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"You don't get to say that," growled Lorena, pushing off the asphalt with her knuckles and spitting on the ground. She drew her knee closer to her chest, shifting her weight onto the leg to slowly stand up. "You just can't."
Suzanna looked down at her; Lorena made her feel many things, some fluttery and some fiery—but at this moment, Suzanna felt it. Fear is what filled her gut, boiling and bubbling and making her feel sick. "I can do whatever I want," she said, but her voice betrayed an uncertain quality.
"But you can't leave!" she shouted—then she moved, and Suzanna's wrist was in her hand. "You're my friend!"
It shouldn't have made Suzanna freeze. She shouldn't have reacted to that at all; she should've kept walking, she should've just left right then and there.
But the universe said no, you will stay, and its strings which tied themselves to her heart pulled her to a halt. When Lorena tugged at her hand, the universe pulled at the strings, and Suzanna closed her eyes and let it happen.
No matter what, Suzanna could not look at Lorena's face. It was too unlimited, too expressive, too fascinating; it was a trap Suzanna was guaranteed to fall into. Waterlike eyes and a twitchy nose and mischievous mouth, really, it was all too much.
Suzanna was wearing neutrality, with a smidge of snobbiness. It was a Winchester classic, an heirloom passed down their bloodline: a gift. If she were look at Lorena, perhaps the wildness of her features would possess Suzanna's own, and taint her. Suzanna simply could not let that happen, thus, she could not look at Lorena. For certain, if she looked at Lorena, then the pillar she had built her life around would crumble in an instant.
So, Suzanna did not look at Lorena—nor Lorena. The latter could only stare at the back of her head and memorize the intricate stylings of its light blue shade.
She did not look at her, but she heard her—and damn it all, because Suzanna did not think that the words you're my friend should strike her core. Friend. My friend. My friend. You're.
Every word made her heart chime like a bell, but it stabbed through her chest like an arrow.
"You're my friend," cried Lorena, and Suzanna felt it again: the tugging, the pull, "so I'm not gonna give up on you! We'll figure it out together!"
How foolish. How naive. How Lorena.
Suzanna grit her teeth, wondering if this feeling would be enough to make her cry. "You keep talking like that, and you'll get killed. God, what would you do without me?"
"Does… that mean?"
Suzanna shifted her hand down, lacing their fingers together. "Someone has to stop you from indulging your stupidity."
And Suzanna did not look at Lorena, but she could feel the rays of her daybreak smile, and her hand squeezing Suzanna's own hand back.