her head.

She swore she had just seen Stella for a moment, a pure white outfit on a tall person had walked into the hallway a few feet from where she was standing.

Someone was talking to her attempting to get her attention; she smiled at his joke and scanned the room again. Stella had told her to wait in the front room when she arrived; albeit she should’ve an hour ago. He shifted then when he realised she wasn’t focused on him. Now placing himself in front of her, blocking off her searching; her niceties dropped and she instantaneously left going to look for Stella. She shivered, thinking back to the days she revealed in getting attention like that. All eyes on her, want in everyone gaze it had made her feel important, valued, needed.

That’s why her a Riven happened; two people seeking to fix their senses of self-worth in each other. That’s why they ended too, figuring out they weren’t helping each other, only distracting them from their problems.

This was why she didn’t trust herself with Stella, she didn’t feel whole enough to support…to love another, when she couldn’t do that for herself. That’s why she joked, that’s why she deflected. Yet she dressed up tonight, hoping to match the other girl’s costume. To see her face light up, to see that approval, that friendship, that…love in Stella’s eyes she was so horrible at hiding.

That’s why despite her mistrust in herself she couldn’t distance herself. No one challenged her, no one see’s her, no one knew her like the taller girl did. She was light and Beatrix was afraid to dim her.

Hallway no, closed bedroom door…definitely not checking in there. Bathroom smells like vomit, disgusting. Backyard, just people smoking and Aisha giving her a wave and an interestingly pleasant smile…weird. Most importantly she couldn’t find Stella anywhere.

Out the front maybe? It was the only place she hasn’t checked.

Pushing past party goers and Riven trying to act cool in front of Musa; which gives her a little amusement she makes it to the front door mostly unscathed.

She finds Stella finally, bathed in the golden light of a streetlamp sitting on the curb faced away from Bloom’s house, looking rather melancholy for an angel. Her halo was sitting beside her and her wings had been half shrugged off her shoulders. She looked like a painting Beatrix would write an essay about in Art History. How the soft yellow light made her hair glow and how that would represent her goodness, her divinity. How her wings being dismissed represented an angel’s fall from the graces of heaven, which left them scared but still connected to the world above.

Beatrix could think and think and repress the emotions this scene brought out of her but that would be a lie, Stella was her apple, the one she couldn’t resist.

Heartbeat pounding in her head she entered the frame, breaking the picturesque stillness of the image, making it real; making it the present instead of a scene she could watch, pause and contemplate about later.

She stops three feet behind the other girl, a quip about being fashionably late dying on her tongue, she swallows, even that action hard to do. She hates this, hates to cause the girl pain, she didn’t think being late would cause this. Maybe it was the lack of communication; she thought? Beatrix knows how quiet it is in Stella’s house, how her mother can convey a whole speech in one look. So, she tries to apologize with this angle in mind.

“I’m sorry I didn’t let you know I’d be coming late… I should’ve got Riven to text Musa or Sky.” She really should’ve, for someone who thinks so highly of her intelligence there was a million ways she could’ve avoided this. The blonde slowly unfolds, stretching her knees out away from the curb. Physically opening herself up to talk, that’s a good sign Beatrix thinks.

“Can I have your phone.” Stella asks blandly, as if she trying to hide any importance in this request.

“Sure,” She says confused but lifts up the side of her skirt and fishing her phone out of her stocking’s waistband and gently hands it to Stella. The blonde presses the power button immediately, failing this time around to act nonchalant. When nothing happens, she tries again holding it down for longer this time. The dead battery icon flashes across the screen before it turns black again.

Stella sighs, it’s not in relief almost the opposite, like this wasn’t the outcome she’d prepared for. She places the shorter girl’s phone down in the space next to her on the curb and leans back on her hands.

“When did it die?” she asks.

“Around seven.” Beatrix answers closing the gap between them and sitting next to the blonde.

“Anything important I missed?” She asks, not exactly sure how to continue this interaction. Beatrix is the one missing information here, she’s missed something important, very important it appears, and that’s upset Stella.

“I just sent you something…nothing to worry about honestly. I don’t know why I’m making this into a big deal. It was a drunk text I wanted to delete to save my dignity.” She replies very haphazardly.

“Liar.” It comes out so quickly Beatrix can’t stop herself; Stella eyes snap up to meet hers for the first time tonight and Beatrix has no option but to double down on this comment now. “You only drink when I ask really nicely.” She says with a smile.

Stella laughs, and some tension alleviates.

“…that is true.” Stella replies sheepishly, God she can’t lie to the other girl. She knows her to well, and that’s the problem. The taller girl knows if she drops the topic, moves this conversation away from ‘this drunk text’ Beatrix would respect that. They’ve both complained about their lack of communication skills before, how not talking about something is a quicker less emotionally taxing way of dealing with problems. That line of thought sums up Stella’s entire relationship with her mother to a T. But that’s not even a relationship, Stella feels like an obligation to her mother. A checklist item that’s on the bottom of her priority list.

If she wants them to work…to be more, it has to be hard.

“Why don’t you date?” her question sits between them for a moment. Stella offering no elaboration and Beatrix no reply so far. Stella gives in taking her first look at the girl sitting beside her, she is looking up, a worried expression crossing her face, like she’s preparing herself for something, this doesn’t ease any of Stella’s concerns.

That doubt creeps in slowly, that every look that lasted to many seconds between them was made up, that she’s pushed too far right now.

“Because I’m bad at it.” It’s said quietly, like an admission. “I don’t trust myself to be good enough for…” She finally looks back at Stella, a sadness lacing her brown eyes. “…them.”

“Oh.” Is all that she can say back. Beatrix gives her a closed mouth smile in return, one that could be easily confused with a grimace. They sit a moment longer, the confession laid out and Stella is a frozen, she thinks she’s not good enough for me.

“I’m bad too; I’m bitchy, I complain a lot yet can’t stand up for myself.” Stella gets out after a few more seconds. If Beatrix thinks she’s bad, then Stella will paint herself worse.

“I don’t mind the bitchyness, it’s refreshing.” Is what she hears, instead of the abolishing she’d have received from the Winx for the self-deprecating comment. The stark difference between Beatrix and her friends was blinding, maybe that’s why they worked. Whilst the Winx were uplifting, idealists who made sure everyone felt good all the time, who would put a stop to too much negativity.

Beatrix was darker in the sense Stella could sit with her emotions with the other girl. She could complain, she could get angry, she could be messy, she could loosen up. Beatrix knew how to handle her ugly. How could she think she was bad at relationships.

“And I don’t mind how you tease when we’re trying talk seriously.” Before this trait had worried her but she wouldn't have the girl beside her any other way.

“It’s charismatic…you love it.” Beatrix replies with stifled laugh. She does, so she tells her as such.

“I do. You make me laugh, you frustrate me, you distract me when I need it and without even trying…and I love all that about spending time with you. And having this conversation at a party is a poor idea, I know that but…” she loses her momentum the next words stuck in her throat.

“But I like you…” It’s not the correct word, what she feels for the girl across from her is more than a like, but she’s not brave enough to say that yet. She hopes it’s implied, that Beatrix will read between the lines. “And it’s getting harder for me to deny that fact when you’ve become my favourite part of the day.” She finishes feeling drained, all her nerves all her stress dissipates. It’s all out there now, it’s no longer a secret which is both scary and freeing.

“Oh,” is the reply she gets.

Beatrix says this like it’s new information, like she doesn’t know how Stella has felt towards her for the last few months. About how she feels towards the blonde, it’s so obvious even Andreas is calling her out for it. So why is getting everything she wanted so hard to hear. She wants to ask the other girl if she’s sure, because going from Sky to herself will be a massive change. That they're going to fight, that it’s going to be different that it’s going to be hard. And she needs to say all of this soon before this opportunity slips through her fingers.

She turns then looking at Stella the hope the fear the…love in her eyes. She doesn’t look mad that she’s not getting an answer straight away, she looks awfully peaceful. Like no matter the outcome she’s glad she said it, instead of holding it in any longer.

It’s this revelation, it’s spending that moment looking at the taller girl’s acceptance no matter the outcome that gives Beatrix the confidence, all the if’s, but’s and reasons not to be dammed.

But she’s never been good at admitting what she wants…

It’s meek at first both of them too shocked to gather that Beatrix has closed the distance between them, that what they feel are each other's lips pressing against their own. That while Beatrix is afraid to say it, she knew she needed to get something across to the blonde quickly.

After a moment Stella wakes, moving herself closer and hungrily kissing her back. It’s hard and soft, hot and sweet both just surprised and elated it’s happening. Beatrix carts her fingers through Stella’s soft hair while Stella has an unwavering grip on her side. Desire is present yet hesitance is stronger. Beatrix lets go first, it hurts one because they have to stop and two for the words she needs to say next.

They breath or try to, its jagged but in tandem which has them laughing and needing even more air. It’s a perfect first kiss. So unexpected, so out of the blue, so them.

“I like you too.” She finally replies. Stella beams a little, then tries to hide her expression, but the damage is done. Beatrix’s heart swells a little, she may still believe she’s bad at this but she’s going to try. “You’re not plastered?” She questions with a smug smile knowing the answer.

Stella rolls her eyes.

“no.”

“Good.” Beatrix announces, connecting there lips again. If Stella thought she was having a heart attack before nothing compares to this this feeling, of falling and safety at the same time. Beatrix leads then, swiping her tongue past Stella’s lips and the taller girl melts, residing to let Beatrix kiss her harder. Using her hand on the shorter girl’s waist she pulls her closer still, well as close as they can get sitting side by side on the curb. It’s laughable that this is where they are having there first…and second kiss, but also perfect.

“We need to find you a charger,” Stella decides after a few more seconds, Beatrix gives her a look, and Stella doesn’t need to ask her what it means; “you really stopped kissing me for that remark”. The answer to the unspoken question is yes. This confession had already been disaster enough she did not need Beatrix to see her barrage of messages that read as clingy and pitying. She needed to save some face throughout this ordeal.

Beatrix rolls her eyes but gets up holding her hand out to help Stella.

“You can delete the texts, but I’m hearing that voice mail.” She argues. Stella flits her eyes over to Beatrix’s phone, still on the ground next to her and grabs it. Her dignity is on the line, a hostage is only necessary. Beatrix catches on then closing the distance between them and tries to swipe her phone back, the attempt falls flat. But Stella resorts to a dirty tactic and raises her hand above her head.

She receives a pointed look in return, a hand on her waist and a deadly look in the shorter girl’s eyes. She arc’s up and kisses Stella again, just grazing her lips and denying any real contact. It’s a good come back strategy.

“Just the voicemail?” She asks again so nicely but with a devilish smirk hiding behind her pout.

“I’d rather the texts.” Stella admits in defeat, handing Beatrix her phone which puts a smile on the other girl’s face. Beatrix interlaces their fingers pulling Stella back towards the front door with a questioning tilt of her head. Stella folds, again, she’d much rather leave, the admission giving her the power to actually unlock her car this time, but another hour won’t hurt.

Another sweet smile from Beatrix lets her know she approves of this decision and hand in hand they return to reality.