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Three years.
It had been three years since, after Willow moved away from Hawkins to New York to attend art school, her contact with Michelle cut off.
It wasn't Michelle's fault - but not Willow's, either - at least not fully.
Both of them had, before Willow left, tearfully said their goodbyes - We'll call, they said, we won't lose contact again.
But, as the months passed and the memory of Hawkins slowly faded away, so did the contact with Michelle.
What had begun with daily calls and weekly letters, turned into monthly calls and maybe a letter every three months as time passed.
In her very last letter Willow had written, she had ended her letter with the words she didn't dare say over phone anymore - I miss you. I hope we'll see each other again soon.
She'd never gotten a response, and without realising it, the call they had the week after would be the last they would have for years.
Willow moved on.
Or, she tried to - honestly, if you had been in love with a person as long as Willow had, it was hard to ever stop - and she tried, god, she tried.
She went out to bars, though, she never drank anything - the alcohol left a taste in her mouth that brought her right back to when her mother still lived with them - she joined clubs at college, made friends, and didn't immediately reject people that hit on her - to no avail.
She had a girlfriend for a while, meeting her a couple months after arriving in New York.
Carla was what everyone would describe as the perfect girlfriend - sweet, attentive - but she was also ignorant, not understanding why Willow disliked the cold and the dark, why she froze up around people that were drunk and loud, why she, despite it all, called her dad everyday without fail.
(Even after months, Willow couldn't stop comparing her to Michelle. The guilt ate her alive everytime.)
They broke up one Sunday morning, after Willow had refused to go to the club with Carla the night before.
“We just don't match.” Carla had said.
You're too much, wasn't said, but Willow knew that's what she'd meant in the end.
Foolish.
To think someone could actually love her.
Willow had stopped trying much after that.
She just hoped that, after everything, she'd at least manage to get over Michelle Wheeler - her heart ached every time she remembered the hole Michelle had left in her life, so she tried not to if she could help it.
Still, she ran to the bookstore as soon as Michelle released her first book about a year and a half ago, talked about it to Lucille and Darla, hell, she even talked to Nathan - ever since he and her sister got back together again, she saw him more often - and supported Michelle.
Silently. From afar.
It's all she dared to allow herself to have.
-
It was April - past Michelle's birthday now, making them both twenty-one - when she got the call.
Her sister.
Jeanette had, almost innocently, started smalltalk - but Willow was not stupid. She knew very well her sister was hiding something, but she didn't call her out on it.
She didn't need to, anyway, because Jeanette spoke up herself.
“So…you know Michelle's first book got really popular and famous, right?” She said, almost casually.
Willow froze.
“Yes..” She said, slowly, blinking at the wall. Of course she knew - she'd kept track all these years. “Why are you asking?”
“Well,” Jeanette started. “Her new book will be released soon, and when it does she'll do a book signing for it in New York.”
Willow's mind blacked out.
She had known about the second book, how could she not?
But Michelle coming to New York?
She swallows, her mind racing.
Why now? She knew Willow lived here, why would she voluntarily come here? Or, maybe she didn't, and her label forced her? Did she even have one? Maybe it was her manager instead?
Maybe it wasn't even about Willow at all, maybe Michelle had met someone again, after James death, she'd definitely deserve it-
She forces her thoughts to a halt, realising that she hasn't been talking and now, she knows Jeanette will know something is up - she'd always known, even then.
“Oh- that's, um- when?” She rambles, pressing the phone to her other ear, chewing on her bottom lip.
“Next month.” Jeanette says. “I'm not sure when the exact date was, but I think Nat said something about the fourth.”
Willow lets out a shaky breath, making sure her sister wouldn't hear her.
“Oh..okay.” She almost slaps herself, because, who the hell talks like that??, but Jeanette speaks on before she can follow that thought further.
“Well, I thought you'd like to know.” She pauses, as if leaving Willow a second to collect her thoughts. “You think you want to go? You'll get the new book and meet Michelle again, wouldn't that be nice? You two haven't seen each other in so long.”
Yeah, because we literally don't even talk anymore either, Willow thinks bitterly, but she doesn't say it.
“Yeah, it would be nice to see her again.” She agrees instead. For her, yes it would be, but there would also be pain, knowing her love was so strong and intense without release. And maybe, Michelle didn't want to see her either. But, if she did, Willow would take on this pain, as long as she could be the person Michelle smiled at again.
(She wondered if there was someone else she smiled at, now that Willow was gone.)
The conversation stirred away from the topic, going on about their daily lives instead, speaking about meeting their dad again, since they hadn't had time to do so for a while, and finally ended the call around an hour later.
Willow was torn.
Her heart yearned to see Michelle again, even if only from afar, even if Michelle didn't want to talk and all she'd get would be a signature on a book and an awkward Thank you.
Willow sits down on her couch heavily, eyes staring on the framed picture of the party hanging on her Wall.
She'd never get over her, would she?
In her heart, she had known for so long, but she suppressed it, thinking it was getting better, but-
Faced with the possibility of meeting Michelle again, she knew there never was a getting over her at all. There was ignorance, there was forgetting, there were lies. But never that.
Getting over Michelle was impossible, and for that alone Willow needed to see her again - get in contact again, talk to her again, be her best friend again-
Because, maybe selfishly, she'd die if she never got to do these things again, and Willow would take all she could, be as close as she could, and suffer for her entire life if that's what it meant.
-
It was still a while until the fourth - about two weeks, still, and about one and a half until Michelle's second book would drop - and she already found herself unable to focus on school and her art at all.
The Michelle Wheeler effect, she supposed.
Every day of school was hell, she barely functioned properly and the anxiety ate away at her the closer the fourth came.
When Michelle's book finally released, she stood in front of the closed bookshop for half an hour until it opened, just to be able to hold it in her hands.
Willow skipped school that day, reckoning she wouldn't have gotten anything done anyway, and sat in her living room instead, staring at the book on her coffee table.
On the front were a Paladin and a Cleric, side by side, engulfed by light, so soft and glowing but steady, and she almost cried on the spot.
She couldn't get herself to read it. She couldn't, all she could was stare and cry.
Was this about them? Did it mean Michelle still cared?
Or, perhaps, Michelle had found another Cleric.
A nice boy, maybe, similar to James but not quite - Willow refused to believe anyone could be as good a person as James had been - someone she liked more than Willow.
Feeling the need to talk to someone, she had called Max later that day.
Max and her had gotten closer - writing letters, calling regularly, all of it.
Max had been the first one to understand Willow was a lesbian - he had pulled her aside once, shortly after he woke up.
“Listen.” He had said. “I know that's hard to speak about, but - I know. I know. And, it's okay. If you ever say it it is, if you never do it's okay too. We will always be friends.”
He had looked at her with such an honesty in his eyes - Willow had understood then, that he really knew, always had, and knowing he would support her through it all made her insanely grateful for the friendship she had with him.
Regardless, he was the only one, except for Jeanette, maybe (and Lucille, the way she stared sometimes or carefully asked questions about Michelle made her think she knew, sometimes) who knew she had a crush - no, was in love with Michelle Wheeler, and though he judged her taste, he vowed to help and always have an open ear for her.
Just like today.
“Oh hey Willow.” Max's voice sounded through the phone. “Been a while since our last call, hasn't it? What's up?”
And Willow had told him. About the call with Jeanette, the book signing, her crisis, the book currently staring at her from her table.
Max had, as expected, grounded her first.
“Okay, breathe.” He said, sternly, but not in a mean way - the party had always joked that she and James had always, maybe besides Lucille, been Max's favourite people.
“We're not going to have a panic attack about Michelle Wheeler now, okay?” Max started, but his tone softened after.
“Do you feel comfortable going to that book signing alone? You know me and Lucille both would drive over if you need some emotional support.”
Willow laughs, tears gathering in her eyes, but she blinks them away, playing with the hem of her sweater.
“Max, you two go to college in California.”
“So?” Max just responds. “You're our friend. Especially Lucille would jump if you asked her to be there.”
Willow shakes her head with a smile.
“Charming offer, really, but no. It's okay, I can do it, I just- I can't get myself to read the book. But I have to before I go because I- wouldn't it be awkward otherwise? What if it's awkward in general? We haven't had contact in years what if-” She rambles, and she knows it.
“Okay, no, stop.” Max shuts it down.
“Listen. It's okay no matter if you read the book or not - I doubt Michelle will ask that first and foremost. Secondly, have you ever seen how you two interact? Since you were children too - it won't be awkward, trust me. Just be yourself, and it's fine.”
He pauses.
“Well, and if not, I'll personally drive over there and tear her a new one.”
That gets Willow to laugh - actually double over in laughter, leaning against the wall to stabilise herself.
Max sounds awfully smug as he keeps talking. “I'm taking that as permission.”
Willow shakes her head with a soft smile.
“Thank you, Max.”
“You're welcome, Willow.” Max's voice goes softer now, too, and Willow feels her heart swell - she knows, even if Michelle will never love her in the way she wishes her to, she knows she has the best friends and family she could ask for.
They talked for a while more - Max told her about her recent college days (Willow already knew most of it, as they did call regularly) and tried his best to distract her from worrying about Michelle.
And, when they hung up nearly two hours later, Willow did feel lighter.
Yes, she was still anxious, yes, her brain could barely focus on anything else, but - talking with Max helped her understand that it'll be okay. She wouldn't go through it all alone.
-
It would still take her until Friday evening, the day before the book signing, until she was able to open the book.
Her hands trembled, but she forced herself to read it - Michelle's first book had been a story based on one of their campaigns, adding all roles of the party.
Willow loved it - of course she had - but she couldn't help but cry, too. The nostalgia had hit her straight in the gut, and she was too tired to pretend it didn't bother her.
Now, Michelle's second book was- different.
Completely, if Willow was honest.
Because this time, it wasn't about the entire party at all - it was a story completely about the Paladin and the Cleric.
Just like in the first book, the Characters had no names - but they did have pronouns, and they were both feminine.
Willow felt as if cold water washed over her as she realised.
The book wasn't romantic explicitly, though Willow felt like a lot of the times, it almost felt like it.
Almost.
She was scared to hope, because it had died in her chest so many times she feared for it now.
It was a journey, reading as the Paladin and the Cleric travelled through the lands together, in the search of a family heirloom belonging to a royal family back in their hometown.
They met many people, lived through many action filled but also sweet and tender moments, when Michelle allowed the two characters to rest, found the heirloom and in the end-
Willow didn't realise she was crying, until her tears dropped onto the last page of the book, where the Paladin and Cleric vowed to stay in each other's lives forever.
She sits, frozen, but staring at the page until the words are blurred.
They had said this. The day Willow left, and they said goodbye - they uttered these words, promised to stick together no matter how far apart they were.
Was this a coincidence?
Willow couldn't breathe, closing the book with a sob. The hope and the pain from all the times this hope had died sat in her chest, making her heart hurt, and the pain from every time she had missed Michelle returned at once.
She wanted to run right now, run to the bookstore and wait until Michelle would be there, but she forced down the urge.
It was ten in the evening, and at this rate by the time Michelle actually arrived at the bookstore, Willow likely would've frozen to death by now.
She shutters at the thought.
She gets up, legs shaky as she walks to her bedroom. She knew she wouldn't get anything done now, she might as well go to bed and hope sleep would take her quickly, so the night would pass faster - though, she also feels her anxiety rise back up at the thought.
Willow shakes it away at the best of her abilities, slips into pyjamas and sets her clock to two hours before the book signing - the bookstore wasn't far away, but still, she wanted to get ready, look as good as she could.
It would take two more hours for her to toss and turn in her bed, until sleep would finally claim her.
-
When Willow awakes the next morning, it's about ten minutes before her clock is set to go off - still, she's wide awake immediately, so with a shaky sigh she turns the alarm off and slips out of bed.
She feels too anxious to even consider eating, so she just brushes her teeth and freshens up, before ending in front of her closet.
She stares at her clothes, frozen.
What is she supposed to wear, actually?
Willow tends to wear sweaters, both oversized and not, jeans sometimes but usually skirts, but all of it feels too common. Too ordinary. She wants to look special - even if she was, technically, only seeing Michelle for five seconds in a book signing.
Almost panicked, Willow tears through her closet. Everything she holds in her hands feels wrong, nothing like what she wanted to wear when finally meeting Michelle again - last time they'd seen each other, Willow hadn't been able to stock up on her clothing style as much as she did now - and she gets more anxious the longer it takes her to find something.
She's already on her way to turn to just make a beeline to the phone and call Jeanette - she doesn't live far, after all - until her eyes catch on one of the few dresses she owns.
Willow, in her defence, rarely wears them - she likes them, but for some reason she usually preferred skirts - but this was a special occasion, after all.
She grabs it and pulls it out - it's cute, a little past her knees, plaid, in a yellow and brown color scheme. It even has a round, high neckline with white lace sewn to it - sure, its sleeves were short, but she knows she has a cute, white cardigan laying around somewhere she could wear over it.
It feels right, it truly does, and it helps her breath even out, so she goes with it.
Not long after, Willow stood fully dressed in front of the mirror, adding a bit of Make up. She wears soft looks, if at all, so a soft pink lipstick, with similar blush color and a yellow eyeshadow should suffice.
She doesn't bother doing her eyelashes anymore - they're naturally curled up a bit, and a nice enough dark colour she doesn't want to use anything.
Then it's time. She grabs her bag, a brown one a friend from college crotchet for her once, and steps to the door after placing her keys and Michelle's book inside of it.
Willow has, give or take, surely thirty minutes left to get there - and she doesn't plan to be the first one, either. She wants time to talk to her, maybe, so she'd rather be towards the end.
She almost feels sick, but forces herself to open the door.
Don't be scared now Willow. Just do it for once.
She manages the walk in record time, standing in front of the bookstore twenty minutes later. There's a queue already, so she just places herself behind them, almost shaking with anxiety.
She tries focusing on the people around her, watching them - most seemed to be around her age, honestly, which made her feel a little less out of place.
Some were younger, sure, but she had expected that so she didn't pay it any mind.
Time moved slowly. So slowly, in fact, Willow considered taking the book out and reading it right then and there - but even she wasn't that desperate.
(She absolutely was, she was just too anxious to focus on actually reading or doing anything.)
Then the store was opened, and the people flooded inside.
As she waits, Willow takes the book out and grabs at it almost desperately. She's not even inside the store yet, and she's a bundle of nerves.
Her hands tremble so she pulls the book closer to her chest to hide it, forcing herself to take a deep breath.
“Nervous?” An elderly woman behind her asks, and Willow jumps, before turning around.
“Oh, um, yeah- I really like her books.” She rambles, wanting to slap herself at the way she said it.
But the woman only smiles and nods, before turning to someone behind her and Willow just awkwardly turns back around.
When the line had moved forward enough that Willow could step into the bookstore, she felt her throat close up.
There she was, sitting behind a table in the back. Her hair was longer than Willow remembered, laying on her shoulders, but it was still as wild and curly as ever. Her style had changed too - she couldn't see her pants behind the desk, but she wore something white - presumably, a T-shirt - and a blazer over it, more masc leaning than Willow remembered, and she felt her cheeks go red at the sight.
Michelle.
She was smiling, a little awkward but with a confidence she didn't fully have when Willow left, and she shuttered. She wondered, briefly, if that meant Michelle's life was better without her.
Maybe it was.
But, the book in her hands made Willow clear her head, letting out a breath.
She shouldn't think this - these were thoughts left in the safety of her apartment. Not when she was literally about to meet her again - she didn't want this to be tainting that memory in the end.
Michelle hadn't seen her. Willow knew she hadn't, because she hadn't looked in her direction once, and though awkward and nervous, she was too relaxed for that to be the case.
In any case, Michelle was very focused on who was directly in front of her - there was no time to be looking around, and Willow was glad for it.
The more the queue moved forward, the more anxious she became.
What should she even say?
Hello?
Willow shakes her head.
She'd just- what everyone else did. Maybe, linger around outside the store after her turn was over, wait until the signing itself was over, maybe Michelle was open to talk after-
It was her turn sooner than she realised.
Michelle was still smiling at the person whose turn it had been before Willow, but started speaking before she looked back.
“Hey! So nice to meet you, what's your-” The words die in her throat when her eyes meet Willow's.
Her entire face changes, no longer looking relaxed though awkward, but instead almost pained, a devastation in her eyes Willow couldn't place, but still, in a way, hopeful all the same.
“Willow.” She said, voice shaking. Michelle looked as if she were on the verge of tears, suddenly, and Willow felt her chest tighten.
“Hey, Michelle.” She smiles at her, a little weakly, before softly placing the book she'd been cradling to her chest on the counter.
Michelle grabs it, almost on autopilot, and opens it, though her eyes never leave Willow's face.
“You're- here.” She says, then, grabbing her pen again and moving towards the pages, though she doesn't move it further.
“I am.” Willow agrees, and smiles a little at the awestruck expression making its way onto Michelle's face.
“Could you sign my book then, please?” Really, Willow would've loved to stand here even longer and just look at the expression on Michelle's face, but unfortunately there were people behind her and they likely wouldn't be happy about it at all.
“Oh- yeah, of course, sorry I- I just can't believe- you're here!” Michelle rambles, quick and fast and she lowers her eyes to the book and quickly writes in it.
Willow giggles, fondness for this girl - no, woman now - almost overflowing in her chest.
“I don't live too far from here.” She says, taking the book back as Michelle slides it over to her again.
Michelle is staring still, almost wide-eyed. Her breathing is a little shallow, now, but Willow tries not to think about it too much.
Before anyone can say more, the elder woman behind Willow coughs, and Willow is reminded how they're not the only ones in the store.
She grabs the book quickly, and smiles at Michelle again.
“It was nice seeing you again-” She starts and moves to step away, but Michelle interrupts her with a sort of urgency Willow wasn't used to.
“Can you- please, read what I wrote in the book immediately- don't- don't do it at home, okay?” She speaks so fast Willow almost can't understand her (a lie, she always would), so all Willow can do is nod and step out of the store.
Just as Michelle asked, she moves to stand next to the entrance and opens the book.
On the page, a big sentence is written in Michelle's usual messy, but still somehow pretty writing.
Thank you for reading my book Willow ♡
Was the first thing she read, and as she flushes red and her hearts start to beat faster, she notices a smaller text a bit below the bigger one.
Wait for me after the signing is over please.
Her hands tighten around the book, and she presses it into her chest as Willow stares over the street, almost shaking.
People pass by her, leaving the store, but she doesn't pay them any mind - how could she?
Then, at last, the door opens and Michelle steps out, a little fast, hurried, eyes scanning the area, until they land on Willow and visibly relax.
“Willow.” She breathes out, a smile on her face again, body immediately less tense. “I was worried you'd leave.”
Willow tilts her head with a smile.
“Thats what you think of me?" She jokes, but then her face softens. “I wouldn't. I missed you, you know.”
Michelle's face changes, and she looks pained, suddenly. “Willow.” She just repeats, voice shaky.
Before Willow can say anything again, she's suddenly engulfed in a hug. Michelle's arms wrap around her waist, face in her shoulder, holding on to her tight, as if afraid Willow would vanish.
It only takes her a second to realise what was happening, before she moves to hug Michelle back, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. The hug tightens after that.
“I missed you so much.” Michelle mumbles into Willow's shoulder, and Willow lets out a shaky breath into Michelle's hair.
“Willow.” Michelle starts again. “I need to-”
Before she can continue, the both of them are hit with a decently strong force, and stumble to the side. Michelle's hands tighten at Willow's waist, keeping her steady, as they both stare at the man who just ran into them.
“Sorry!” He says, quickly, obviously embarrassed, and rushes away.
Willow blinks after him, before she smiles almost shyly.
“Ah…I suppose, talking isn't going well out here, is it?” Her voice shakes slightly, but she continues. “How about we- well, like I said, I don't live far from here- we can, um, totally go to my apartment if you'd like, and talk there.”
Michelle nods so fast Willow fears she'll break her neck. “Yes- yes, that would be great.” Her face is slightly flushed, but Willow assumes it's the embarrassment.
The walk back to Willow's apartment is as nice as it is awkward, as neither of them know quite well what to talk about.
Willow mentions some of the stores they pass by, tells some stories of things that happened around here to keep the conversation going.
Michelle responds, sharing stories of her own, but it's obvious her mind is elsewhere - perhaps, what she had wanted to say before the guy ran into them didn't let her go.
When they enter Willow's apartment at last, Michelle stops in the entrance, scanning her surroundings. From here, she could see the kitchen and half of the living room, and Willow winces internally realising that given where Michelle grew up, this apartment must pale in comparison.
“It's not the best.” Willow says apologetically, smiling at Michelle as she steps out of her shoes and places her keys on the counter in the hallway, then gestures behind her. “But, it's nice enough-”
“It's so pretty.” Michelle says, suddenly, eyes snapping back to Willow's face. Then, she smiles. “It fits you.”
Willow flushes red, but her smile widens. “Thank you.”
She turns towards her living room, and slowly walks towards it, speeding up when she hears Michelle's footsteps following her.
“You can sit down on the couch- do you want something to drink, maybe?” Willow speaks a bit faster, placing her bag on the side of the couch, suddenly embarrassed enough to not look Michelle in the eyes.
“Sure, some water please?” Michelle walks over, and Willow turns to leave just as she sits down where Willow instructed.
In the kitchen, Willow momentarily slumps down on the counter, taking a deep breath, before taking out a glass from the cupboard, and grabbing some water.
When she returns to the living room, though, she freezes. Just as Michelle was.
Michelle, frozen in place, was staring at her book laying on the coffee table. The first book. It was filled with little notes peeking out its sides, though not a single thing was damaged. Willow had taken it out when she went to read the second book, and forgot to put it back.
When she steps closer, Michelle's eyes fly back to her. Her eyes are intense, a silent decision in her eyes - Willow just didn't know what that decision was.
“We need to talk, Willow- I- I need to tell you something.” Michelle says, voice shaky but determined, and Willow feels fear. Raw, wild fear.
But she just nods, weakly walking over and placing water and glass on the table before sitting down facing Michelle, who had turned to her already, watching her with a look in her eyes Willow couldn't decipher.
“Okay, so, I- okay, fuck, I've never done this before, let me just-” Michelle sits up straighter. “We've- I know, we haven't had contact for about two years, and, I know you're gonna say it's not, but it is my fault. It's- really difficult to say, but I was dealing with things, mentally-”
She cringes, which makes Willow smile briefly - she doesn't say anything, just listens and lets Michelle get it out.
“I need you to know that I was never your fault- I mean, it kinda was, but not- oh my god, why did I say that- not in the way you think fuck-”
Michelle breathes out shakily, blinking at the wall before looking back at Willow.
“I- okay, I need you to listen to what I'm about to say next, and don't interrupt me, okay?” She asks, her tone going a bit softer, though she still seemed greatly on edge.
Willow just nods, smiling reassuringly. “I'll listen to all you say to me, Mikey.” She, maybe out of habit, maybe to reassure her, uses the nickname she used to call Michelle when they were kids.
By the look in Michelle's eyes, this was the last push she needed. She leans forward a little, just barely, enough so that her face was close enough to Willow's that she can make out the little freckles on her face again.
“Willow Byers.” She begins, gravely but with determination. “In the time we've- in the time we've stopped talking, I've- thought a lot. And- okay, maybe it was Max who really forced me to face it, but- I don't like boys like I thought I did.”
Willow feels as if all the noise just stops. Her entire brain freezes. What. She stares at Michelle, who quickly continues talking.
“I- I never liked James. Not like that. I- it was too late, by the time I realised, and I hope I'm not too late now, but- my second book. I wrote it, because I finally understood who I was and who I loved, and I need- I need you to know.” She pauses, her voice barely able to hide her anxiety in her voice now.
“I love you, Willow. I think I always have, and I know it's been years, now, and you likely moved on, but, Nat said you haven't been in a relationship in so long and then you were in the bookstore and I couldn't just-”
Willow moves before her brain can catch up with what she was doing. She throws herself forward (not that she and Michelle had any distance to begin with) and before she can overthink it, their lips meet.
The kiss lasts for only a few seconds, because really Willow barely knows what she's doing, and Michelle is stiff as a board, and she panics.
“Sorry- I'm sorry I didn't- I should've asked if-” but before she could finish her sentence, Michelle had snapped out of any trance she was in, wrapping her arms around Willow's waist again to pull her closer, and kiss her back.
Willow has kissed before - well, only Carla, but she has - but not a single kiss before makes her feel like this. Their lips move against each other, Michelle's arms around her waist, Willow's around her neck, an urgency in their movements that felt almost desperate - and honestly, it was.
Michelle holds her as if she was scared she'd vanish, pulling her closer and closer, only breaking the kiss to suck in a deep breath before diving back in.
Kissing Michelle felt like what was described as heaven, and if Willow was to die now, she would happily do so.
She doesn't know how long they kissed like this, before Michelle starts peppering her face with kisses instead, before leaning her forehead against Willow's, staring into her eyes.
“I love you.” Michelle whispers, voice shaky but with a happiness Willow doesn't remember hearing from her in a long time. “I'm sorry it took me so long.”
“I love you too.” Willow whispers, tears in her eyes. When one escapes, Michelle gently moves it away with her thumb, placing a hand on Willow's cheek, silently encouraging her to speak.
“I- I'm sorry, I've loved you for so long, and I always thought I'd never get to have this, or get over you, and I-” Willow almost sobs.
Michelle pulls her into her shoulder, and Willow feels a kiss pressed into her hair. “Shh, it's okay.” Michelle mumbles. “It's okay. I'm here now, and I won't leave again, okay? I won't.”
Willow cries so hard her body shakes, but Michelle just gently holds her.
When she's finally done crying and moves to sit back up, Michelle smiles at her fondly.
“Haven't changed a bit, huh?” She asks, teasingly, before pressing a soft kiss to Willow's forehead.
She gently brings a hand to Willow's cheek, then, caressing it with her thumb as if this was the first time she was allowed to touch.
“That's fine, I love you for it anyway.” Michelle mumbles, almost to herself more than to Willow.
Willow flushes red. “Oh my god- you can't just- you can't just say that-”
Michelle snorts, her hold around Willow's waist tightening. “Sure can. And now I will continue, because I love you and you deserve it.”
Willow lets out a breath, because given she thought she'd never hear Michelle say this to her, hearing her say I love you over and over really broke her brain. And reminded her, that really, she didn't get as much sleep as she maybe should've.
Unfortunately, that also meant she had to fight a yawn - especially now, when she lost all strength in her body after the confession, her crying session (and, honestly, the kissing).
The look in Michelle's eyes goes unbelievably fond, smiling soft and warm and looking so domestic while looking at her somehow that Willow wants to die.
“What?” She asks, almost defensively, though it doesn't hold any strength and she isn't even able to look Michelle in the eyes fully.
Michelle just laughs again, a soft sound Willow is already addicted to. Oh, she's so done for.
“Darling,” Michelle starts and Willow, honest to God, just dies. “You're almost falling asleep right here. It's adorable, but I'd rather you wouldn't fight it. Come on, rest.”
She gently readjusts herself on the cough, pulling Willow over to have her cuddle against her, her left starting to gently play with her hair.
Willow blinks, managing to recover enough to speak.
“I- but- we haven't talked about everything, there's so much left to talk about, we haven't even established what we are and I- we-”
Michelle shushes her gently.
“Willow. Baby. We can talk later, it doesn't have to be now. To the second one…” She leans closer, so that Willow can feel her breath on her ear. “In case that wasn't clear, I want to date you. I want you to be mine, just as much as I am yours. If you'll have me.”
Willow shudders, and once more the arms around her tighten, almost subconsciously to them both. I'll always have you. I've loved you since we were twelve, I wouldn't be able not to.”
Michelle's body goes rigid, and Willow realises that she just admitted something she'd sworn she'd take to the grave with her.
“What.”
“Um- yeah. It's-” She can't speak actual words, to be fair, before Michelle outright crushes her with the hug she engulfs her in.
“I'm sorry it took me so long.” She mumbles into Willow's hair, but Willow's lost the ability to even feel mad at her long ago.
“Don't be. I'm just happy you're here now.” She almost yawns again as she says it, trying to hide it but failing miserably.
Michelle lets out a deep breath, pressing her face in Willow's hair.
“We're talking about this more after you wake up.” She mumbles. “But, rest for now. Please.”
Willow hums softly in agreement, cuddling up against Michelle's body and the arms holding her, and relaxes. It still felt surreal, but better than any scenario she's ever envisioned.
Right before falling asleep, she feels Michelle press another kiss into her hair.