she's exhausted. she's not sure when they managed to fall asleep last night, but she's positive it was sometime well after 3 in the morning. and also, today had been a day of extremes. 

waking up in bo's arms for the first time in, well, almost thirteen years, was a lot. the thereafter had been awkward, but warm. good. right. and then it had sucked. because she kind of sucked. 

should she have waited a respectable and respectful amount of time before seeing bo again? probably. is it right to have started whatever this is last night, before she'd legitimately cut the final tie with lance? probably not.

but the relationship had ended as soon as bo told her the truth about the masquerade. 

six hours later and she's struggling to get dressed. with her door locked and gretchen eyeing her crossly from the bed (it's her nap time), will digs through half of her closet. four long-sleeve flannels, two sweaters, and several pairs of pants later, she finally gives up on looking nice.

she shucks on her least stained pair of jeans, tosses a yellow cami on, and after a moment's hesitation, shrugs into a green and muted yellow flannel. dangly feather earrings go in her ears and she touches up her nude makeup a teeny bit. this is all done in haste, but care comes in another form: the flowers.

she tucks them behind her ear, the dried and preserved petals of coriander and a fresh cut stem of coreopsis. it's a bit big, but it finally helps her hair stay tucked behind her ear. she turns her chin a couple of times in the mirror and then checks her watch, swearing under her breath because she's going to be late. 

when she pulls up, it's not on horseback. she's still trying to get better at driving and grace has all but given her the car at this point. she spots bo standing in front of their old haunt, flowers clutched in his hands, looking much more put-together than he had been last night. 

or this morning.

she roughs up the curb a little bit (oops) but parks all the same and hops out, lips pursed with amusement as she nears.

"hi," she says and looks down at the bundle he's holding. a hand comes up to her mouth, green eyes crinkling with laughter.

"oh, bo," she says. she rubs the orange petals of the nasturtium and giggles because this is too much. "i don't think you mean to give these to me." but she takes them anyway and keeps the thought of this is a bouquet for lance to herself.

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he was smiling as she pulled up, waving to greet her. then, he took half a step before realizing there was no saving her. over the curb she went. they were really just giving driving licenses away.[break][break]

when she got out, he acted like he hadn’t seen anything, still beaming.[break][break]

”hey!”[break][break]

he’d maybe have felt a little ridiculous standing there holding flowers for anyone else, honestly. it felt a little old-fashioned, but willow was different. she really liked flowers. she was always sticking them in her hair and hanging them places.[break][break]

so, imagine his confusion.[break][break]

”what do you mean? of course they’re for you.”[break][break]

as he held them out, the paper rustled, and the turn of the bouquet revealed a sparse placing of speedwell, giving a nice little pop of indigo.[break][break]

”you look great.”

it's not that disheartening, really. as much as she wishes he would have seen through her, it's kind of sweet how this all goes over his head. and he certainly doesn't mean any harm by it. all that being said, though, the tufted stalk of speedwell that rolls out from behind some of the bouquet's paper makes her smile strained. 

ouch. 

"thank you," she says.

that nervous tingle comes back. she's happy for the flowers because at least she can hold them close and have something to do with her suddenly clammy hands. the neon sign above them is nostalgic, but the faces in the glass door are not the same. she glances down, away from their reflections, as she opens up the door and waits for him to join her. 

"you look nice too." less rumpled, understandably, than this morning. teasingly, she asks, "how's the hangover?"

boruta maher

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”of course. i know how much you like flowers.”[break][break]

while she avoided the reflection in the glass of the door, he couldn’t help but stare at it on their way in, and his heart glowed. they still looked good together.[break][break]

”thanks.” he was feeling himself, even despite the quietly lingering aroma of the bad decision that had been that cologne.[break][break]

”ah, it’s fine. i feel great, actually.” a blatant lie. ”ready for some pizza.” always true.[break][break]

the inside of the restaurant was a time capsule. unchanged in the way that old pizza places with real heart remained, modern concepts like technology and health codes be damned. photos from around the town were strung along the tacky papered walls, dated and signed, many by people they had grown up around.[break][break]

a woman who had worked there for longer than they’d been alive looked up from where she was talking at a table, arm stretched casually across the back of a ragged old red booth.[break][break]

”shut the front door!” louise walked over, grabbing a couple menus on her way. her mouth was agape with disbelief. ”willow atkins? oh girl, how are you doin’?”[break][break]

she got close, placing a hand on willow’s shoulder. ”did that boy with you get taller?”[break][break]

bo smiled.

she doesn't believe it for a minute, not after seeing how much he'd had last night. her bank account is still cringing over her covering his bar tab. she's already decided she's not going to think of such things and just enjoy the moment. it was worth it, anyway, because it meant they got to have last night. 

and this morning, and now. 

his observation skills are unparalleled. she looks down at the flowers in hand and is sad, for a brief moment, thinking one day he'll get it but that kind of makes her sad too. how much time has he had? how much time has she given him? to see her. to know her. 

she smiles prettily, pulled from her thoughts when louise walks over. the hand on her shoulder is nice and willow leans in for a half-hug, nodding to a woman who'd known her for years until she suddenly stopped knowing her at all. 

how long has it been?

"he is. feels like he gets taller every day. looks more like his dad every day too," she says, casting a sidelong glance to bo. 

willow asks after louise's own kids and they slip back into old times just like that. the woman chatters over her shoulder as she takes them to their table - literally their table, the one with the duct tape on the red booths, which willow had always liked because it meant they'd just been loved so much more. 

she slides in and louise gives her a wink, promising she'll be back soon so she can give them some time to look at the menus. willow sets the bouquet aside and puts her arms up on the table, leaning in a little. 

"so...today was nice."

boruta maher

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there were many things he paid attention to. details and patterns such as the changing of flowers in her hair, if he noticed, he chalked up to preference on the day to day.[break][break]

today, he had decided to wear black instead of green, just like she had decided to wear whatever herb that was. maybe that was how she smelled good. good on her. it was better than his cologne.[break][break]

but had he known how much it meant to her, he would have kicked himself. unfortunately for the both of them, he didn’t, and he probably wouldn’t unless and until someone told him directly.[break][break]

bo’s brow furrowed a moment at willow’s response, initially figuring louise had been talking about him. he supposed he did resemble his father quite a bit, but he was not in fact getting any taller, never mind that joke about the chiropractor.[break][break]

”thanks louise.” ”yeah, yeah.”[break][break]

they sat, and he couldn’t stop smiling. even when he tried to tone it down, it radiated through his eyes. the sunshine was back.[break][break]

”it was.” he agreed, leaning in as much as she did. his voice got lower, as if confessing something. "and, y'know, not gonna lie, i kinda have just a little suspicion i might still be asleep in your shed dreaming."[break][break]

a pause, before he finally looked away, figuring he was staring too much.[break][break]

”this place hasn’t changed at all. look.” his finger pointed to a person in a photo clipped out of an old newspaper article. ”you remember that guy?”

"well, if you were still sleeping, that means last night still would have happened," she points out with a smile. of course, no one can ever really recall that moment where they finally fall asleep. but the minutes leading up to it, she remembers. bo's snores. bo's arms wrapping around her, pulling her subconsciously closer as he slept. and her, drifting off, listening to him, feeling him, body and soul, beside her. 

all she wants to do is look at him because now she finally can. now she doesn't have to look away because she's afraid of what he might see - the truth. 

her head turns, following his gaze, and she rolls her eyes. "i'm pretty sure we're in the picture, aren't we?" in the background, the two of them egging on mr. worther while he shoved his eighth pizza down his gullet in an attempt to get a region-wide record.

it hadn't really put the slice on the map, but they'd found other places to eat out for a few weeks after because of all the hubbub it brought. 

she looks back at him, at his hands. death, a letter for every knuckle.

"we've changed though," she says, green eyes darting back up before he can see her staring. tentatively, she leans up on her elbows and gives him a quick kiss on his cheek. 

warmth flushes through her because louise walks right back up at that moment, stifling a laugh. she drops off a couple of malted shakes in front of them and chuckles, saying of course i gotta treat you and asking them what else they want. 

red-faced, willow gestures for bo to order for them.

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”true.” but at least this way, she’d seemingly woken up with no regrets. maybe it was selfish that he didn’t ask, but he couldn’t bring himself to, because he was scared of the answer. he was scared it might prompt her to come to her senses, even.[break][break]

he beamed at her before looking closer at the photo. ”yeah i think you’re right.” and when he saw it, he couldn’t stop staring. ”wow. we were babies, huh?”

he was transported back in time. eight pizzas. ”i could do that.”[break][break]

the kiss on his cheek drew him back to the present. the look on his face was almost goofy with pleasant surprise, and then louise set down the shakes and it was almost too much good in one moment.[break][break]

his grateful gaze turned upward. ”you’re a saint.”[break][break]

and then, it was time to order for real.[break][break]

”okay, louise. you remembered her name, and where we used to sit—“ ”i know who you are, captain boruta maher.”[break][break]

it caused him to skip a beat, self-conscious, before reminding himself that louise had known him since he was a child. surely, she remembered him from then, when he’d still been a good young human who just really liked pizza.[break][break]

he gambled with a smile, and kept on playing. ”yeah, but do you still know the order?”[break][break]

with a sigh, she shifted her weight and squinted her eyes.”okay, let’s see. salami, bacon, pinap, jalapeño, feta, mozzarella. red sauce.”[break][break]

bo looked impressed. not because he actually remembered, but because it sounded good to him. he looked at willow, wondering if it was indeed correct.[break][break]

louise tapped her pen to her temple. perhaps that was its only purpose. ”steel trap, baby.”

her face scrunches up. "yeah, i know you can. and you tried to that day too." his exact expression escapes her, but she's pretty sure something resembling envy is on his face in that picture. she'd had to talk him down from it for a while afterward; even seeing mr. worther get sick immediately after hadn't deterred him. 

boys were dumb. 

she doesn't look at louise as she attempts to awe captain boruta maher. she's too awed by him herself. really, she can't remember the last time he looked so happy. and it makes her tingle from the tips of her toes to the top of her head, thinking maybe it's because of her. 

"salami and bacon on - " 

"half, yep. don't you worry, all. they've already started on it." she gives another wink and turns back around, leaving them alone again. probably until the food comes back out. 

will takes a sip of her shake and looks at him, suddenly wistful. "that day, when you asked me to come here. i wanted to. i really wanted to.

"i just want you to know that." she glances at the flowers, the mocking purple and blue. 

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”i gotta figure out if they’re still doing that…” that would be a trophy he’d be proud to showcase on top of his refrigerator.[break][break]

when louise went off to put the order in, bo’s attention returned to willow. she brought up memories of that day at his home, where he’d told her a fraction his secrets and they’d shared tears, and his grin was dimmed to a smile just barely held up at the corners.[break][break]

on one hand, it felt good to hear. on the other, that day with all its shame was something sickening to think about. he just wanted to move forward.[break][break]

”well... thanks for telling me.” his eyes followed hers to the flowers. ”it was the wrong time. i probably shouldn’t have asked.”[break][break]

he looked at her again, smile fixing itself further. ”but we’re here now. it makes me really happy.”

all of it had always felt like the wrong time, but had it been? really? it had always been her, pushing him away and then tugging him closer when he drifted too far. penelope's words still itch at the back of her head; a pest that never leaves, no matter how much she bats it away. 

"it gave me hope," she says with a shrug, smiling apologetically. their eyes meet again and she pushes the flowers out of her mind for now. because he echoes the sentiment bubbling in her now. 

we're here now. we're happy.

"it makes me happy too. so let's not ruin this nice night with you getting sick after trying to eat nine pizzas, okay?"

she reaches out, brushes her fingertips along the top of his hand. "will you stay again tonight? not in the shed, of course, now that roman knows."

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hope was something he’d been hungry for. to finally have a taste of it was hardly satisfying, but it gave him relief from a pain that he’d felt for too long. it was not peace of mind, but it was the start of peace in the place of his heart which had corroded in her absence.[break][break]

his face brightened more again, happy lines forming under his puffy hungover eyes. ”i’m glad.” he’d been a broken record with all his apologies, so he refrained, but it was good to hear he’d given her more than just trouble that day.[break][break]

about the gobbling down of nine pizzas, he laughed. ”i was a boy then, will. i’m a man now. you underestimate me, but that’s fine.”[break][break]

her request for him to stay again made him grin. ”i’ll stay wherever you want me to.” shed. floor. tent in the back yard. perhaps even that would be best for guarding the house from rocket intruders.[break][break]

to be there for her was all he’d ever meant, honestly, even if he’d gone off and done things differently and everything had gone horribly wrong.

it gave her hope that day, but it also turned everything upside down. she'd spent the night curled in lance's arms, watching some movie she can't remember because she hadn't been paying attention. she'd been thinking about being anywhere else - not just with bo, but with her plants, her guitar, her son. thinking of her mother in the next room over, mind unraveling because she couldn't bear the loss of the man she'd loved with her whole heart and more. 

and thinking to herself, maybe it's wrong to love someone so much. 

is that why she'd stayed with him for so long? because it was easy? 

"i could never underestimate you," she says with a laugh, turning to brighter, happier things. "i've no doubt you could eat them, but i want to kiss you again tonight and if i know you, you'll be passed out from a food coma by nine after eating that."

those fingers on his hand draw back as the steaming pie arrives on a tray between the two of them. the nostalgic smell, look, feel of it all makes her eyes glassy, but she blinks them away with a grateful grin to louise. 

"mm, smells perfect." she nudges a slice of the veggie side onto her plate. cheese dips, spooling onto the plate before she drops the slice, fingers warm. she leaves it be for now to cool down. 

"can i ask you something?"

boruta maher

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