once upon a time, this had been his ride-or-die. his person. soulmate. the girl that had been there to nurse his wounds, to talk sense into him, or have his back when he did stupid things that teenagers sometimes did.

when she got up, and shoved him into the back of the chair, she was suddenly inescapable. the room disappeared behind her, fierce energy close enough to burn. closer than it had been in such a long time, under different circumstances.

those green eyes were so angry.

for a moment, he was speechless, unblinking, heart pounding. his hands stayed where they’d fallen away to, so that he was effectively pinned by the 5’2’’ force that she was.

he shook his head, ”i’m not going anywhere.”

willow atkins

☉

she's not her father, though, and that tempest anger drains as quickly as it had come. her chest still heaves, throat raw as she bites her lip, as she tries to hold onto it. her fingers flex into his shoulders, but still it slips from her grasp and she's left with a red flush on her cheeks and the thump-thump-thumping in her ears.

like the last leaf come winter, she struggles once more against the wind and gives in. her head hangs and she presses her lips to bo's hair; her own slips from her shoulders - like curtains, shutting them away from the rest of the world.

her arms slacken and she stays there, tense, every nerve ending acutely aware of their closeness.

"i'm not either," she says.

boruta maher

☉

the pressure holding him there slackened, but he stayed still, watching her anger fade. he had figured he deserved the rage, but then her winter rolled in. she cooled off, and the fire died just as he was telling himself the burn might actually be the cathartic. bring it on. please.

she leaned closer, and the kiss planted felt like a blessing. maybe not forgiveness, but assurance that all was not lost. they were family, and the ties needed to protect them would not be cut over his past mistakes.

this moment was a relief.

it was also too much, finally breaking the dam behind his eyes despite all efforts to hold it back. he sniffed, his head remaining bowed as a tear rolled down his cheek.

”thank you.”

willow atkins

☉

willow forgets herself, but she remembers herself too. her eyes squeeze shut as she breathes him in, as she wills him to accept the impossible words she can't say. (things she has said, with dried petals and wrapped stems, knowing he doesn't and wishing he'd know how to decipher them.)

when he sniffles, she sinks. leaves the crown of his head and folds down to her knees. elbows prop on his legs and her hands come down to cup his cheek, to wipe his tears.

"you mean too much to me, bo." her thumb stops running circles and she clumsily adds, "and i can't say it doesn't matter what happened in the past, but i'm here to share your burdens because damn if you haven't spent every fiber of your being doing everything for us since you came back."

she sniffles now too and looks away, using her shoulder to rub at her nose and hide her face.

boruta maher

☉

it felt like stepping off the edge of a cliff only to land with both feet on the ground right below. an unexpected second chance. there was immense relief in letting go, in giving up his secret—what CIAN MAHER would soon do, on a much greater scale.

bo was a mess, but there was an old comfort here. she had seen him in every state before, if only a very long time ago. once, maybe twice. he wanted to melt into this, but he pulled back gently from her circling thumb.

as much as he wanted to be close to her, he couldn’t forgive himself enough to accept such a soft touch. not after what he’d just confessed. not with the unspoken details of it bleeding into his mind.

she still had no idea. none of them ever would. that was pandora’s box.

sniffing one more time, he blinked another couple of tears out of his eyes and dried them with a thumb. ”sorry,” he excused himself, swallowing it down. the red slowly began to leave his face.

”it’ll never be your burden. that’s a promise.” he would kill anyone that ever dared to try anything. ”and don’t worry about me. i’ll be fine.”

willow atkins

☉

he draws away because she's pushed too far. he draws away because he doesn't believe her and because the distance she's put between them is too great. in an effort to protect herself, she'd dug this cavern between the two of them and now, stuck on the other side, she can only cower under the voice that says isn't this what you wanted? 

so she pulls back too, with a quiet acceptance, and clambers back up onto the couch. she tucks her legs under her and tersely holds her hands in her lap. green eyes are still shining with unshed tears, but now there's a miserable grimace on her face.

"it already is, bo," she says softly. because now she bears the weight of his secret. now she is armed with the knowledge that their son might one day find out. and what then?

"i need time, i think. to process all of this. gods, i don't know what i'm going to tell roman. he loves his weekends here." she bites her lip. "and i don't want him to lose that. i don't want you to lose that."

boruta maher

☉

she pulled away, and for a moment, he was kicking himself. feeling a pang of what if, of wishful thoughts that felt selfish, so he stifled them just as quickly as they came. this was just how it had to be.

when the topic inevitably rolled back around to roman, he wasn’t entirely sure what to think of himself. had his denial put roman at risk? probably. yet again, he’d done the wrong thing.

”you’re right, though.”

with red eyes, he looked up at her again, painfully noting the sheen of tears in her own.

”i never meant to put him in any danger. i don’t ever want to do that.”

briefly, he thought of hei’s visit to his house, the way he’d waltzed into his kitchen and poured himself a a scotch like he owned the place. and, like a spineless asshole, he’d complied to sit there and drink with ‘an old friend’ despite the harassment. for what? old time’s sake and an arm twisted behind his back.

what if roman had been there? indeed, perhaps the real danger lied in the revelation of his past to his son. he’d be way too easy to recruit.

”we’ll figure something out.”

willow atkins

☉

she wishes she weren't right. and she wishes she knew what to say, but her throat's gone dry and the salt on her cheeks is making them itchy. her hands stay; her nose twitches. all those bottled feelings stay bottled because now isn't the place, especially after he couldn't return her closeness with some of his own.

"i know you didn't. i just regret not knowing, you know? but i know you couldn't have told me - how do you tell someone that?" she sags a bit.

surely, she thinks, rocket has more on its plate than really doing anything to scare bo. her reasoning doesn't make her feel completely better, but the logic is sound enough. with a meteor threatening to destroy them all, bo can't be that high up on the totem pole.

"i have the shed," she offers and then looks sheepish. "i mean, if you want to stay for a weekend. and not the stable shed. mine. the one you slept on that first night, after the gloom incident." her smile is somewhat forced, but at least it shines through.

she leans forward, rests a hand on his knee, and gives it a squeeze. like he said: "we'll figure it out."

boruta maher

☉

it was lonely, feeling like he had to do what was best for everyone else, when what often felt best was to simply keep his distance. he figured by not trying to get too close anymore, there was less of an opportunity to fuck up.

willow possessed a level of understanding he couldn’t fathom himself. he hadn’t been raised with such forgiveness. he’d been prepared for the verbal lashing, only to realize the woman who was sitting in front of him. she hadn’t changed. she was stronger than he was. she always had been.

he shook his head, not willing to admit his own struggles, or to cut himself any slack. his words dwindled, head clouded with regret.
the huffed trace of a laugh was just as forced as her smile.

after a moment, he looked up at her, eyes still red. ”i’ll stay in the stable shed if it means i get to see him.”

willow atkins

☉

"i'd have to ask lou if he's okay with a roommate, but he's a very moody horse," she says with a glimmer of her old self. she wants absolutely nothing more than to throw her arms around him, to break down and admit that she's scared - that she's still fucking terrified - but the wall between them is thick. and it feels as though that gap is getting wider between them every day. 

regret is a heavy, bitter taste in the back of her throat, wrapped in mirror coated anxieties and irrationalities. hard to decipher, harder still to swallow. 

"we can tell him your water heater sprung a leak or something. gotta replace your floors. can't make it too interesting or he'll want to come see it."

she sucks in a breath.

boruta maher

☉

even in that moment, as emotions rocked him to his core, she could somehow summon a ray of sunshine. that light that had gone from his eyes, there to see in her presence, clear as day. the warmth washed over him, when all he figured he deserved was a cold winter wind and endless gray.

they would both feel that cold soon enough, as the world changed around their own unwavering complexities.

”good thinking,” he chuckled.

there was a moment where he was quiet, and his smile changed. a sincere line across pressed lips, speaking of all his experience when he said, ”y’know, i’ve never had a better friend than you.”

because no one else would keep him around after everything, surely. no one else would just sit there and take this with a smile and act like it was something to work through, like it wasn’t absolutely damning, like she couldn’t see the things behind his eyes that were dragging him to hell where he belonged.

”thanks for not running out and never talking to me again. that’s kinda what i figured was gonna to happen, but i just couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.”

willow atkins

☉

he surprises her and her cheeks warm and she doesn't know what to say because she's sure she'll stutter out something she'll regret. her hand goes to the hair tucked behind her ear and the dirty blonde locks fall over her shoulder - a nervous motion habit she doesn't realize she's doing. 

somewhere, elsewhere, her mind's eye is sweeping over the bloodshed and the bruises and all of the terrible things that bo has done. it is a shuddering, shaking thing, but it is so distant. compartmentalized and tucked neatly under the wrong. 

it makes forgiveness plausible. possible. 

"you think i would do that? i told you i'm not going to lose you again." she swallows. "i don't think i could handle that." her gaze drops. she picks at a fray in her jeans. 

"i know it hasn't been easy. none of this has been easy, but i'm so happy you're here. that you're in my - our - lives. so i'll take it, baggage and all, okay?"

boruta maher

☉

it was all the same stuff he couldn’t bring himself to accept verbally. instead, he left a quiet moment hanging between them once again.

“you deserve the world,” he eventually said.

there was more silence as he processed what had just happened. what he’d revealed, and how it might change things, and how in some ways, it hadn’t changed things as much as he thought it would.

with such a weight off his shoulders, he felt renewed in a way. he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

”i should’ve probably asked if you had anything going on today before dumping that on you. that’s my bad.” he paused, before suggesting, ”but if you’re free, i might order some pizza?”

when in doubt, food.

willow atkins

☉