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—————
Amy
Lunchtime without Molly was strange.
It wasn’t like Amy didn’t spend time without her best friend every once in a while.
It was just strange.
Sitting alone was strange. Not talking about new government policies while eating her lunch was strange. The occasional looks from classmates when they wondered where her other half had gone was strange.
Molly had some meeting with Nick about an upcoming school fundraiser, which she had been strangely excited for considering it was with Nick of all people.
Not having a whole lot to do, Amy simply people-watched.
A way in front of her, Tanner was skating around without a shirt on, in classic Tanner style.
To her utter disappointment, she couldn’t see Ryan with the skaters today. The one day she could stare openly and not be teased by Molly, Ryan wasn’t even around. What bullshit.
Her mind was swiftly distracted by George and Alan, who were waving their hands at each other as they argued over some theatre production across the courtyard.
She didn’t mind their bickering though; it was a source of entertainment for her.
What was getting on her nerves however, was the group of boys sitting a bench or two behind her right shoulder.
She had heard the snickers and half-hidden whispers: all derogatory and disrespectful.
However one voice stood out louder when using insults, as the mismatch group of troublemakers and jocks around him snickered. His voice was easily recognisable even from a distance; Amy knowing it all too well after dealing with it for so many school years.
Corey. An incessant bully since grade school, and a real pain in the ass.
But it wasn’t long before lunch was over. She could make it just a few minutes longer if she didn’t pay them any attention.
“Gaymy!”
Ignore them. Pretend you don’t hear them.
“Gaymy! I’m talking to you.”
She heard thudding footsteps coming in her direction. Great.
Amy’s whole body tensed as two heavy palms landed on her shoulders.
“Couldn’t you hear me, Gaymy?”
She tried squirming slightly but Corey’s grip stayed strong. He leaned over her shoulder from behind, attempting to make her look him in the eyes.
“What do you want?”
“Ooh, vicious today. Where’s that girlfriend of yours, anyhow?”
“I don’t have a-”
“So… speaking of you being a dyke… how would you feel about a threesome?”
Amy was beyond disbelief, yet somehow saw this coming.
So quick to escalate, she knew this would only end in trouble. Looking around quickly, it seemed no one could see the predicament she was in.
She cleared her throat. “I like girls, Corey. Only girls.”
“Nice.”
“What do you-”
“Come on, surely I get to see some of that girl on girl action.”
Corey’s hands tightened even more, making Amy wince at the pressure. She looked down at her lunch tray.
Don’t interact. This isn’t your fight. Not against a six foot tall football jock.
“You're going to ignore me now? Don’t be shy, dyke, I just want to talk.” Leaning over her shoulder his grin resembled that of a shark, running chills down Amy’s spine.
Simultaneously, they both heard purposeful footsteps coming towards them, but while Corey quickly looked up, Amy kept her head down.
She heard the boy give a small scoff, loosening his hands slightly as he addressed someone in a sickeningly sweet voice.
“Well if it isn’t my two favourites. What can I do for you, beautifuls?”
“You need to back off.”
—————
Hope
“All I’m saying is that he’s kind of cute.”
“Mhm.”
Hope was only half listening, nodding and making noises of agreement whenever her friend paused.
“And… he may have invited me over tomorrow night.”
“Okay.”
Annabelle frowned at her lunch. She knew Hope hated the guy. “You’re fine with that?”
“Yeah.”
She looked up at the evidently distracted Hope, following her line of sight all the way across to… ah, of course. Amy Antsler.
She grinned. “I was thinking I might kidnap him while I was there.”
“Cool.”
“Auction him off on the dark web.”
“Uh huh.”
“Might spend my night with Amy instead.”
“Sounds go- wait, what?” Hope’s head turned faster than humanly possible, making Annabelle break into a laughing fit.
“You know, when people made the term useless lesbian, they were actually just describing you.” She wheezed.
Mumbling something under her breath, Hope turned back to look at Amy.
“I don’t see why you don’t just talk to her. Never mind, I take that back. You just insult her whenever you talk. Which isn’t a very good strategy for getting her to like you, by the way.”
“Something’s wrong.”
Hope could see it straight away. Someone was hovering over the smaller girl, making her cower under his gaze. She could tell exactly who it was by the blue and yellow varsity jacket and greasy dark hair.
“You’re telling me! Just talk to h-”
“Not with me, with Amy.”
“How is this her fault? You-”
Grabbing Annabelle’s head with her hands, Hope swivelled it to look in Amy’s direction.
“Is that Corey?”
“The one and only.” Hope scoffed in disgust.
She was on her feet. No way this was happening on her watch.
Before she could get around their table, Annabelle had a hand on her arm.
“H, I know what you’re thinking, but please-”
“Can you not see how uncomfortable she is? If I don’t go now no one else is going to help her.” Hope looked directly at her, a mixture of sadness and determination on her face. “Just like last time.”
Annabelle nodded, letting go of her. “Just… don’t do anything stupid or rash.”
Both making their way over to the bench, Hope smirked. “When have I ever?”
Surveying the scene, Hope picked up on a few things; Corey’s hands on Amy’s shoulders, the group of boys laughing a short distance away, and most importantly, the wince on Amy’s face when the jock said something to her.
This just fuelled the building fire in her gut.
Glancing up, Corey noticed the two girls quickly approaching. “Well if it isn’t my two favourites. What can I do for you, beautifuls?”
Hope nearly gagged. He had always been a slimy weasel.
She decided to say it plain and simple. No good using big words against an idiot like this.
“You need to back off.”
—————
Amy
“Back off? What from?”
“Leave her alone.”
Amy thought it was just a dream.
Not the part where Corey was intimidating her. That was normal.
More so the fact that Hope was defending her. The Hope.
“Who? Gaymy?”
Amy let out a squeak of pain as his grip tightened suddenly on her shoulders again.
Hope must have noticed this, her eyes darting from Corey’s hand, to Amy, then to the boy’s face. Her scowl deepened.
“Let go of her.”
“Aw, am I hurting your girlfriend?”
Hope stepped forward, pushing directly into the boy’s chest with a surprising amount of force.
Even Corey himself was shocked. Startled by the push, his hand left Amy’s shoulder as he was knocked off balance.
“How about you go back to your little group, and kindly fuck off?” Hope snarled.
“Come on, sweetheart, there’s no reason to hit me. What did I ever do to you?” He winked at her, every ounce of cockiness displayed on his face.
Hope’s eyes darkened in an instant, and Amy could practically feel the rage radiating off of her body.
“No reason to hurt you? Really? I could think of a million right now.”
“So sensitive, damn.” Corey made to move back towards Amy, but Hope stopped him before he could get anywhere near her.
“I said,” She stepped forward again, punctuating her point by forcing her hands into his chest “Leave. Her. Alone.”
Amidst the chaos, Amy had a fleeting thought: Hope was sort of hot when she was angry. But then again she was always hot.
Wait.
Since when was she attracted to Hope?
Sure, she may be tall, mysterious, have a face chiseled from literal marble-
Amy. Focus your impossibly gay ass on the situation. Hope is trying to defend you.
Hope.
Hope.
Hope with the dark eyes and full lips and-
Oh, for the love of God. Focus.
Annabelle gestured at Amy to get up, then reached out to Hope, tugging on the sleeve of her jacket. “Let’s go, H.”
The girl shook her head. “I told you. Not again. Not like last time.”
Amy wondered what she meant, but had no time to ponder it.
She wrestled her things into her backpack, not particularly wanting to stick around if things got ugly.
Hope and Corey were staring each other down, waiting for the other to make their move.
Corey’s eyes flickered to where Amy was slinging her bag over her shoulder.
“Don’t leave yet Gaymy, we were just getting started.” He winked at her suggestively.
God, she hated this guy.
“Keep calling her that and we’ll see where it gets you, asshole.” Hope threatened.
“I don’t get it, why are you even defending this fucking fag—”
The slur was knocked from his mouth. Along with a tooth or two.
Amy hardly even saw Hope’s fist fly up.
Faster than lightning, swinging up and around, she had connected with his face without hesitation.
Corey had been hit squarely across his upper lip and nose, head dropping as he tried to hold his smashed face.
Fuck.
Jumping from her seat, Amy knew things were about to go down.
“Hope!” Annabelle cried.
People had heard the commotion, a few watching from surrounding tables.
Amy watched as Hope grabbed the collar of the boy’s football jacket, leaning in low to whisper in his ear.
“Say that again. I dare you.” She growled.
Amy saw a flash movement as Hope’s words were uttered, but not in time. She had barely croaked out her name when the girl was struck in the face.
“Fucking bitch!” Corey yelled as his fist swung around.
He managed to land two hits; one between the side of her chin and bottom lip, and another across her cheekbone.
Faster than she’d ever moved before, Amy was by Hope’s side, clutching her as the taller girl wobbled slightly from the blows.
Her lip was busted, blood dribbling down her chin and a mark already starting to form along the line of her left cheekbone.
Amy saw Annabelle wrap her arm around Hope’s waist from the other side, both sharing a nod, as they attempted to pull Hope back from the escalating situation.
The boy’s friends had gathered around behind him, cheering and yelling at his recent assault.
“I normally don’t hit girls, but I’ll make an exception for you lesbians.” Corey jeered, obviously riled up from seeing the damage he had inflicted. Blood dripped from his busted nose, giving him an even scarier demeanour.
Amy could feel Hope trying to move, to be released from her and Annabelle’s steady hold, but she wouldn’t have it.
“When I said back off, I wasn’t fucking joking.” Whatever blood had been pooling into her mouth was promptly spat in Corey’s direction.
Amy was amazed: two blows to the face and Hope was still talking a big game, ready to go again.
Avoiding the spat blood, Corey stepped into her personal space, looking her up and down. “You really thought this time would be any different? Always trying to stop me and look what happens. You’re weak.”
Bearing her red-stained teeth, the taller girl let out a guttural yell, ready to let her fists fly.
“I’ll kick your ass, son of a bitch!”
She ripped out of Amy and Annabelle’s grip, latching her hands onto Corey’s shoulders. Bringing her knee up swiftly, Hope had hit him right where it hurt most.
Howling in pain, her opponent was doubled over before her.
Amy had never seen this side of Hope. She was full of blind rage, blood running down her chin onto her iconic leather jacket and white t-shirt.
Hope looked rabid as she kneed his stomach, open wounds and newly forming bruises adorning her face.
Amy had to stop her before she literally killed him.
—————
Hope
He deserves it. Every punch. Every kick. Every wound.
That was Hope’s mantra as she continued to drive her knee into Corey’s stomach and lower region.
For Annabelle. For Amy. For me. For every other poor girl who’s had to deal with you.
She could feel a pulsing sensation in the cut across her lip, could feel its warmth dripping down her chin. Her breath was coming out ragged and in short, sharp bursts. Despite this and the nauseating pain in her jaw, Hope never stopped her attacks.
Not until she felt two pairs of hands pulling at her from behind. She fought against their grip for a while until she realised it was futile.
Blood once again filling her mouth at a rapid pace, she spat it out at the wounded boy’s feet.
There was a little voice in her head telling her she was weak to stop, weak to let him get away without more pain.
But another voice told her it was over. That she had proved her point.
Looking over her shoulder again, she saw Corey struggling to get up while cradling a bloody nose.
He assumed she was weak. Oh, how wrong he was.
—————
Annabelle and Amy had taken her to a bench seat on the other side of the courtyard, far away from prying eyes and anyone wanting revenge.
They checked her for a concussion before stepping away to talk privately.
Though she could have listened to their conversation if she strained her ears, Hope was too busy with her own thoughts.
Should have had a plan, Hope. Should have hit him harder, Hope. Should have thought about the consequences, Hope.
She grumbled, trying to shake away the voices.
Some back part of her brain registered the bell signalling end of lunch. Luckily, sitting in a secluded area meant not many people would walk past her concerning state on the way to their last class of the day.
Feeling blood trickle down her chin again, she subconsciously lifted the collar of her t-shirt up to stem the bleeding. Stung like a bitch to say the least.
Her mind was racing but her eyes were drawn to the same person who had gotten her into this mess.
Amy was nodding as Annabelle talked, both frequently looking back at her injured form. Hope had to quickly avert her eyes every time, so it wouldn’t look like she was blatantly staring at the girl.
Trying to flex her fingers back and forth, Hope watched as Amy smiled at her before promptly hurrying away to another building.
The look of disappointment at the girl’s departure must have shown on Hope’s face, as Annabelle was already reassuring her before she had uttered a word.
“Don’t worry, she’s just gone to get you some ice.”
Hope sighed, possibly a bit too loud as Annabelle giggled at her relief.
She sat down next to her, reaching out to inspect her injured hand.
“How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” Hope responded with more bite in her words than she intended. She paused for a second before continuing, “Belle, I’m sorry, I should have stopped when you said. It was stupid of me to-”
“You hit him with everything you had?”
Hope nodded.
Annabelle patted her knee, looking at her with a sad smile. “That’s my girl.”
They sat in silence for a moment before Amy rounded the corner, bag of ice and plastic cup in hand.
Hope winced a smile at the girl as they were handed to her.
“Did you have to beat up the nurse to get an ice pack? I hear they guard these things like offspring.”
Annabelle kicked her foot, shooting Hope a look.
But to both of their surprise, Amy laughed lightly.
“Maybe, but I learned from the best after all.” She giggled.
Hope had to look at the floor quickly to stop herself from blushing. So Amy had a cute laugh. Sue her.
Using the edge of her shirt, she tried wiping away some of the drying blood under her chin, but there was no doubt more where that came from.
“A-are you ready to get going?” Amy squeaked slightly.
Hope looked up in confusion. “Get going?”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. We didn’t think you were in any state to go to class, and Amy has a free lesson right now, so she offered to take you back to her place and get all your battle wounds fixed up.”
Hope could see the sparkle in Annabelle’s eye as she said it. She stared blankly at her friend.
Annabelle knew what she was getting Hope into. That sneaky bitch.
“I-If that’s okay with you of course, Hope.” Amy stuttered.
She nodded slowly. “Yeah… thanks.”
Annabelle grinned, jumping from her seat. “Well then. If Amy’s got you covered, I had best be going. Subjects to study, things to learn, or whatever the hell I’m meant to be doing.”
She helped Hope to her feet, pulling her into a quick hug.
“Consider it a favor, dumbass.” The girl whispered.
“Just know that if I could, I’d punch you so hard right now.” Hope seethed through gritted teeth.
Before Hope could make true of the threat, Annabelle moved to hug Amy quickly.
“Make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid. Like she promised before she got her face caved in.”
“Whatever.” Hope grumbled.
“Mm, love you too, loser. Call me if you need anything.” She winked before walking back towards the main block of buildings.
Hope’s face contorted in disgust when Annabelle blew a kiss to her just before she was out of sight.
Now they were alone. Just as awkward as each other.
Hope quickly downed the cup of water she was holding so that she at least had an excuse for not talking.
“So… car?” Amy fidgeted with her backpack straps.
—————
Amy
She couldn’t believe this.
One minute Corey was asking her invasive questions, the next she was discussing with Annabelle how best to deal with Hope’s current bloodied state.
In the passenger seat next to her, Hope rearranged how she was sitting, subconsciously letting the icepack fall away from her face.
“Keep the ice on.” Amy started, eyes not faltering from the road in front of her.
Hope quickly rested the bag back against the bottom of her face as instructed.
“You really don’t have to, you know.” The girl insisted as Amy pulled up at a red light.
She shook her head, looking across at her. “Really, it’s the least I can do.”
Though it was extremely awkward, there was some sort of mutual contentment in the shared silence.
The traffic lights flickered green, Amy pushing the car forward again.
“Are your parents going to be concerned when they see the Valley Strangler’s crime scene walk into their house?”
Amy smiled. Hope’s sense of humour was dry and blunt, but she enjoyed it. When she wasn’t in the directing firing line, that is.
“They’re out helping with the church’s production tonight, so they won’t be home.”
“And your wife?”
Amy shot her a look. “Molly and I are not together.”
“Calm down, I’m just messing with you.”
As she slowed down to turn into the driveway, Hope craned her neck around.
“Nice place.”
—————
Amy stared at a small speck on the kitchen counter. It wasn’t particularly interesting by any means, but it made it look like she had a reason for not talking to Hope.
She didn’t mean to be rude, not in any sense of the word. She just didn’t know what to say.
What could you possibly say to a girl who basically tormented you everyday since her arrival in sophomore year, then turned around and took punches for you?
Hope leant against the island bench across from her, looking around to take in the house.
Amy watched with surprising interest when she tipped her head back, jawline more prominent as she drank the last of her water.
They stood silently, both at a loss for words, until Amy finally found the courage to ask her.
“Hope?”
“Yeah?”
“I-I don’t want to be intrusive, so please, you don’t have to answer this if it makes you uncomfortable. Before… you both said something about last time. Has Corey… Did he…?”
Hope sighed, and Amy had half expected she would refuse to say open up. Talking openly wasn’t exactly what Hope was known for after all.
“I haven’t told many people about this actually. I don’t think Annabelle even knows the whole story.”
Amy’s eyes widened in surprise as Hope cleared her throat, setting the now empty glass next to her.
“Belle and I separated at a party one night. Not out of the ordinary, but she didn’t come back after a while. She had had more than enough to drink throughout the night, adding to my concern. I walked around the house, opened every door until I found her: just about passed out on a bed while Corey hovered over her, mid-way through unzipping his pants. I didn’t say anything, just ran in. I grabbed Belle, half-carried her out the door. He grabbed me, tried to persuade me she was fine, that she wanted it. Then he called her Triple A, told me she was ‘just a dirty slut anyway’. I lost it. Still holding her, I punched him. Only problem was that he punched me back. Twice as hard.”
She paused for a second as if saying so much at once had taken a toll on her. “Do you remember when I came into Miss Fine’s class one morning with a black eye?”
“I remember I asked you if you were okay, and you told me to go fuck myself?” Amy hummed, raising an eyebrow slightly.
Hope rubbed the back of her neck. “Oh, uh, yeah… sounds like me. The bruise was a warning apparently. No clue what he was warning me of though.”
She laughed humourlessly, a dark expression crossing her face. “I know other people would have seen him taking her away, but none of them stopped her. Not a single person thought that it seemed odd.”
Amy didn’t know what to say exactly.
“That’s… fucked.” She put it simply.
Hope let out a breathy chuckle. “Completely fucked.”
Amy tasted her words before saying them, not wanting them to sound accusatory.
“This was for Annabelle too, wasn’t it? You wanted something back at him.”
Hope’s eyes dropped slightly, jawing clenching. She nodded slowly, almost regretfully.
“No matter who you were protecting, you made a statement that’s for sure,” Amy laughed nervously, “And if there’s one thing I respect more than standing up for what you believe in, it’s fucking with the patriarchy.”
Hope regained her signature smirk, letting out the slightest of laughs.
“You really have a way with words, don’t you, nerd?”
She looked up at Amy, trying to find something unknown in her eyes.
When she found no falsities in Amy’s words and expression, she smiled.
And this time Hope was smiling sincerely at her. She had no mockery and no judgement behind that smile anymore.
She had laid her heart open for Amy to inspect and judge, left herself vulnerable in steady trust.
A leap of faith to see if Amy reciprocated this new found friendship of sorts.
—————
Hope
The intimacy of one’s bedroom is often overlooked. It holds parts of you that tend to be hidden from the outside world.
Amy’s room was no different. Mementos of past events were everywhere: protest signs stuck wherever there was space, photos with Molly taped to the wall, even little stuffed animals on a shelf.
Hope felt… comfortable here. Safe, even.
How could she not when she had just admitted her life’s woes and worries to this girl.
She watched absent-mindedly as Amy rummaged through a draw of clothes, pulling out a baggy, olive-colored sweatshirt.
She was startled back to reality as the material was gestured towards her hands.
“It’s no infamous leather jacket, but at least it’s not covered in blood.”
“Please, Antsler, my shirt is fine.”
Amy looked up at her sternly. “You said it yourself; you look like a murder scene. And anyways, it’s cold. Just put this on, okay?”
Eventually Hope smiled at her (as best she could with a split lip), accepting it gratefully.
Following Amy out of her room, she was taken to a little bathroom just off of the hallway.
She nodded her thanks, and was left alone as Amy shut the door behind her.
Hope stood there for a little while, staring at herself in the mirror.
The shorter parts of her hair had fallen out from behind her ears, framing her bruised face like a solemn painting. The cut across her lip wasn’t bleeding freely anymore, but her face and hands were covered in dried blood.
Looking down at her jacket and shirt, they were no better off; red drip marks lined the front of them both just as Amy had described.
She knew the stains would come out easy enough, but something inside her was a bit disappointed at the sight of her jacket dirtied.
She yanked both items off, folding them up neatly before slipping Amy’s shirt over her head.
It smelled like Amy.
Or was that weird?
Hope didn’t know, but she liked it.
She jumped slightly as a knock sounded against the door.
“Can I come in?” A timid voice came from the hallway.
Hope opened the door for her, pretending to show off the new garment she wore as Amy stepped in next to her.
“It suits you.” The girl smiled.
Hope. Stop it. It was just a compliment.
Amy didn’t notice her quick freak-out, luckily, passing her a small towel instead.
She picked up Hope’s neatly folded jacket and shirt, holding them in her arms as she jumped up to sit on the bathroom counter.
Something about Amy holding her jacket felt so intimate.
To distract herself, Hope ran the fabric under the tap. She started to wipe off the blood crusting her chin, slowly turning what was a light blue hand towel a shade of red.
Amy stared at her the whole time, which was mildly unnerving.
“Something wrong?”
The girl reached out to point to something on her face.
“You’ve… there’s a little bit-”
Hope thrust the towel into her hand, moving closer so Amy could reach her.
The girl stared blankly at her for a moment before realizing what she was meant to be doing.
Reaching out a hand, Amy held Hope’s shoulder, guiding her further towards her.
Hope prayed that the hitch in her breath wasn’t audible, as she realized Amy had guided her to stand in between her legs.
The girl cupped one side of her face, running the damp towel across a spot of blood she had missed along her jawline.
They were eye to eye, Hope trying her best to keep her breathing even.
When Amy finished, they stayed in the position a second or two longer than they probably should have. Not that either of them seemed to care.
Hope cleared her throat, taking a step backwards. This seemed to clear Amy of whatever trance she was in, jumping off the bench in too much of a hurry.
“I have a, um, first aid kit.” She motioned to the cupboards above the sink.
Leaning up, she opened it easily enough, but Hope watched as the shorter girl tried in vain to reach the contents on the shelf.
Stepping forward, she leaned over Amy. Retrieving the box for her, Hope’s free hand conveniently rested on the base of the girl’s back.
She felt Amy’s body physically stutter.
So she did have an affect on the girl. Good to know.
Hope brought her hand down, hovering the box of medical supplies in front of Amy’s face.
Amy grabbed at it quickly, mumbling her thanks.
Hope stepped back, almost shocked by the small blush she saw when Amy turned back around.
“S-so, do you want to, uh, just sit on the floor, or-”
“Whatever works for you. You’re the doctor here.” Hope tried to smile sincerely at her, wishing her comments weren’t so sarcastic.
But Amy giggled, seeming to have regained some of her composure from Hope’s light joke. “Don’t tell anyone I’m running an illegal surgery here.”
It was new to her, but Hope liked it when they could joke back and forth.
“Do you even have a license to run this operation?” She questioned in mock concern.
Amy widened her eyes dramatically before breaking into a small burst of laughter.
Smirking, Hope lowered herself to the cold tile floor, resting her back on the bottom sink cupboards.
Amy mirrored her actions, sitting cross-legged in front of her. The kit was laid out in between them, the smaller girl retrieving a bottle of antiseptic and cotton swabs.
“I’ll check your hand first?”
Hope nodded, as the girl shuffled towards her.
Amy took Hope’s bruised hand in her own, turning it over slowly.
Her knuckles were slightly battered, and the inside of her palm had crescent-shaped cuts from where her nails had dug in.
“Tell me if anything doesn’t feel good, okay?”
She nodded, only acutely aware of what she was being told, more so focussing on how Amy’s hands felt holding her own.
Antiseptic was dabbed across the cuts on her palm. It stung slightly, but not enough to cause pain. And not enough to disturb her train of thought.
“Hope?”
Her mind was finally pulled back to the surface. “Mm?”
“People are going to talk, you know.”
Amy retrieved a small roll of bandages from her first aid box, wrapping it around Hope’s hand with experienced ease and care.
“About what?”
“That you beat someone up.”
“Let them talk. Their opinions mean nothing to me.”
“What about Principal Brown?”
“If it gets to Principal Brown, I’ll explain exactly what happened. I’ll probably get punished or something, but, you know, it was for a good cause.” She smirked.
Amy nodded, a smile gracing her face. “You’re really brave, you know?”
“What makes you say that?”
“I didn’t even stand up for myself when Corey was insulting me. He was right there, saying all these things and I just… sat there. I guess I’m just meek.” She didn’t meet Hope’s eyes, her expression dropping to disappointment.
Hope scoffed. “You are not meek. I’ve seen the photos of you at protests. I’ve seen you stand up for people you didn’t even know. Hell, you’re even publicly out.”
Amy looked up quickly.
Hope had just slipped that last bit in there accidentally. Fuck.
Hoping Amy wouldn’t catch onto her, she hastily changed the subject.
“So, does this illegal doctor’s clinic specialise in helping people? Or is it more of an illegal counsellor’s clinic?”
Amy rolled her eyes. “Depends on how annoying the patient is.”
“Annoying, huh?”
Amy giggled. “Lucky for you, I’m feeling generous.”
She reached for more cotton swabs from her first aid kit.
“How kind of you, doctor.”
“Is it okay if I check the cut on your lip?”
“Be my guest.”
This was the part she was dreading.
Not so much the wound, but more so Amy being so close to her face.
She closed her eyes as Amy reached out, skimming across the underside of her lip with the swab.
Feeling her suddenly back off and making noises of uncertainty, Hope opened her eyes slowly.
“Something wrong?”
“I just can’t reach around. Is it… is it okay if I sit across you?”
Hope’s eyes widened.
“Uh, yeah, sure.”
Bringing her leg around, Amy was then straddling her outstretched legs.
“Are you sure it’s okay?” She giggled nervously.
Hope managed to mumble a yes, desperately trying to shield how she was actually feeling.
Amy just smiled at her, raising the damp cotton swab to Hope’s face again.
“Don’t move, okay?”
So she didn’t. Scared her uneven breathing would give her away, Hope stayed as fixed as she could.
Amy noticed her death-like stillness, smiling slightly. “It won’t hurt much, I promise.”
Oh, Amy. Poor, naive Amy. If only she knew the thoughts running through Hope’s head had more to do the proximity of her face, not the stinging of antiseptic.
“I just tried fighting a jock, I don’t think your noodle arms are going to do much to me.” She smirked.
Jesus, Hope. Real good at this whole flirting thing, aren’t you?
Amy tilted her head, an expression of challenge crossing her face.
“I’m noodle arms now? Have you seen your lanky body?”
“Touché.”
Hope grinned widely, remembering her split lip all too late. Pain shot through at a rapid rate, but she held onto the noises bubbling from her throat.
Amy’s eyes widened quickly, evidently knowing exactly what was wrong. “Hope!”
She reached up to check, and to her relief, no blood came away.
Amy’s face was painted with deep concern, her eyebrows furrowed and lips drawn tight.
“I’m fine, Antsler. Look, no blood.” She extended her hand as if it were any proof it caused no pain.
Amy still looked worried, despite Hope’s reassurance.
“You just need to be more careful.” The girl reached out, fixing one of Hope’s necklaces.
And the butterflies were there again. From such a simple, delicate gesture, Hope felt her stomach twist in a million different ways.
Amy’s features softened as she stared at her, before she quickly cleared throat and averted her eyes.
“Is it okay if I keep going? I-If not I can stop-”
“Whenever you’re ready.” Hope smiled at her (slightly more warily this time).
Amy nodded, bringing the cotton swab back to her lip. Hope could feel how delicate and precise she was in her motions, trying to bring her the least amount of pain possible.
She then watched with interest when Amy faltered slightly, eyes staying fixed on her lips.
She frowned slightly. “You okay, nerd?”
“Y-yeah, just got a bit… distracted.” A blush set across the girl’s cheeks as she looked anywhere but Hope.
“Distracted?”
She saw Amy’s eyes flicker back to her lips then up to her eyes.
“Sorry.” She whispered, busying herself with retrieving a new swab from the medical kit.
Hope was stuck in her own head as Amy’s small hand came back to tend to her wound.
Was that look…? Was it… something? Was Hope pushing something, projecting it even?
Amy looked up at her again, a nervous smile across her features.
And, God, she could study the freckles across Amy’s face they were that close, a constellation no telescope had pondered upon, but still a constellation with infinite wonders.
It was silent for a few minutes as hand cupped the side of her face that wasn’t injured, holding it with gentle force as more care was directed to her lip: enough time for Hope to have noticed Amy’s blush growing, and probably visa versa.
Amy set down the medical supplies but she herself didn’t move, still on Hope’s lap, still so close to her face.
“Thank you, Hope. I mean it.”
Hope shook her head but Amy cut her off before she could protest.
“I meant what I said before. Going in head first like that, it was…”
“Dangerous? Reckless? Yeah, I figured.”
She noticed that Amy’s eyelids were heavier than before, eyes dropping downwards every so often.
Was she reading this wrong? Was it not at all what it seemed?
Amy shook her head, her words coming out a whisper this time. “Brave.”
Hope looked into her eyes, words not coming to mind.
The girl seemed to want say something, but nothing was coming out longer than two syllables.
“You- …I just- …Is this-”
Then Amy pushed forward, pressing her soft lips against Hope’s.
Hope couldn’t comprehend words. It was beyond belief. But she didn’t pull away.
Her hand found the back of Amy’s head, fingers playing mindlessly with the short hairs at the nape of her neck.
But even an eternal bliss never lasts forever, despite the name.
Hope whimpered when Amy’s eagerness brought slight pain to the cut on her lip. Just her fucking luck that something so perfect would be interrupted by her stupid injuries.
She felt Amy backing away, but despite her best efforts of unspoken reassurance, the girl managed to pull away quickly.
“Amy, it’s fine-”
“Your lip, Hope, I don’t want to hurt you!”
“It would hurt more if you stopped kissing me.”
“Never knew you were the cheesy romantic type.” Amy giggled against her lips.
She smirked. “Never knew I’d end up making out with you on your bathroom floor.”