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azzi’s in a hotel room in argentina, curled into a ball under her covers and reading one of her comfort books when it happens for the first time.
there’s a soft knock on her door, and she groans quietly at the interruption. she doesn’t feel like interacting with anyone, much less getting up and having a conversation.
“who is it?” she calls out, and it takes so much effort that she closes her eyes in annoyance.
no answer. the knock repeats.
“who is it?” she repeats, louder, projecting in a way that makes her sound mad as hell. she kind of is mad as hell.
“paige,” comes a low voice through the door, and all at once her edges soften and a nervous buzz starts in her chest.
she sighs at the thought of getting up, but the idea of an expectant paige behind the door spurs her into action. she quickly marks her page and sets her book down, throwing the covers off of herself and swinging her legs out of bed. her hips crack loudly as she crosses the room, and she prays that paige can’t hear it through the door.
as she opens the door, she sees her blonde friend attempting to lean nonchalantly against the opposite wall, arms crossed and expression faux chill. she snorts, making eye contact with her, and paige’s whole face lights up in a brilliant smile.
azzi’s always sort of loved that one smile she does, the one where her eyes flatten and her gums show, and her heart flutters in her chest at the sight. she feels her cheeks warm, and can’t help a nervous smile from making its way onto her lips in return.
“what?” she asks, voice cracking. neither of them comment on it.
paige kicks herself off the wall, crossing it so that she stands in front of azzi. azzi’s hyper-aware of the fact that she’s just a bit shorter than the older girl, eyes level with her pinkened lips, and she forces her gaze upwards.
“i dunno,” paige shrugs, “just wondered how you were doin’. y’know, cause you’re up here all alone.”
azzi chews the inside of her lip, suddenly feeling self-conscious. she remembers what she was just doing and the reason for it, and simultaneously thinks about how her hair must look like a wreck from laying down and reading.
her hands shoot up to smooth it down, and she steps aside to let paige into the room. “i just wanted to read,” she lies, letting paige see the book placed on her pillow.
in actuality, azzi feels like shit. she’s already the youngest player on team usa, and though she’s friendly with most of the girls, she’s only friends with paige.
at dinner, the rest of the girls had proposed a group hangout in aliyah’s room later in the night, but the idea of walking down by herself into the room and having everyone’s eyes on her had made azzi feel nervous as all hell. when paige had gone directly to aliyah’s room after dinner and before the hangout, carrying over their conversation, azzi had been left out on the side.
yeah, she’s friends with paige, but paige is extroverted beyond belief– she’s friends with most of girls on the team. azzi can’t really blame her for not hanging around to guess at azzi’s whims and moods, and she doesn’t begrudge her for it. she just feels– well.
she’d figured that nobody would come looking for her, and she’d quietly slipped out of the dinner and headed back up to her room. and she’d been right– nobody had come looking for her. which had made her feel even worse.
she’d earned her right to be here just like everyone else had. she’s an unequivocal part of the team, and she’s heavily valued on the court. but when it comes to the extra stuff, the hangouts and dinners and snapchat streaks and nightly facetimes, azzi’s– left out. she doesn’t want to intrude on anyone else, so she doesn’t. and nobody besides paige really talks to her, anyways, so why force it?
“you wanted to read instead of coming down to hang?” paige asks incredulously, face scrunching up in confusion. she flops down onto azzi’s bed like she owns it, her gangly limbs sprawling across the crisp comforter.
azzi flushes, sitting down quietly down next to her. “i dunno, i–” she starts, “yeah.”
she sounds dumb and she knows it. she cringes to herself.
paige props herself up on her elbows, straightened blonde hair falling into her face. “it’s not the same without you,” she says honestly, offhanded but earnest in the way that only paige can manage.
azzi searches her brain for a viable excuse. “it’s just, y’know. a lot of energy in that room,” she forces a laugh, forcing herself to look away from paige. she fixates on a chip in the wall paint.
“that’s exactly why you gotta come down,” paige replies easily, “calm the energy. neutralize.”
azzi laughs for real, then, shaking her head. “maybe.”
“c’mon, azzi, what’s so good about this book? you literally read it last month. and when you were reading it then, you said you’d read it before that, too.”
and oh. paige remembers the book. paige remembers what she’d said about the book.
“it’s the sequel,” she lies, for no reason, and paige fully sits up, then.
“no, it’s not,” paige argues, her competitiveness fully overtaking her politeness, “it’s the same color blue. and it’s got that title about the bird.”
“they just look similar.”
“yeah, cause they’re the same book,” paige throws her hand out. azzi hides a smile, feeling herself relax a little. the light bickering is a rhythm, a pattern. it’s how their friendship works, and the weight of loneliness begins to ease off of her shoulders.
“you can admit you got it wrong,” she shrugs, and paige scoffs.
“you’re literally lying, bro.”
“i’m not lying. and it’s a good book,” azzi says simply.
paige rolls her eyes. “whatever,” she grumbles, side-eyeing the offending object. “c’mon. wanna head back down with me?”
azzi hesitates a fraction of a second too long, and paige’s brow furrows.
“you have all trip to read your book,” she frowns, “everyone’ll want to see you tonight.”
azzi is quiet again. paige’s head tilts.
“but,” the blonde says casually, tapping her hand on azzi’s thigh, “if you just wanna chill here, we can do that. but we have to put on a movie or sumn, ’cause i’m not readin’ that big ass book over your shoulder.”
azzi’s mouth suddenly feels a little dry, and she feels a little lightheaded.
“but–” she struggles to comprehend, “you’d leave– no, i don’t want you to leave everyone else. they’re expecting you back.”
“yeah, but if i go back, i’ll be thinkin’ about how you’re up here all alone still, so i may as well just stay here.” paige says it so casually, like ditching fifteen of her friends to hang out with azzi and do nothing even though azzi had already said she wanted to be alone was just a normal thing that anyone would do.
and, well. azzi doesn’t want to go, but she really doesn’t want to hold paige from socializing with her friends, regardless of the fact that it would mean that she got to spend time alone with her.
the words fall out of her mouth without her even really thinking about them. “no, it’s okay, i’ll go down.”
paige shoots to her feet in surprise, whirling to face azzi with wide eyes. “really?” she coughs. “i mean. are you sure? you want to?”
azzi wants whatever would make paige the happiest, but she can’t admit that to herself nor can she articulate it, so she just nods.
paige extends a hand to azzi, a goofy grin on her face, and azzi stares at her for a second too long before tentatively placing her palm in paige’s grasp. paige smiles even wider at that, wasting no time tugging her up and turning towards the door. their fingers tangle softly for a moment, casual, before slipping apart as paige grabs azzi’s keycard from her nightstand and opens the door.
as she steps outside, a fresh wave of anxiety swells within azzi’s stomach. she bites the skin of her bottom lip, and paige glances her way for a half a second. azzi starts thinking about the awkwardness of knocking on the door, of having fifteen pairs of eyes turning her way and wondering why she was so late, and her knees start to feel a little bit–
“bro, you know what i’ve been thinkin’ about recently?” paige interrupts her thoughts, slightly louder than she needs to. azzi blinks, looking over at her as they slowly walk down the hallway to the elevator.
“getting an ipad,” paige finishes, and azzi makes a face.
“you already have a phone,” azzi reminds her, “and a laptop.”
“yeah, but it would be so much more convenient for watching movies.”
“you could just get a dvd player. ipads are expensive,” azzi snorts, pressing the elevator button.
“i’m gonna make money in college, though, trust,” paige promises, “it’ll be nothing in the long run.”
the elevator doors open, and azzi shakes her head as they both step inside. “overconsumption,” she chides, and paige’s arm brushes against her own.
“someone’s gonna buy it, it may as well be me,” paige grins, and her smile looks a little crooked but kind of perfect nonetheless, and azzi stops herself from saying that’s not how it works so she can stare at paige’s mouth for a second longer.
the elevator moves down a floor and opens, and they step out. azzi barely has time to collect herself before paige is knocking on the closest door, a gentle hand on her back.
aliyah swings the door open. her face splits into a smile as she sees the two of them, but before she can say anything someone yells from behind her.
“is that–”
“finally–”
“azzi!” a shriek rises up from half the girls there, all clamoring over each other and shooting to their feet. they dash towards her, giggling, grabbing her arms and dragging her to the floor to sit.
azzi blinks, wide-eyed, at the reaction, and looks back at paige.
the blonde girl smiles softly, her hands shoved into her pockets. they stare at each other for a second, and azzi feels her heart thump before she gets swept up in her teammates’ excitement.
and she still feels a little nervous, but now her chest feels lighter and not like it’s caving in, and the tension in her shoulders dissipates as paige saunters over and plops down next to her like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
paige knocks her shoulder against hers in silent reassurance, but doesn’t look over. something in azzi feels like it’s tingling.
oh, she thinks to herself. this is what it’s like to be included.
__
azzi’s in the backseat of paige’s mom’s chevy, windows rolled down to let in the hot summer breeze, when it happens for the second time.
azzi’s known paige for about two years now, and apparently the fact that they text so much that azzi has to buy more storage because she refuses to delete the thread qualifies her for a free ride on the bueckers annual beach trip.
paige let lauren sit in the front seat so that she could be next to azzi in the back, and she’s got her window rolled all the way down so that the highway breeze is whipping her hair across her face. she looks so relaxed, so at peace, and the sight of her settles something low in azzi’s stomach.
azzi’s staring at her kind of funny, and paige is completely oblivious, and azzi keeps replaying the events of the day in her head like a film reel that doesn’t turn off.
scene one: they’d been at the beach for a couple hours of the late morning, sun growing warmer with intensity, and azzi’s skin had just begun to feel the edge of the rays permeating it that signaled that she needed to reapply her sunscreen.
azzi toweled off her saltwater-damp limbs. paige was already pink around the cheeks and nose in the way that made her look flushed and heady, and azzi’s head sort of spun every time she looked at her. but paige had already reapplied her sunscreen, and was building a sandcastle with lauren with the wet sand near the waveline.
azzi popped open the cap of spf 50+ that paige’s mom had insisted they bring (“it’s a misconception that people with darker skin don’t burn, the UV will cause skin damage and cancer risk either way”) and kneaded it into her thighs, her arms.
she found her gaze wandering over to paige as she massaged the cream into her stomach; to her surprise, paige and lauren were no longer alone.
a few girls had come up to paige and were talking to her, giggling at every third word that left her mouth. paige’s posture had gone smooth, relaxed, a confident grin making its way over her face. she looked the girls directly in the eyes as they talked, and azzi didn’t know if that made her mad or if it made her glad that paige wasn’t looking at their cleavage.
she exhaled through her mouth, ripping her gaze away at paige’s mom’s chuckle.
“lots of girls have been recognizing paige everywhere we go now,” amy laughed from her beach chair, looking down the bridge of her nose at the little group. “it’s cute, but it’s very strange.”
and, fine. paige had mentioned it offhandedly to azzi on the phone a couple times, but seeing it in person was disconcerting. paige wasn’t a celebrity. she was paige.
“here, sweetheart, let me get your back,” amy stood up, reaching out her arm for the sunscreen. the motion must have drawn paige’s eye, because in five seconds flat she was right there and grabbing the bottle from her mother’s hands, frowning.
“we’re supposed to be sunscreen buddies,” paige complained, posture already completely different from when she’d been talking to the girls. she ushered her mom back to her chair, wet hair dangling limply down her back.
“if you insist,” amy said dryly, sitting back down. paige grinned, turning azzi around with a gentle hand and stepping close to her back.
azzi hissed as paige started slathering it onto her neck. “shit, p, it’s cold.”
paige laughed, head falling into the skin of azzi’s shoulder. “it’s like a million degrees out here. there’s no way it doesn’t feel good,” she said softly. and it was something that made azzi a little nervous, how paige had an azzi setting that was reserved for only her, and it was something that made her a little scared.
“whatever,” azzi sulked, letting the blonde smooth her hands in broad circles around her back. “just remember to get–”
“the edges, az, i know,” paige interrupted, running her hands up the sensitive skin of azzi’s sides to make her point. azzi hummed in acknowledgement, pointedly ignoring the way her core seized at the touch.
out of the corner of azzi’s eye, she saw the girls walk past, sneaking glances at paige the whole way. something kind of evil twisted in her gut, and she tensed.
“you got a fanclub?”
“maybe. you jealous?”
“maybe.”
paige laughed, like it was the craziest idea in the world that azzi had anything to be jealous of. “nah, it’s sweet and all, but i’m happier to spend time with you. it’s our beach trip. we’ve been planning it for months.”
“it’s your family’s girls-day beach trip,” azzi corrected, “that you’ve been asking me to come along on.”
“tomato, potato.”
“it’s tomato, tom-ah-to.”
“whatever. you gonna get back in the water with me, or you wanna read your book?” paige asked, turning azzi back around. she had a line of sunscreen on the edge of her thumb, and she dragged it along azzi’s collarbone and stroked it into her skin. azzi’s breath caught in her throat.
it was kind of funny, azzi remembers thinking, that paige could have all the girls in the world, but somehow she wanted azzi.
scene two: paige and azzi had been sent out to bring back beach food, and had stopped in a shop that sold pizza and saltwater taffy. they’d decided to eat their own before heading back, swinging their legs off the wooden benches and tucking bits of taffy into each other’s mouths.
the radio was playing some god-awful cover of jimmy buffett’s margaritaville, and azzi desperately wished that they were both twenty-one so that they could sip frozen drinks on the beach. the last piece of taffy that she’d had was a little too sweet, sickeningly so, and clung to her molars so that she had to wrench her teeth apart to talk.
and azzi can’t remember how they’d gotten there, but she remembers paige looking at her with her big eyes and saying, “my mom thinks i’m not happy enough because i’m always in my room. she doesn’t like that i’m always on the phone with you.”
and oh. azzi didn’t know how to respond to that, blinking back at her and starting to feel guilty for taking up so much space in paige’s life.
“i–” she started, “are you happy enough?”
paige kept her gaze steady, unwavering. “yes,” she said, no hint of a smile on her face.
“then that’s all that matters.”
paige let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through her messy beach waves. “i wish we were at the same school. it would make everything so much easier. we wouldn’t have live off of facetimes.”
“the facetimes are nice,” azzi said quietly, and paige rushed to defend herself.
“they’re great, azzi, but–” she gestured around, “this is perfect. i don’t want to have to be on the phone with you all the time. i just want to hang out with you normally.”
“if your mom isn’t happy with us facetiming so much, we don’t have to–”
“no, az,” paige cut her off, “i’m the happiest when i’m talking to you, i swear.”
“well, it might be nice to have other sources of happ–”
“i do. i have lots of sources of happiness. like my ipad. you’re just you, azzi,” paige said, so matter-of-fact that azzi felt her breathing still for a moment. “mom will get over it.”
azzi hesitated. “well, if she doesn’t– i’ll still be here.”
it was kind of funny, azzi remembers thinking, that paige is one of the busiest people that azzi knew, but somehow she would rather spend her time talking to azzi.
scene three: it was mid-afternoon, and the clouds had started to roll in over the sand. this made it significantly easier for azzi to read her book, but significantly harder to get a tan. it also made her fucking cold, which she got teased about relentlessly.
“azzi, it’s literally eighty degrees outside,” paige laughed at her, shoving her shoulder.
“there’s a wind chill! it’s a cold wind!” azzi defended herself valiantly, trying to burrow into the soft fabric of her beach towel. amy and lauren joined in making fun of her, and the three of them started to go back and forth with each other.
out of the corner of her eye, azzi saw paige get up and rummage through her bag. she ignored a last remark from lauren, closing her eyes and trying to will the clouds away. if she couldn’t see them, they weren’t there. she just had to revert to newborn baby levels of object permanence, and she’d be fine. she was at least halfway there when a soft fabric draped over her shoulders, and her eyes shot open.
paige was laying back down on her own towel, eyes closed as she attempted a nap, and her gray zipup sweater enveloped azzi’s torso. it blocked the wind immediately, and a rush of warmth flooded azzi’s body before she could register it.
“you’re too nice,” lauren giggled, poking azzi in the side, “she’s fine.”
“paige, is that your sweater?” amy asked, and paige frowned.
“obviously, it’s my sweater, it has my name on it,” she grumbled a response..
“i didn’t see that, paige, that’s why i asked.”
“azzi, you have black sand on your legs,” lauren interrupted, and azzi looked down. she sighed upon confirmation of the accuracy of the statement, reluctantly getting up and sauntering over to the shoreline. she waded into the water, bending over and cupping it in her hands to get the excess sand off her knees.
the water level got lower, all of a sudden, so azzi stooped a little deeper, balancing a bit more precariously.
that was a mistake, unfortunately, because as azzi had so unhelpfully forgotten, water level getting lower means wave, and a huge one crashed into azzi’s stomach and knocked her down onto her butt.
her cheeks flamed with embarrassment as she scuttled up and back to her towel. she felt so guilty about the drip of the water from the sweater to her feet, taking it off and trying to wring it out before paige opened her eyes. she set it out on the back of an empty chair, and cautiously laid back down on her towel, feeling sort of miserable for ruining paige’s sweater that she’d so graciously lent her.
“what took you so long, az?” paige mumbled, and azzi startled. she whipped her head around to look at paige, but paige’s eyes were still shut.
“i’m so sorry,” she blurted out, “i got your sweater wet in the water.”
“s’fine,” paige murmured, unmoving.
azzi blinked. she didn’t care?
“happens to the best of us,” paige finished, rolling over and going still, “i’ll wash it later.”
it was kind of funny, azzi remembers thinking, that paige loves to bicker, but somehow she never accidentally makes fun of azzi for something she feels bad about.
and truly, it’s a pretty stupid thing, current-azzi thinks, that paige seems to have a seventh sense for whenever azzi feels bad.
and even now, sitting in the car hours later on the highway as the sunset casts an orange glow on the world, azzi looks at paige and feels completely unafraid.
oh, she thinks to herself. this is what it’s like to be accepted.
__
azzi’s in some stupid club with x’s on the back of her hands, feeling increasingly like going out with the team was a horrible idea, when it finally makes sense to her.
“she keeps looking at you,” caroline whispers into the shell of her ear, and azzi shakes her head.
“no, she isn’t.”
and azzi’s aware that she’s kind of staring, and that she looks pretty pathetic, sitting in a booth on the second floor that overlooked the first just so that she doesn’t have to dance with everyone. but who can blame her, really? it was a long day, and she’d really just wanted to go home and take a shower.
like, a really long shower. one that would probably get her thrown in jail if she lived in california during a drought.
but no, aaliyah turned twenty-one, and had insisted that everyone come celebrate with her. canadians were much more party prone than azzi had previously given them credit for. and maybe azzi would be enjoying herself, but she didn’t know the music they were playing, but paige did, and she’d gotten swept up with nika and aubrey and kk as soon as they walked in without even getting a drink first.
hence, azzi is sitting on her own. with caroline. on the second floor. pretending like she isn’t spending eighty percent of her time searching the crowd for a head of blonde hair.
“she literally is,” caroline argues, gesturing down. azzi follows her hand to where she’s pointing, and paige is very definitively not looking at her.
“it doesn’t even matter,” she grumbles, resting her chin in her hands. she takes a sip of her non-alcoholic piña colada. it tastes like shame.
“will you just go down there?”
“i’m not leaving you up here alone,” azzi argues.
“tell nika i want her to come up, then. or i’ll go with you and bring her back up,” caroline replies, rolling her eyes.
azzi’s gaze scans over the crowd again, but she can’t find paige’s head.
“azzi, seriously,” caroline snorts, “you can’t just pout up here all night.”
“i’m not pouting! i’m just tired.” she could pout up here all night. if she wanted.
“you look like someone pissed in your piña colada.”
“i look like–”
“azzi!” paige’s voice travels over the crowd, and half the upstairs turn their heads to see the blonde coming up the stairs with a wild grin, cheeks flushed.
azzi stands before she registers it, ignoring the knowing smirk caroline was giving her.
“hey,” she says, a little breathless, as paige barrels into her and wraps her in a hug.
“you okay up here?” paige asks, pulling back and blinking down at azzi. she looks genuinely a little concerned, and suddenly azzi feels stupid for ever thinking that paige wouldn’t consider how she was doing. “you look tired.”
“i’m good,” azzi responds immediately, and she finds that she means it as paige’s hands travel from her back down to her hands, taking them in her own.
“c’mere, mami,” paige tugs her into another hug. and that’s new, recently, the mami and the baby and the pretty and the near-constant touching. azzi can’t say she doesn’t enjoy it. she swallows, melting into paige’s grasp.
“we’re gonna ask the dj to play mary j blige for you,” paige mumbles into her neck, and azzi suddenly feels hot. “you wanna chill here w’me, or you wanna come down?”
because of course paige is giving her the option. she looks back at caroline, flustered, who’s raising an eyebrow and hiding a smirk behind her drink. she gestures at azzi like, go, and azzi bites her lip.
“i’ll come down,” azzi tells her, and paige’s face lights up like, azzi doesn’t know, something bright and nice. her brain feels a little mushy. and then paige is leaning over and pressing an excited kiss to her cheek, and caroline is making a strangled noise because that’s new, too, and then paige is pulling her back down the stairs and she’s following like a fucking lovesick puppy.
“fudd! fuddy fudd!” kk yells across the room, and gestures wildly for her to join them. azzi smiles, being welcomed into the group enthusiastically.
true to paige’s word, the group writes play mary j blige on their phone screens and holds them up towards the dj until he plays her, and paige is saying this would be easier on my ipad because the screen is so big and azzi is rolling her eyes, and then azzi is moving in a way that would be a little more fun drunk but she can’t find it in her to care.
paige goes and grabs a drink and azzi is dancing with aaliyah, and flo milli comes on and everyone is screaming never had a WHAT, and azzi is having so much fun that she forgets that she was ever feeling off to begin with.
a warm body presses into her back, and she knows the lines of it too well to startle. all of a sudden aaliyah is gone, and kk is turning around to talk to someone, and nika heads upstairs to see caroline, and it’s just her and paige in the middle of the dancefloor.
paige’s hands find her hips and she rolls them, paige’s breath hot on her neck. she doesn’t let herself think about anything, just moves and lets herself feel, and paige spins her around and she puts her hands around paige’s neck and brings them forehead to forehead.
“having fun, baby?” paige smiles, and she smells fruity and sweet, and azzi slots their legs together so that if she were to roll her hips again, she’d be rolling them against paige’s upper thigh.
she nods, a laugh bubbling up from inside of her and spilling out, and paige doesn’t know what she’s laughing about but laughs with her, and azzi feels so fucking happy.
and they’re swaying to the music, and paige picks up her drink and lets azzi chug it, and azzi’s mouth is so, so cold as she leans in and kisses paige’s cheek herself. and paige startles, because, yes, that’s new, usually it’s paige who does the kissing, and is immediately kissing azzi’s cheek again as soon as azzi draws back.
azzi giggles, like a damn middle schooler, and says, “i love this song!”
paige blinks, like she hadn’t been listening to the song whatsoever, and then blinks again when she registers what song it is. it’s this new sza song that azzi hadn’t known existed before last week, when paige played it for her in the car, and unbeknownst to the older woman she had listened to on her own so many times that she’d probably streamed it more than her.
“you– i showed you this song,” paige manages.
“yeah,” azzi nods.
“and you know the words,” paige continues.
“correct.”
paige looks at her a little desperately, a little violently, hands tightening on azzi’s hips, and azzi flushes all over again. she lets her face fall into paige’s shoulder and starts dancing again, hyperaware of paige’s thigh between her legs.
even though not twenty minutes ago she’d wanted to go home, wanted to go shower and sit under her covers and mope, she feels a little insane. there’s just something about being wrapped up in paige that soothes the ache in her bones, settles her stomach, and takes away her nervousness. there’s just something about paige that feels– comfortable. normal.
and azzi really wants to do it. she raises her head, letting her eyes fall to the glossy pink of paige’s lips, and paige’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second. she wants to do it so fucking bad, and paige’s fingers twitch at her sides, and azzi feels so warm and her breath gets caught in her throat and all of a sudden she’s leaning in and kissing her.
and sweet lord, their lips are moving against each other, paige is kissing her back, and azzi’s fingers are threading through her hair and they’re making out, they’re making out in this club, and azzi feels so scarily light that she briefly worries that she might float away.
paige squeezes her waist, drags her hand up azzi’s back and pulls her closer, and azzi kisses her harder. the bass is beating through her chest, and maybe azzi has her problems but azzi also has paige, solid as a rock and holding her down to earth.
they pull away eventually, breath soft and eyes full to burst with tenderness, and azzi’s face splits into a huge smile.
paige makes a little noise in her throat before she presses her lips back to azzi’s, and it’s almost pathetically cinematic the way that everything else melts away as azzi’s mind goes oh, oh, oh.
oh, she thinks to herself. this is what it’s like to be loved.
